Tag Archives: family

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Families Who Fish Together

There’s never a dull moment raising a family in Oribi Gorge.

PHOTO BY PIXABAYMay 1, 2025

There’s been a new thing starting. The tiny boys are growing up into little boys and starting to explore a few aspects of farm life.
Of course, I had some preconceived ideas about it because, when I was a little girl, my daddy took care of a lot of the ‘dirty’ side.

I didn’t like scales and blood on my hands. As an adult, I forgot that part. It felt surprising that this particular pastime involved such a lot of chicken hearts, sticky whiskery practical jokes from my sons, and wading to unhook lines from the reeds. The smell of the clothes afterwards is also quite a sensory challenge.

Still, it’s all part of the smiles that fishing brings to our little sons (and their parents). What I did correctly remember about fishing was the time outside in the sunshine, the quiet, and the birds. There’s something beautiful about glassy dams reflecting the clouds.

The Dam With the Fish Eagles

Our neighbours have a spectacular setting just like this, complete with a pair of fish eagles, a shady spot to sit, and wide open views. I’m aware that this is a bit more luxurious than tramping through muddy, cutting reeds and keeping a beady eye out for slithery things. I can also take the baby to play safely by the water’s edge and even jump into the shallow places if he feels brave enough. It might just be one of my favourite spots in the world, actually. Many happy family memories already and more to come. I think families need those special spots.

I know that this particular fishing spot will be forever seared into my sons’ memories. When they’re all grown up and taking the hooks out for their daughters who don’t want to get their hands bloody, they’ll remember these lazy weekend afternoons. They’ll remember their parents buying rolls and hotdogs and spreading out a picnic blanket, swimming, fish eagle cries, and the cool breeze as we wait for the barbel to bite. We even caught a tiny tilapia, which we threw back, as we do with all the others.

It’s a lesson in patience for energetic little boys, too, which is always good. May they always remember and smile. We’ll have to get one of those ‘Gon’ Fishing’ signs soon.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Squeaking Takkie in the Winelands While Herding Cats

We celebrated with our family and watched our boys experience their very first wedding.

 The beautiful winelands in the Cape.

March 14, 2025

Oribi Mom’s crew had a little adventure.

First, it must be said that this was the very first new year that Oribi Mom and Dad can remember staying up for in, well, we think, decades. We’re not teenagers trying to find shelter on some beach thanks to the South Coast’s dependable New Year’s Eve rain anymore. This year, we shouted ‘Happy New Year’ over loud music under flashing lights and even kissed (very briefly!). It was well past our parental bedtime, and three tiny boys were already asleep in the room we were all sharing. Still, we were quite proud of our efforts.

It was a special wedding, you see, over New Year’s Eve on a wine estate – and over 1500 kilometres away from our little farmhouse. We worked all year to get to that wedding. We very nearly cancelled, too.

We Almost Didn’t Make the Wedding

The first half of December was a bit of a blur. The kids promptly got sick in the last week of school and passed it along to their tired parents. Then, Oribi Gorge lost power in that huge storm that blew over poles and trees. We didn’t have power for eight days.

We went to stay with the grandparents a little earlier than planned, packing for the wedding just in case, and then the kids got sick again. Very sick. Like buying a portable nebuliser in case anyone couldn’t breathe properly on the road.

A rat chewed our car’s air conditioning wire to pieces. Can you drive through the Karoo in mid-summer without air conditioning? On the morning we decided to leave, a beloved uncle passed away.

What did we do?

We visited our dear aunt with flowers, finished the packing, bathed the boys, and strapped them into their car seats at 7 pm.

We drove 18 hours, non-stop, through the night and arrived in Cape Town at lunchtime the next day.

We celebrated with our family and watched our boys experience their very first wedding. It was like herding cats with 10 niblings walking ahead of their aunty down the aisle together, but it was so beautiful.

We danced. We laughed. We got all dressed up and took a family picture. We saw in 2025.

And then, we made it home again to Oribi Gorge. We’re all better; we have power, and it’s a whole new year!

