Tag Archives: family

Oribi Mom: Family Menagerie Might Not Be Done Yet

“Our little farm seems to be becoming a haven for these beautiful creatures.”

It seems like an awfully long time ago that we had chickens and rabbits in the garden. That season was such a sweet time, watching the boys grow up with pecking, cackling hens, collecting eggs, and then cuddling sweet white rabbits whenever they could catch them.
The baby rabbits were really adorable; fluffy and soft and warm.

But the mamba these pets attracted wasn’t adorable. And we didn’t venture to replace the pets after the season had reached a natural end. Recently, though, we were very happy to add Marley, I mean Ranger, to our family. He has slotted right in like he’d always belonged here. He’s brought such laughter and antics to every day spent with his beloved farm boys.

He lets the youngest climb on him and pull his floppy lips, so patient and gentle as he helps us teach them the meaning of ‘gentle’ in such practical ways. He entertains the three year old, playing with toys and running together in the garden. And he’s a great watch dog too, even letting us know when the eagle owls have come to play with the lawn crickets at night.

So, of course, when another person was moving overseas and looking for a home for their two snoops, they came to us, too. And since we’re already taking care of Ranger and he’s taking care of us, it seemed only natural to say yes without hesitation. Hopefully, it’s a great decision. We’ll let our Ranger decide when his two new companions arrive soon.

Do you need a home for your beautiful aging Labrador? Our little farm seems to be becoming a haven for these beautiful creatures. And we wouldn’t have it any other way.

Published here.

Oribi Mom: Teetering Into Winter 2023

“Using terms like “when they were little” feels crazy when they’re five and three. But they’re boys now, not babies.”

We’re back into the stage of head bumps, bleeding gums, and closed baby gates now. Teething and learning to walk is hard, even for the third time running. Granted, the poor child has pushed out five teeth in just two months, and a sixth is just poking its enamel out this week, too. Thank goodness we live in South Africa and have easy access to droewors, hey.

Somehow, babies manage to get themselves into the strangest predicaments before you know what’s happening. For example, he can quite easily get under the bed, but do you think he can reverse to get himself out again? Of course not. He can also get up onto a molly box, which is just high enough to cause Mom to panic about him going head-first off it. Let’s not talk about the stairs that run off the porch. We’re still being quite diligent about keeping that little gate closed but, with two brothers around, it’s only a matter of time.

The new game is to unpack the Tupperware cupboard. That means taking every single item out and spreading them around the floor. There’s also an affinity for the bookshelf. I remember now why we made a kids’ books shelf to distract his two brothers when they were little. And it truly does go by so very quickly.

Using terms like ‘when they were little’ feels crazy when they’re five and three. But they’re boys now, not babies. They don’t unpack the bookshelves or get stuck on tables or try to stick their heads through the security gate bars anymore. Though, the three year old did manage to vomit into the nebuliser this morning, so there’s that.

In a few weeks or months, they’ll be walking. And then they’ll be in their first job interview. Hopefully, we can keep up, and take it all in.

Published here.

Oribi Mom: Should I Change the Name? Bark Once for Yes

“We thought that getting a dog would also deter some of the brazen Vervets that keep stealing all our fruit – oranges, guavas, bananas, blackberries – but I’ve actually watched a whole troop casually raiding the tree at the back while said dog is snoring on the porch.”

It’s been a long five years or so keeping chickens, rabbits, and yes, having three bouncing boys join our family. Now, we’ve finally gone ahead and completed our family with a large, beautiful fluffball called Ranger.

His family emigrated, and was relieved to find ours a perfect fit for their beloved Golden Labrador. Except, I’m suddenly understanding how the screenwriters got all their fantastic material for that movie. Should I change the name of my column to Marley and Me?

Dog Stories, Boy Stories, and Family Memories

It seems that I’ve already acquired a file’s worth of stories surrounding this new addition to our family. For example, did you know that dogs like to chew wooden alphabet blocks?
The ones I had big plans to teach our eldest to read with.

I’m still waiting for that miracle to happen by itself because I’m a little bit too busy to force that on a completely uninterested farm boy preferring his free time in the sun. He’s started Grade R, so playtime is precious for him in the afternoons. There’s plenty of time for reading, right? He’s only five.

That’s a good thing because those wooden alphabet blocks keep appearing in pieces on the porch. The 10-month-old inevitably takes a block out there on his travels, and then the family dog shows the baby how to break it into pieces that he can choke on. Can you see my eye-roll?

