Monthly Archives: October 2023

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Full Power of Tea Time and Toddlers

“Time to watch the sunbird and sip on a cup of hot tea.”

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

October 22, 2023 

I made the grave mistake of saying, “Turn the vacuum to full power please.” I immediately recognised the error of my ways. My rambunctious three-year-old’s eyes widened, sparkled, and then started to look around for something he could use to enter the roleplay.

“Full power!” “Let’s go, go, go!” “Ready?” “Full power!” “C’mon guys, it’s time to fly.” “Time to fix!” “Leeeeet’s do this!” And every other line he knows from kids’ shows, songs, and stories. It’s all about adventure, construction, transport, rescues and emergency situations these days.

A Not So Quiet Cup of Tea Among Superheroes

My quiet cup of tea that morning was to the sound of the weed eater outside backed up by the sound of the vacuum cleaner on the inside. The weed eater droned and sputtered along in a pleasant sort of way that promised shorter grass and a neater garden. The vacuum cleaner buzzed as little fingers flicked switches, vacuumed up toys for fun, and continuously turned the power up and down, up and down, up and down.

I’m always grateful that a cup of hot rooibos with lemon has such a calming effect on my senses. It’s a lifeline to have a sensory overload solution handy for these kinds of days. I know I’ll miss these loud, hands-on hours with my boys. One day, they’ll be stoic teenagers staring at their feet instead of willingly getting on with household cleaning tasks.

Will we still be able to enjoy our lovely weekend mornings on the porch? The sun comes up over the ridge, just enough to warm the seats and dry off the dew on the balustrade. Then it rises high up over the roof in the heat of the day so that you can sit in the shade and look for birds or buck in the forest, gorge and macadamia groves beyond.

Love the Quiet Moments With the Not-So-Quiet Ones

The vacuum cleaner game didn’t last too long and the weed eater faded off into the far side of the property. The mommy Amethyst sunbird that’s built her nest on the wire fish finally braved coming to feed the hatchlings again. I’ve lost count of how many broods she’s raised on our porch now. It’s nice to have another mommy close by who’s also got responsibilities.

The boys moved the roleplaying to the sandpit, and started emptying the rain tank again. But now that the lounge is relatively clean after a vacuum, there’s more time to watch the sunbird … and sip on another cup of hot tea.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Nice Neighbourhood for Nature’s Best

“Hopefully, I’ll still be running when my boys are big enough to join me in our beautiful part of the world here in Oribi Gorge.”

PHOTO BY PIXABAY 

October 11, 2023

I finally got back to managing a 10-kilometre jog the other day. My last one was about four years ago. That’s two babies ago, depending on how you look at it.

It’s amazing being able to run in my home neighbourhood with almost nothing but farmland, birds, and wildlife.
The occasional tractor and friendly farm worker pops up, too. But mostly, it’s just me and the sky, dotted with cane fire ash and gliding vultures.

The clouds sometimes blow way over my head faster than I’m jogging, which isn’t very fast. I even saw flying guineafowls this time after a taxi scared them out of the grass. Like the hadeda, they like to scratch around by the water catchments on the side of the road. I love their distinctive sounds and comical waddling.

Lots To See in This Wild Kind of Neighborhood

On a previous run, I’d seen about six hadeda ibises fly down from a pole and chase away a water mongoose. It ran off into the cane before I could get closer. They’re really huge, at least a metre long.

My quiet runs on the tar are quite different to the crunchy farm roads I usually use. You can actually feel the vehicles coming before you see them. There are vibrations, then a kind of whining sound, and then a whoosh as it zooms past.

The UGU bus is the scariest vehicle to have coming up behind you. It’s very loud. Though, the huge cane trucks can be, too. I always hope for the best as I try to jump to the side, praying that me stepping into the long grass isn’t going to be me stepping onto a puff adder. You never know, even in winter.

Jogging Alone? That’s Perfect for Now

My baby son is not at all interested in spending time with me out there in his pram. I’ve tried a few times. All I got as a thank you for the adventure was a screaming child.

At least running alone means not having to push the big pram up the steep parts. Maybe, when he’s big, he will run with me and try to catch the water mongoose and laugh at the doves giving the jackal buzzard the beady eye.

I’ll show him the monkeys stealing cane and the pairs of stone chats guarding their perches every few metres. Hopefully, I’ll still be running when my boys are big enough to join me in our beautiful part of the world here in Oribi Gorge.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Trying To See the Light During Loadshedding

“Just another day in paradise.”