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: An Ancient Artist’s Palette in an Unlikely Place

There is beauty all around.

 PHOTO BY PIXABAYMarch 4, 2025

There’s a tree I love on the highway between Harrismith and Ladysmith. I have seen it since I was a little girl, travelling home. I lived in Northern Natal for a little while and played sports sometimes in Harrismith. Even after that, we’ve made trips up to Joburg to see family, embark on planes, or visit game reserves.

Every time we come back from the highveld to the lowveld, there’s a spark. I see that big flat mountain in Harrismith and feel a tingle. Then, I see the ‘Racing Car’ mountain, which my children insist on calling ‘Hippo Mountain’, where I look for bald ibises. The little spark of joy grows because I know the descent is coming.

You have to go super slow down Van Reenen’s. Driving at 60km/h feels like trudging through clay after a few hours at 120km/h. The police assure us it’s not meant as a lesson in patience; they want us to arrive alive. Before you get to Smelly-Truck-Brake Pass, though, there’s this beautiful tree. It’s huge compared to everything else in that location, so it stands out. It’s also right next to the road.

Look Closer at the Tree As You Come To This Ancient Place

I have no idea how this tree is still standing. For 30-plus years, I’ve taped it as absolutely ancient. It hasn’t changed. The tree of my childhood memories looks just the same. It’s a gum tree, but let’s skip over the part about it being invasive and water-guzzling. It’s dazzling. It stands straight up, towering above you as you come up the hill. You can see it from quite a long way off, and as you get closer, it touches the sky.

You can’t help but notice the phenomenal composition its stripped bark reveals layer upon layer. It’s like a bored artist has taken their palette and tried to get every colour there is onto one tree trunk – pinks, greens, yellow, blues, greys, oranges, and all the fancy colour names in between that I don’t know. ‘Rainbow’ would not even come close to it.

The ibises, cranes, and ducks get to enjoy it every day. I just catch a glimpse of it when I’m coming home. Is that why it’s so captivating? I hope to ask my grandchildren one day. Will they be coming home to beautiful KZN, too? To me, home is colours on a tree and the promise of the ocean.

What’s it to you?

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom

The “Oribi Mom” Column

Newspaper Column Regularly Featured in the South Coast Herald

Since 2020, this little newspaper column has become a standard feature in the Lind household. It’s an actual newspaper – the kind that rubs off black onto your fingers – publishing our comings and goings here in Oribi Gorge.

Part of the motivation behind it was to give the Lind children something in black and white one day after we get old and don’t remember all the details. The local community here also seems to have enjoyed the offering, which tries to share our story 400 words at a time. A few neighbours and friends have appreciated some of the humour, relatability, family drama, and close encounters with nature. International readers just gasp, wondering why we choose to live in a place where Black Mambas do.

Why Oribi Mom Started

Ambitions to be a journalist in the teen years were short-lived. If you’d asked then whether we’d like to just blog for a local newspaper whenever inspiration hit, it would have seemed inferior to “real” journalism. What a crazy idea.

Fast-forward to about a month before the entire world shut down because of the COVID-19 pandemic, and the need to share our experiences felt overwhelming. At eight months pregnant, South Africa’s hard lockdown had cancelled just about everything. Things got complicated, including the smooth, quick route needed to reach the hospital three hours away.

Instead of calming soundtracks and earphones, we had to remember to pack our eldest child’s birth certificate in the hospital bag — just in case. What if the police stopped us on the highway to ask why we were out of our home when the government had expressly told everyone to stay put. We’d even rehearsed the speech to say in between contractions. “Yes, he’s our son. Yes, we had to bring him with us. No, there’s nobody to look after him at home. No, we couldn’t go to another hospital because the doctor is at the one three hours away (another long story).”

We hadn’t found much online about going through a late-stage pregnancy during a global pandemic. Nobody else crazy enough to try it? So, we wrote one. And we’ve never looked back.

Thanks for reading!