Slap “Watch” Onto This Dog and Watch the Fruit Disappear

Marley, I mean Ranger, has also managed to chew a hole in my compost bin. What on earth is a grown-up dog looking for in the stinky lettuce and potato pile? Probably a rat. We get some gigantic ones around these parts.

We thought that getting a dog would deter some of the brazen Vervets that keep stealing all our fruit – oranges, guavas, bananas, blackberries. But I’ve actually watched a whole troop casually raiding the tree at the back while said dog is snoring on the porch.

It doesn’t seem like the eagle owls mind him, either. One landed on the roof the other evening and he made a few obligatory warning barks at it. It just looked at him.

But I think the noise disturbed the quiet hunting spot, so the owl flew away after a while. Ranger also stepped right over a night adder the other day without even noticing it. That’s why our kids wear gumboots in the yard.

But I must say, this beautiful Golden Lab is phenomenal with our three boys. What a patient, wonderful dog to play with and love. They are so lucky to have him, and we are, too.

I’ll only call him Marley when he’s naughty, which is not that often it seems.

Published here.

Oribi Mom: How To Get Rid of an Uninvited Guest

“January has been busier than expected but also an exciting time of growth for our family.”

It’s still a mystery how these things happen, but life in Oribi Gorge is certainly keeping me on my toes. Last year would grind to a halt after almost a whole December of sick children and not much beach weather. But January was beckoning with new beginnings in so many areas.

Grade R. School runs. No plan to return maternity outfits. An action plan forming for feeding the bottomless pits who share my home. And I don’t mean the infuriating troop that strips my fruit trees and vines before we even get a taste.

The second week of school was going well. One of us even managed to make the parents’ meeting in the evening so that we could hear all the things we still had to organise for our eldest’s education. Big school is a lot of work for parents.

I’d left the stationery labelling to the very last minute with all the viral invaders vying for my children’s respiratory systems. I didn’t realise that sticking on over two hundred labels and covering books would be such a tedious exercise. Granted, I only had time to do it at around 9pm when I was already exhausted, but it took almost a week to finish. And that was without the plastic. (Did you know that self-sticking plastic covers are not very good at self-sticking?)

So, January has been busier than expected but also an exciting time of growth for our family. Other families seem to have grown too, including the Western Natal green snakes that live by the far porch. However, I didn’t expect to see one of their brood on my kitchen counter.

It was hiding behind the utensil bucket, right by the bread I was reaching for. At 20cm, swishing it quickly into a jug was enough for a very undramatic capture and release. The uninvited guest only needed a few prods but, like the crab, I have no idea how it even got up there. I guess one of this year’s tasks will be to investigate in case it isn’t such a harmless visitor next time.

Published here.

Oribi Mom: Almost Enough To Get the Blood Boiling

“About five minutes in, I hear screams and shouts and running feet outside. “Mom, come quick!” The husband is shouting for me to come get the baby. Where is my middle child? Is it another mamba?”

 

The heat draws out strange things, especially in the humans in my home. Everyone is a little grumpier, a little lazier, and with toddlers, far less covered in socially appropriate clothing.

As the jackal buzzards enjoy the thermals far above, we sit in any cool spot we can find and try to act normal. The garden doesn’t have much shade right now but my grandchildren should have a few big trees to sit under if I can help these saplings survive a few more Januaries.

Hot and Bothered Under the Collar

On one of these sweltering days, I was casually trying to dry four days’ worth of washing and get the housework under control. I heartily agreed to the husband’s request to take our three little farmboys to the pumphouse to put off the water.

Off they went for the 20 minute stroll, with the five-year-old refusing to don clothes and only wearing his costume bottoms. The two-year-old would not put on more than a nappy. And the baby would not wear a hat for more than twenty seconds.

Well, it might be worth 20 minutes of housework.

About five minutes in, I hear screams and shouts and running feet outside. “Mom, come quick!” The husband is shouting for me to come get the baby. Where is my middle child? Is it another mamba?

As I race in the direction of the gate, said middle child comes waltzing over the grass, completely naked, and not at all concerned about his mother’s worried face. Behind him is one of the farm workers who lives nearby, looking sweaty but definitely coming up to the house. What is going on?

Everybody Calm Down and Move the Wardrobe

It turns out that there was no big emergency. We needed help carrying a large piece of furniture into the house and our friendly neighbour had agreed to come in and help with the load on his way back from town. So, now we have a beautiful wardrobe in our room and I didn’t have to break any vertebrae or toes on the way. Isn’t life funny?