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

October 7, 2023 

It was just one of those days today. Work ran late, spanning through three loadshedding sessions. I crawled into bed at about 11.15pm after showering in the dark. My baby woke up for the third time, his snotty nose making the feeding difficult for him. I could see his grazed eye and face by the moonlight, where he had launched himself onto the concrete earlier. Learning to walk is hazardous.

Down the passage, one brother was snoring like an elephant and the other was coughing again. It was so loud it just about drowned out the Scops owls and nightjars that have been calling so loudly since spring came around. The annoying roof rats are even louder at the moment.

Sleep Isn’t Easy When the Kids Are Sick

I slept on and off, but the baby was restless and the brothers were too. Then, at 1am, the baby’s cough got a bit worse. He vomited all over himself and my feather duvet.

I was so tired at this point that I just stripped him, threw the duvet on the floor, and found a blanket to crawl under with him. I would have chucked everything into the washing machine, but what good would that have done without power for the next two hours.

Only, it wasn’t two hours, or the regular four hours we’ve been having; it never came on. We woke up still in the dark three hours later with the whole area without power. No morning rooibos. No explanation.

There’s Power and Comfort in Community Life

A few residents managed to log a call before 7am, which was when the next four hours of load shedding was due to start. That puke duvet was still on the floor with the clothes and the normal pile of washing.

The fridges were off. The cellphones were almost flat. And the work day had started with laptops and Wi-Fi routers that couldn’t charge.

The baby and his brothers are still snotty. And the baking we did for school (between load shedding stints) was left behind in the confusion of the morning. That meant a turnaround and a little person very late for school.

But we did get him to school.

The dogs and kids are fed.

The sun is out.

And a certain van for electricity repairs has been spotted in the area.

There are also a few baked goods left to reward us for enduring all our challenges this week. We’ll make it to the weekend.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Mammal Watching Dreams That Could Come True

“When we came home to South Africa, it was like a warm hug, filled with hadeda and trumpeter hornbill cries, screeching francolins and twittering prinias.”

Mammal watching fun.October 3, 2023

Did you know that mammal watching is now a thing in the world? Not the safari kind we’re so privileged to have as part of growing up in South Africa, but the cousin of bird watching with lists and databases and counts and tours.

I love birds, but I’m not technically a twitcher that’s accumulating species on my life list. I haven’t seen even 1,000 of the 11,000 bird species that we have on the globe. Maybe one day.

But, this mammal watching thing is another exciting discovery for me. There are around 6,000 mammal species on earth. Lots of them are hundreds of different rodents and bats, but many of the big ones are more well-known.

South African Birds and Game Reserves Are Truly Something  Special

I’ve always loved our trips to game reserves. It’s the one thing I sorely missed when we lived in South Korea for a few years.

Aside from the magpies that supposedly eat children’s teeth (apparently, the Tooth Mouse doesn’t know where Korea is), there wasn’t much going on in the way of wildlife in South Korea. Very few birds. One dead snake. A lot fewer insects than I’m used to seeing at home, too. It felt a little sterile at times, and not in a good way.

When we came home to South Africa, it was like a warm hug, filled with hadeda and trumpeter hornbill cries, screeching francolins, twittering prinias, and the boo-boo-boop of the beautiful bou bous that like to wake up my babies in the late afternoon.

I missed our butterflies and our funny-looking grasshoppers. I missed the duikers that graze on the pavements in the cities, and the knobly warthogs that zip around with their tails up through the farms. There’s so much life here.

All We Need To Do Is Start Looking Around

Investigating the mammal watching thing has also made it even more exciting to realise how many animals are right here. South Africa has a ubiquitous striped weasel. It’s everywhere but nobody sees them much because they’re shy. Just imagine what we could find in our slice of the gorge here with some heat sensors and very large camera zooms!

Aside from more large and venomous creatures than we might care to admit, there may just be hundreds of mammals all around us, hiding in plain sight. I’ll try to open my eyes a little more while I’m running or out with the dogs at the waterfall. I’ll listen for the rustling and look up when the puff backs chirp their alarm calls. That’s how they told us about a boomslang the other day.

I could see 6 000 species of mammals and 11 000 species of birds in my lifetime. How amazing! All I need is free time, a boatload of money for travel and equipment, and a bit of luck. But maybe I’ll start with a subscription to National Geographic or something. And some more walks down into the gorge forests below my house.

Published here.