Oribi Mom

Uncategorised

The Linds.co.za Blogspot

Welcome to our blog! All the Lind’s travel blog posts and stories are right here to entertain you and get you excited about life. Are you amazed that we’re still alive out here? There’s more to come.

The Lind’s Travel Adventures Around the World

Start by reading our classic Travelinds travel blog of world adventures. This time largely informed how we’ve chosen to do life together, taking us to some of the most spectacular sights, muddiest jungles, whitest beaches, and intentionally out-of-the-way places (we hate crowds!). Those memories will be with us for a lifetime!

While we’ve taken a little hiatus from the fast and furious travelling, we’re navigating another big adventure – some serious parenting – and there’s never a dull moment. How could there be with three little curious and energetic people we’ve apparently given all of our adventurous genes to? We went back home and sunk our savings into creating a home. Still, while the wandering and flight itinerary takes a break, the soul continues its quest! There are always beautiful spaces and faces to see wherever we happen to touch down.

Now, The Family of Five’s Adventures

We’ve come through global pandemics, wars, and the U.S. election calendar still kicking. Now, there’s also the newer Oribi Mom posts, which cover more recent family stories in the local paper. After the daring international stuff, we came back to see if we could put down some roots. So far, so good! For the last few years, we’ve made the farm home. We’re raising three little people and taking lots of photos. We’re also keeping a sharp lookout for Black Mambas, Narina Trogons, and Trumpet-mouthed Hunter Snails.

The Linds Are Still Adventuring, So Keep Reading…

If you’d like to see where the next adventure goes for the Travelinds, the Farmlinds, or whatever you’re calling us now, you’re in exactly the right place. Keep reading!

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Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Yellowed Collars, Old Photos and Time Passing

“Ordering school photos might not be a thing in a few more years. I think I’ll miss it.”

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

May 16, 2024

How do you get sun-cream stains out of white school shirt collars? Tell me you’re a mother without telling me you’re one.

Apparently, a combo of baking soda, vinegar and fairy dust works. Other suggestions that have come up on searches included toothpaste, lemon juice, sunshine and a paste of Vanish. The collars are still yellow.

Maybe it’s the hard water on the farm here. Maybe it’s my woefully lacking knowledge of the types of material and what each needs to stay sparkling white.

Don’t bleach it, say the eco-conscious and the health nuts. (Also, this fades out the school badge!)

So, on photo day, it’s the least yellow collar that went on, alongside a hope and a prayer that Photoshop includes whitening collars in annual photo shoots. Say cheese, but don’t spill any of the yellow onto the collar, please.

These school photos really are something. It’s one day a year, but from my own school career, it was often the only photo.

I came from the era before digital photos. That time when mommies who could attend sports or other events had to bring a tripod or a steady hand and an extra spool to capture one or two good images of us precious darlings. Sports photos? Hopeless.

I have vivid memories of walking into Clicks to collect that little packet of developed photos. It smelled funny. Mom would flip through the photos and laugh or snort at the blurs, missed shots, and fingers in front of the lens. She’d take the good ones and put them into real-life albums with sticky plastic things you lift up.

When they get old, the photos don’t stay behind them anymore and get all mixed up when you take the photo album off the dusty bookshelf. But the images are still there. Immortal, for a while. That eighties hair on my friends’ moms was something else, I tell you. Perms, beehives, and bright colours stand out, even in faraway group photos.

It jogs the memory, even if you have to flip back a few pages to slip the lost photo into its correct place. In the history of things, photos feel like treasure to me. A silent glimpse into what’s come and gone that speaks far louder than many of the stories people tell.

Ordering school photos might not be a thing in a few more years. I think I’ll miss it.

Oh, and the answer is that green sunlight soap bar, of course. That’s the cure for yellow stains and everything else you want to sparkle.

Publish here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Live Each Day To Its Fullest

SCH Local News | “You have the right to stay in bed even if you don’t exercise it.”

Another bright and beautiful morning in Oribi Gorge. PHOTO BY HEATHER LIND

April 14, 2024 

‘Storms to persist’ the headlines said for Human Rights Day 2024. I looked outside and confirmed that the weatherman was indeed correct about the bleak outlook for today.