It’s still hot, but there’s a cool breeze blowing calm onto my porch in 2023. Maybe, it’s going to be a good year.

Published here.

Oribi Mom: A Nod to the Neighbours

“There’s still room for the good old days of community doing life together out of homes and garages.”

Isn’t it crazy to think that I’ve been going to the same hairdresser for the last twenty years? I didn’t ever think I’d be old enough to have these kinds of revelations, but here we are.

She cut my hair like Jennifer Aniston when I was fifteen. At thirty-six l have to admit that it’s always been my favourite style and I keep going back to those Hollywood layers.

Neighbourly Relationships Take Time But They’re Worth It

That’s not to say we haven’t had a journey. Like the time she cut my thick hair into a bob and I realized that it was the most irritating style I could ever have chosen. It’s impossible to tie up and hangs down into my face. I also have a curl to the one side at the back that makes a bob untidy whether I’ve brushed or blow-dried it.

Then there was the time that I came home, a new bride wanting a change. Pixie cuts are fun but only if your new husband is onboard with the drastic new look! If not, there may or may not be a few days of tense staring as he grieves the long locks he married. Don’t worry; it grew back and we’re heading towards our fifteenth anniversary.

You Miss The Neighbours When They Aren’t There Anymore

We also moved overseas for a little bit to teach English. Have you ever tried to have a haircut in a fancy-looking salon where not a soul speaks English? Pointing, gestures, nods, and smiles were not quite enough to explain the details of what I needed.

That Korean hairdresser ripped my ends to shreds with a blade and charged me more than I have ever paid for a haircut. It was a long year waiting to get back to my good old neighbourhood hairdresser so that she could fix up the mess. Fifteen minutes is all she needs to work miracles that grow out beautifully and look amazing.

These things remind me how special it is to have people like this in our lives. Neighbours who are hairdressers, coffee sellers, beauticians, travelling nurses, piano teachers, educational toy entrepreneurs, frozen meal chefs, and so much more.

There’s still room for the good old days of community doing life together out of homes and garages. There’s still a good reason to chat to the neighbours over the fence and see how we can help each other. You might even find yourself twenty years down the line appreciating how far you’ve come together.

Published here.

Oribi Mom: Running Into Summer on the South Coast

“Summer is coming and it feels greener since the pandemic started making its exit.”

November 5, 2022 

I’ve started running again. Okay, let’s call it what it is: a slow jog. A very slow one after three babies and a long year.

The last time I started jogging was after Baby Number Two. I was bitten by a night adder about a month into my routine and it didn’t go so well after that. But, I’m back again, kicking up dust and looking for bird distractions up the crazy hills.

I’ve tried to catch up to the giant water mongoose that lives by the stream, but it’s too quick. I’ve snuck up to the African Pygmy Kingfisher that lives in the bank, but my cellphone camera is woefully inadequate to get a clear picture. I usually see a bright blur darting out in front of me and know I’ve missed it.

Panting Up the Hills Is Part of Running Again

It’s also a little embarrassing coming into view of one of the occasional workers in the macs. It’s about that moment you realise that you’ve been panting aloud like some old dog all the way up the hill. Did the person just on the side of the ridge wonder why an old gogo was coming up the road in the middle of nowhere?

The crowned hornbills sometimes sit at the tops of the trees and laugh at me while I pant up the steep bits. With an elevation gain of about 150 metres during the jog, the steep bits include the first 2.5km or so. If I can make it past that, I can ease up the heart rate and cruise downhill for most of the way home.

There’s one part of my regular route I’ve named Death Hill. That’s probably slightly dramatic, but it certainly makes you feel like death warmed up when you’re at the bottom of it and want to get to the highest point on the farm. If you can push through, you can turn around and have a full view of the sea in the distance, Gamalakhe next to that, and Oribi Gorge and Paddock the other way.

You can also see some of the Southern Drakensberg on clear days. The view alone is worth a little bit of sweat and embarrassing panting most days.

Jog or Run or Walk, But Get Out and See the World

I’ve jogged many places in the world, including around a tiny Indonesian island where we snorkelled with turtles every day. I’ve jogged in the Mara Triangle in Kenya and wondered about lions hidden in the grass. Now, I’m running on my farm on the South Coast and it’s just as beautiful.

Summer is coming and it feels greener since the pandemic started making its exit. Who knows, maybe we won’t even have to cancel the holidays this year.

Published here.

Oribi Mom: No Wedding Video To Show Our Sons

“If we had invested in a professional videographer that day, we could have shown our sons what their parents, aunties, uncles and other friends looked like.”

