Trying to blend in

Sometimes I do not write because I feel as if I have no pictures to go along with the words, and pictures reveal less than words, so they are easier to share.  Real people, who really know me, read this, and it is all they hear from me, and they know me, so my writing voice has to sound like my speaking voice.

Sometimes I do not write because I am too busy.

Sometimes I do not write because I am in a difficult patch, and a bit moody, and it seems wrong to sit down and write cheerily about crafts and such while I really feel as if parenting is far too difficult and all those people with clean, neat houses have their priorities all wrong.  They, too, should spend hours aimlessly browsing or taking pictures with their iPhones.

But tonight I have a few pictures to show, at least:

(The tablecloth was a gift from my mother, with printed South African flowers)

(Jacques' sweater was a gift from his mother, hand knit.)

(Wow, they are big!) A week or two ago we did not have bread in the house, and I have not replenished my pantry completely since we came back, so I had no bread flour.  Martinus was distraught - do we not have ingredients either?!  So I fell back on good old white flour, eggs, milk and butter.  And baking powder, of course. I used a scones recipe, but instead of making individual scones (by the time I started to panic it was 1 pm), I just made a big round scone and cut it into eights.  I know this is how many Americans do it, I have never seen it in this shape growing up.  We pulled out the good old Lyle's Golden Syrup and Marmite, and added butter and cheese.  Lunch!

Back in South Africa, walking though the aisles of the Spar, I felt so happy.  Everything I loved was just there, so easy, no hard thinking about what to do with it once I brought it home.  My sister bought me the syrup, in Namibia.  I found the Marmite at a World Market.  Today I found a site that sells many South African products, and decided to buy some Ouma Rusks, Mrs Balls Chutney, Iwisa Maize Flour (for breakfast pap, and it is not the same as grits, I promise you) and Handy Andy.  As if there isn't enough cleaning liquids in the US.  But I was on all fours under the kitchen table, yesterday, wiping up sticky brownie crumbs, and wishing that I had Handy Andy - just because I know how to use it.  I also bought some sweet chili sauce, Wellington's.  Because it really is not available here, and I eat it on everything.

In other news, we are buying a house!  The same one we saw in October and thought we could not get because we would not be in a position to close before April 2013.  We have signed the final contract, and the date of closing is specified as April 30.  We went back to look at it again, measured the rooms, and we still love it, I think I love it even more.  It may be our "forever house".  It looks big in this picture, but it is not that big - 2200 square feet (205 square meters).  Four bedrooms, two living areas and a breakfast nook next to the kitchen.

This is the view from the back of the house, that fence is part of an enclosed area behind the house.  (The Alpaca pasture?)  How funny, I never noticed the wires and poles when we were there, you get so used to them here in Texas.  It is a good sign, it means that you do not have to bury everything to prevent it from being stolen.

(As I write, it started to rain, and I hear some thunder.  What a rare treat to listen to thunder and rain in the darkness, when everyone has gone to bed but me and my poor husband who has a deadline coming up next week...)

And now I just want to show you what I have been doing with my iPhone, and Hipstamatic, my favorite app so far:

And these ones are spooky, but I like them:

 I like things that appear to be old.  I treasure the hand-me-downs from friends; I love to know that it had once been their mom's or an uncles', even the second hand homeschooling books with names written into them in the front gives me a sense of belonging.  Blending and mixing as much of the old with as much of the new as I can.

Snapshots through a dirty window (Stilbaai to Kammieskroon)

"Cry, the beloved country, ... 
Let him not love the earth too deeply. Let him not laugh too gladly when the water runs through his fingers, nor stand too silent when the setting sun makes red the veld with fire. Let him not be too moved when the birds of his land are singing, nor give too much of his heart to a mountain or a valley. For fear will rob him of all if he gives too much." 

- Alan Paton

When he wrote this, I was the unborn child.  I always wonder: did he mean me too?  (But I have not lost all, and I have gained much. I guess then that I do, or did not love too deeply? Or am I not that child?  You must be exhausted just reading this, but hey, sometimes one wonders.)

It feels so good to know the names of the trees again.  Did you see the quiver trees?

Tomorrow we enter Namibia, and I do not know yet how we will connect to the internet, once there.  I have so much more to say.

And if I am away for a while, "Well, then, "Merry Christmas, y'all!"

so bittersweet

  

For one last time:

build a castle and a moat;

stroll away, be brave and strange;

warm yourself in the sand;

dance with your shadow and your twin;

hunt for treasure;

watch your cousin pick up jellyfish;

run away in disgust;

share the towel, and the last heat of the sun;

stand and stare, take it all in.

Now let's go, it's time.

What we were up to lately

I fell behind, and I thought I would like to catch up, recording every single step, but it would be far more realistic to just jump in where we are.  These are highlights from the last couple of days.

At the moment we are still in Still Bay, a small town about 4 hours east of Cape Town, in the Western Cape.    Last Friday we went to see the eels being fed.  We did not know that we would be allowed to feed them ourselves, and that the children and I would get a chance to stroke them. They are very curious creatures, with an undeserved bad reputation after "The Little Mermaid".  Stroking them was like stroking something between velvet and Jello; they are not slimy at all, and very soft.  I never thought I'd say so, but they were actually sweet - they appeared to like it when we stroked them.  We thought so, anyway.

The pond with the eels was right next to a museum, where we visited an old schoolroom or Farm School.  The lady in the room explained how one teacher would teach children ranging between the ages of first and eight grade.  When she asked Jean if he would have like a school like that, he said no.  I am assuming he wanted to tell her that he is in a school like that, and that he does not see the need to go to a different one.  Jacques and the lady then had a long discussion about education and vehemently agreed about everything.

The afternoon, we drove to an even littler town, an hour away, Gouritzmond.

While it looks cold in the pictures, there was no wind and we were very comfortable on the beach.  The sea was very rough, and tossed them around for a bit before they wanted to get out. (The life guards were on their posts).  We were visiting my aunt and uncle, who were waiting for us on a bench when we got out of the water.  My cousin was waiting with them, her twins are on their way to eight grade next year.  How is it that the children grow bigger but we stay young?

 A hot outside shower after the sea roughed us up - a device my aunt thought up and had custom build last year.  It attaches to a clothes hanger, so you can hang it in a tree.

Then you go inside the "braaikamer" or barbecue room, where great uncle has already made a fire, to warm yourself.
I am completely honest when I say that there has only been two or three days where we have not eaten something from a grill, and every time the fire is started with wood.

 Have you heard about Cape Fruit?  It is not a rumor. A land of milk and honey, please come and visit to see for yourselves!

My aunt and uncle lived in France for ten years, two of their children were born there.  She taught me about good cheese and olives when I was a little girl.  Almost every time I eat an olive, I think of her, and how she told me:  you may not like it today, but one day you will love it.  She was right about that and many other things, too.  What a blessing to get to sit in her kitchen again, and to hug her hello and goodbye once more.

 Saturday - another perfect day on the beach.  Christian is building a dam with his cousin who was born almost exactly a year before him.

All eight of them, grandchildren from one grandmother, trying to build a dam on the beach.  The ocean won, in the end.

And last, but only chronologically: my youngest niece, born in October.  Just look at those eyes, she is so awake and aware!

And that is it, for now.  This week we will go and visit friends in Aston Bay, and then start our long trek north, to Tsumeb.