The first day of the school holidays was just a normal workday for me as a freelancer. There had been a lot of questions about my rights floating around my brain that week.

The Right To Just Be Left Alone?

A potential prospector has been scuttling around our beloved part of Oribi Gorge. The notice cited lithium, and a few other things, that a big yellow demarcated area on the map is assuming might be under the ground. As if we needed yet another hard thing in our lives after losing a beloved brother recently. Grief must wait apparently for community objections to said prospectors and lots of research about the area that we don’t have time to fit into already full schedules.

Three noisy boys running around and asking for food isn’t a great environment to be reading complicated 158-page documents about mining and laws and stuff is it?

“Pay attention to the details, brain.”

If I missed something about a loophole or water use license, would we lose our home in a few years’ time? What about the animals and birds and plants? What about the endangered oribi I admired in our little field of baby macadamia trees last month? Will those trees bear fruit in five years as they should, or will the dust from an open-cast lithium mine have ended their prospects?

It’s dramatic, I know. But that’s how it feels. Storms persist. They leave for a while, but there’s always another one. That’s life.

The Right To Continue to Live Freely? Maybe

What a privilege seven years in Oribi Gorge has been. I pray there will be 70 more, with children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren too.

We are born and we die, but in between is so much life to live and so much wonder to experience. Right then, on the rainy day during which our country was celebrating human rights, it felt hard to get on board with hope and freedom. Still, the Samangos were calling in the forest just 50 metres away to remind me that I didn’t get to feel sorry for myself in bed that day or any other day that would come after it.

Miners may come. Precious species may go extinct. Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. But today is the day to get up and be human about it and to hope.

It’s our right and our joy to live each day to its fullest.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Rose Bush Is Free of Triumphant Vine

“The vine branches are the same colour and thickness as the rose branches, minus the spiny thorns that go right into tender fingers or arms.”

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

March 2, 2024 

That vine has come up again. The one with big leaves that grow right over my rambling rose. It twists and clings, dropping new roots as it goes. If I leave it any longer, it’s going to get those seed pods again, which is the reason it came up again this year, I’m sure.

Today, when I looked out of the kitchen window for the umpteenth time to admire my little pink roses, I couldn’t even see the bush! The vine looked triumphant. So, I left the housework, the children, the paid work, and the tea and marched outside to collect my boots, slasher and gloves. I’d had enough of that old vine.

Don the Gloves and Go For It

The gloves are an essential feature for me in this thorny, hand-slicing garden of mine. There are all sorts of stinging things, too. One day I felt something tickle my leg and swiped a bit. As I looked down there was just blood. I thought I’d squashed the fly, but it was my own blood that the nasty fly was apparently having for lunch [insert horrified emoji here]. The scar stuck around for two weeks.

The boots look ridiculous, but they’re for the night adders. Rather, I like to think of them for the night adders and not think about all the other, much worse, slithery things my feet might step on while I’m knee-deep in grass or blackjacks.

Watch Out For the Spikes and Fangs

Careful of what you grab onto. Vine snakes look like branches, and so do female boomslangs. Actually, a lot of snakes look just like branches, or leaves, or the pesky weeds that grow long tendrils over everything and push my poor plants flat down on the ground. I’m constantly pulling those out. They get little white flowers with a purple centre that are actually quite pretty, but don’t let them fool you; they take over in a matter of weeks.

With my trusty boots and gloves on, I dealt with the vine. My rose is free, though it didn’t thank me. The vine branches are the same colour and thickness as the rose branches, minus the spiny thorns that go right into tender fingers or arms. Talk about biting the hand that feeds you. At least I can see the pink blooms again.

Summer is almost over already, and the green beauty will soon disappear for a few months. Next season, hopefully, I’ll be a little more proactive about that vine earlier in the season so that I don’t have to spend an hour in the rain getting eaten by horseflies. Or maybe I’ll just have tea on the porch instead.

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.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Ever-Changing Gardens for Those Who Walk in Them

“It’s time to prune in order to grow.”