Many of you may already know that it sometimes pays to go through your cupboards and boxes. All three boys are transitioning into the next clothing size and I was taking a hands-free 20 minutes to fold laundry and sort things out.

When the piles of clothing were finally back into the right spaces, my eyes fell on a shoebox right at the back of the shelf. Oh yes, Mom brought that over a few months ago and I haven’t had a chance to look in it yet.

As I opened it up, I realised it was a few things from my childhood room; some wedding invitations, a photograph or two; printer’s tray items. How sweet to remember the little ornaments I spent so much time looking at and playing with as a girl. Too delicate to pass on to rough and tumble toddler boys just yet, though.

Look Closer at the Memories for Treasures

As I scanned the items, I saw an envelope with a single name on it in my handwriting. Who is that? Let’s call him Ben.

I only remembered one person by that name – a boy in my primary school. I didn’t remember ever writing him a letter, so I opened it. Three R100 notes fell on the floor! And as I read the note, it became clear.

Here’s something to say thank you for taking our wedding video. Hope 2008 is a wonderful year for you!

Oh, that Ben.

The one who offered to film our wedding almost 15 years ago. The friend who never arrived.

Still Frames in the Mind Are Treasured, Too

That’s right, we don’t have a wedding video to remember our very special union at 21 and 23. Those fresh-faced young people in the photographs are captured in still frames only. Their sincere voices and excited celebrations are a distant memory now.

Wedding guests didn’t have smartphones to capture clips of the day. There wasn’t even WhatsApp.

Car trouble, sorry,” the message said as we were dressing for our long-awaited big day.

We’d dated for six years and were finally old enough to tie the knot. As we stood overlooking the ocean and said our vows, only the guests and gulls bore witness. We signed papers and we beamed at the prospect of what the future might hold for us.

Guests swam between the ceremony and the reception to stave off the oppressive January heat. Speeches and friends’ songs made everybody cry and laugh. And then, we moved on with our lives.

Maybe We’d Do It Differently But Time Doesn’t Rewind – Enjoy the Moments!

Maybe if we had invested in a professional videographer that day, we could have shown our sons what their parents, aunties, uncles and other friends looked like and how they sounded at the start of something beautiful.

Thankfully, we’ve invested more wisely into marriage. Love takes work, but the reward of reaching 15 years with three kids and a full memory bank has been worth it so far.

And, now we have some cash to go on a well-deserved date night one of these days to celebrate. Happy early anniversary to us.

Published here.

Oribi Mom: Do What Makes You You

“Parenting three under five is probably not the time of life to be writing books for fun but the opportunities will come if I let them.”

September 5, 2022

Have you ever heard and then seen a huge swarm of bees approaching as your newborn sleeps on your lap? It’s quite terrifying at first. You wonder whether they are going to come straight at you on the porch or pass by. The sound is incredible, a crescendo out of nowhere … before disappearing as the bees speed off to wherever they are going.

How can you describe that feeling of uncertainty when a thousand stings approaches and you don’t know the outcome? I think it is called exhilaration. Not knowing whether the next moment will be a good one is a physical experience as well as a mental one. It heightens the senses, pumps the adrenaline and gets the muscles ready to do their thing.

Your Body Suddenly Says, “Pay Attention”

It is the same kind of feeling that my almost five year-old gets when he sees a yellow or orange crane arm extended into the skyline. A digger! Will it be huge? Will it have a hook? Will it be operating as we drive past? The excitement is palpable as we drive via the N3 to Pietermaritzburg with all the roadworks in play. Every ten seconds a new shout of ‘excavator’ trumpets from the backseat all the way into town.

I recently had a fresh injection of exhilaration seeing my very first full length book in print. It didn’t matter that it was a ghostwriting project that my name will never be on – those are my words right there in black and white forever. What a feeling!

Why would I write a book for someone else? Perhaps a better question is why would someone hire me to write a book for them when they could do it themselves. The short answer is that some people have ideas they don’t know how to express in the way that does them justice. Writers can do it and do it well for the most part.

Your Mind Says, “Stay Calm and Breathe”

For me it is a job that I can do at home with my three boys in tow. Finding a client who wants to pay me to do what I love for six months to a year is well, worth any sacrifice of fame or prestige. One day when I have the time to churn out all the books that have embedded themselves into my imagination I won’t need a professional ghostwriter. It is still a dream to write my own books for now, though seeing this first one done and dusted makes it feel a lot more achievable. I know it can be done even as I feed my third baby and watch my toddlers wrestle on the grass.