Lavender in bloom.

 

September 5, 2023

The thorn tip that attacked my wrist is finally out, and the scratched-up wrists and arms are almost healed already. This garden is thorny, and I’ve left it quite a long time to itself with small babies growing in me, and then being on my hip these last few years.

But this time of year is the final opportunity to get things chopped and pruned and weeded while everything is dry and dying. It’s easier to pull things out. It’s also easier to see into the dense bush and tree in case there are one of the many venomous snakes hiding. We have so many here.

Blood, Sweat, and Some Tears in Our Thorny Garden

So, bleeding arms, blisters, and cut up shins are just par for the course when trying to handle lantana and the many other thorny things I’m trying to get under control.

There’s even an extremely poisonous vine that pops up, with three pronged leaves. Apparently, there are a few species around. The ones with purple flowers are okay. The orange-flowered ones have poisonous fruit and leaves, so even pulling them out is a bit treacherous.

There’s always a bit of sadness, too, at seeing the gaping holes in the garden where the weeds were or where we chop it back. But come summer, that fills in rather quickly. I’m almost through the blackjacks here now. But the moon-shaped burrs are still going crazy. They’re much harder to pull out than blackjacks, too. We’ll get there.

Looking Back, It’s Worth It

If I look back at the garden we arrived to six years ago, or rather the dense, weed-filled bush that surrounded the house, a little bit of pride pops up at how far it’s come. It’s still bushy and rough, but it’s beautiful to me. It’s growing and changing. It’s thinning out here and there and showing some results for all my hours of work.

Like our family that is growing up faster than the weeds, it’s worth the struggles and the blood. And in twenty years or so, we might look back in wonder at all the progress. I hope so.

Published here.

Oribi Mom, Travelinds

Oribi Mom: Back To Paradise and Still Captivated

“If you ever go there, be sure to leave time for a long walk.”

Oribi Mom at Mabibi in iSimangaliso Wetland Park.

August 3, 2023

It’s been three years of this COVID stuff, with two sons arriving amid the chaos. With all that’s happened, we’ve also had to postpone a holiday we’d planned for July 2020.

Instead of COVID lasting a few weeks, it was still around the next year, so we didn’t go in 2021 either. Then, Boy Number Three made an entry in 2022. And now, here we are, with a one-year-old, his two brothers, and finally a three-year-old booking we have been able to actually use.

A Special Place for Our Growing Family

The place is a very special one for us as a family. It’s where we met 22 years ago as starry-eyed teenagers. It’s also where he proposed to me six years after that, when I was finally old enough to get married. So when we go, there’s always some history to it.

But it’s truly a gem of a beach destination on the North Coast. It’s the type that is beautiful just the way it is. It doesn’t need amenities to cover up litter or dirty sand or cloudy water. It has pristine soft white dunes, crystal clear water, and kilometres of space with not a soul in sight. Perfect.

Beautiful Beach Hours Above and Under the Water

The snorkellers in our little group saw rays, crayfish, lionfish, and all sorts of other interesting things in the water. The beachgoers admired the performing whales constantly passing by. And I found five turtle nests, marked by the dried eggs fanning out from the exit point on the dune. Super exciting.

In twenty years, not much has changed there except the popping up of a very exclusive lodge right below the campsite. The camp has also erected three little cabins with canvas walls, giving us the option to have our own kitchen and shower. It’s glamping compared to the outright campsites, but just as immersive in nature.

I like the cabins with small children, but we let the bigger boys camp for two nights just to have the memories. The kids also hopped around from campsite to campsite, visiting their cousins and friends who came with us for laughs, toasted marshmallows, and lots of sand castles. They even found some of the endemic bird species in the area, saw giraffes right on the main road, and watched the sunsets over Lake Sibaya. They heard the bushbabies and elusive Green Malkohas too.

Hopefully, they’ll always remember it as the best beach ever. That’s how we think of it. If you ever go there, be sure to leave time for a long walk. You might just find one if the giant cowries my love used to propose to me all those years ago. Best ringholder ever.

Published here.