Parenting three under five is probably not the time of life to be writing books for fun but the opportunities will come if I let them. Eyes open for those exhilarating moments of bees, books, and being me.

Published here.

Oribi Mom: Clicking My Heels Because There’s No Place Like Home

“What a blessing to be right here.”

So, we had our first parent’s meeting the other day. It was just before school. My one-year-old came with us and played on the mat. We sat down and listened to how our sweet four-year-old is navigating RR. But all that my brain managed to process in those first few minutes was, “How did I get here?”

From the Classroom to an Exotic Beach

I had this flashback to lying on a slightly scratchy bamboo lounger reading a faded old novel I’d found at the reception desk that morning. The cobalt and turquoise sea was just ten metres in front of us. It was gorgeous in the sunlight, despite a few clouds left over from a recent cyclone that had passed through the central Philippines. We had endured a few days of rain with more sleep, more reading, and a cheap massage or two. Now, we were back in the sun and waiting for the tide to come in a bit so we could get to the reef.

It was quite sharp and rocky near the shore, but once you got deeper, the reef stretched for several kilometres in either direction. If you were lucky, one or two lazy hours with a snorkel and a rash vest brought endless colours; parrot fish, octopus, banded sea kraits, zebra fish, peacock shrimps and so much more. If you were really lucky, there would be a few green turtles or leatherbacks swimming by, close enough to follow but never slow enough to touch. Amazing!

But, here I was sitting on a yellow plastic chair as my son’s teacher spoke about our little boy. I’m almost a mom of three! We have lived in one place for almost five years, a record for us both. We undertook a quest in the Bornean jungle to find some of the last wild Pygmy elephants – and found them after five days! Now, I was watching my toddler happily dumping out every toy container he could find in his brother’s classroom, right before school.

There’s no place like home

How did we get here indeed. Life doesn’t stop for soaked-to-the-bone speedboat rides from Malaysia into Thailand. It only lets you remember all the fantastic things you’ve seen along the way. Maybe it was the sun rays on the wall that suddenly drew me back to our adventures.

As I listened to how much my boy has grown and learned, I had another thought. “What a blessing to be right here!” This is home now, with two tiny boys starting their own adventures alongside us. I could never have imagined how things would turn out while I searched the tree tops for that one wild orangutan we found, but I’m so glad that we kept going. It’s a new day, and I’m happy to be living in it.

Published here.

Oribi Mom: Escaping the Black Death To Die Another Day

Oribi Mom: Escaping the Black Death To Die Another Day

Black Mamba found in chicken coop.

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

Well, it has happened. After five years of peace, we are now in the club of locals who have had a close encounter with a big black mamba. It was in our chicken coop this afternoon, and we didn’t see it.

The two-year-old and four-year-old asked to feed the chickens as they do each day. Their dad gave them each a cup of feed to put into the bowl. The bigger one was behind his brother and happened to look up as they walked to the entrance. Thankfully, he saw a large snake curled up in the corner of the enclosure and held his little brother back without thinking about why.

He called his dad with a casual “Snake, Dad.” Dad walked to the cage to have a look, but instead of seeing the usual Herald, egg eater or green snakes that are often around, he saw a very large, still relaxed black mamba! It’s like looking death right in the face and wondering whether you’ve stepped too close to change your mind.

He scooped up our tiny boys and ran to deposit them safely into my care. He went back to handle things with a fast-responding neighbour and too much adrenaline. I stripped my sons down to their undies to check for marks, a mother’s worst nightmare to be sure. They protested loudly but seemed intact and free of death-inducing puncture marks.

All they needed was a hug, a wet wipe bath, and some juice and popcorn chips to calm down from their big fright. Fortunately but terrifyingly, the snake was gone when dad went back to look for it. Hopefully, it is somewhere far, far away.

Where Was the Black Mamba Before This?

Earlier that morning I had taken a long walk around the farm. In five kilometres, I had seen a handful of colourful birds, a tractor, and a lizard. Was the mamba near my gate the whole time? Probably.

At 29 weeks pregnant, I could probably still run faster than I ever have before if I saw that thing next to me. The experts say that even big snakes like this specimen have a first instinct to get away. But, my two little boys were directly in front of its easiest escape route, well within the recommended five-metre distance you should be away from any mamba you happen to see in the wild.

God’s angels live here, too. So, we are alive for another day in Oribi Gorge. And, very grateful.

Published here.