Tag Archives: farm

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Number Three 18 Months and The Next Phase

“I wonder if the next phase is going to be just as eventful?”

Heather Lind.

February 16, 2024

It seems impossible, but here we are. The youngest of the three Oribi farm boys in our house is already eighteen months old. He is running around, navigating steps, imitating the Samango calls and climbing antics, and eating mince by himself. Well, that last one is a ‘sort of’ by himself, because a lot of it still lands up on the floor for the two dogs or the two million ants that apparently live under our home.

Eighteen months ago, we were in NICU and unsure whether we would be going home with or without him. I don’t wish that on any mother or father. Now, here we are, a world away, and trying to keep up with the shoe sizes changing every few weeks. We’ve exchanged time standing still for weeks that fly by and make you wonder how on earth the pantry can be empty again. Didn’t we just go shopping? Weren’t there two full boxes of grapes in the fridge yesterday? Farm boys are hungry boys.

One at primary school, one at playschool, and one in nappies. Three that love tractors, trucks, TLBs, jigaduzas, and crop-spraying helicopters. One that’s allergic to penicillin. Another that’s allergic to being told ‘no’.

Time Waits For Nobody, So Enjoy It

We’re two-and-a-half years down the line from the rioting that had night watch duty, and four years on from the start of the global pandemic. Did we really wear masks and avoid malls and deplete the toilet paper stocks of every shop everywhere? What a crazy few years it’s been for these particular parents of very small children. It seems like the world has not only turned on its axis but also flipped upside down a few times. I suspect that many of you can relate, even if stinky nappies haven’t been part of your recent experience.

And life goes on. It is going on.
It feels a little overwhelming to speculate what a few more years could bring when the last seven for our family have been, well, let’s call it surprising. God isn’t surprised, no doubt. For the rest of us, it’s all a bit of a rollercoaster.

I wonder if the next phase is going to be just as eventful here in Oribi Gorge. Adventure awaits, I’m sure.

Published here.

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: It’s Heartwarming To See Honesty Boxes

“You put your money into the honesty box that’s on the table and then go home with your beautiful plant.”

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

September 25, 2023

When you drive up from the nature reserve, there’s a little table of plants in front of a polocrosse field. I often get strawberry plants and other little flowers from there to spruce up my garden. They have labels with a price or just a sign that says R10 or something. And you put your money into the honesty box that’s on the table and then go home with your beautiful plant.

The boys even bought a little strawberry plant the other day for a local Gogo’s birthday. Their dad helped them deliver it to her door, and the next week she had two fresh strawberries in her pot. They also bought me a blackberry bush so that we can grow our own sweet berries to eat. It’s very prickly and I haven’t found a good place for it yet. Didn’t Farmer McGregor have a blackberry hedge that Peter Rabbit hid behind? Maybe I’ll try that.

If I’m Honest, There’s So Much To See In Oribi Gorge

The honesty table even had a geocache by it a while ago! The boys were very excited to spend an afternoon doing that with their cousins and have found all sorts of little treasures in our area here.

Plus, if we drive slowly enough, we can see the ostriches that live at the polocrosse field, a sight that really excites little imaginations. They’re spectacular birds, though it seems odd to call them that.

They’re nothing like mannikins or the lovely sunbird that’s back making her nest on my porch this year again. They can’t soar over the deep gorge and farmlands like the majestic vulture colonies we adore here. And they don’t sit still in the shadows and blend in with the green like the gorgeous Narina trogons, either.

In any case, seeing ostriches in Oribi Gorge shouldn’t come as a surprise. It’s a place that takes your breath away for many reasons, including the beauty of still being able to have an honesty box in the neighbourhood.

Don’t forget your R10 notes next time you come up here. You might get a flower or shrub for your garden to remind you of this beautiful part of the world.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Up Close and Personal With Nature

“How wonderful that we get to see these creatures right here at home, sharing this space with us.”

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

 

September 18, 2023

How close have you stood to a buck? Could you see the roughness of its coat shimmering in the sun as it twitched its nose at you? Could you see the concern in its bright black eyes at your proximity? I’m always surprised at how big some of them are.

The other day, I was running through the macadamias. I was on a little detour from my usual route, just on a whim. Why not? The sun was out.

A Surprise Encounter Could Have Gone Either Way

A few kilometres further, I was following the fire break’s very uneven path. It made it hard to run fast, but at least the cliffs and river made for gorgeous views. I was trying to find my way back to the main farm road to head home. I knew the general direction but it’s not easy to see over hills and around big trees for grass tracks.

Going up one steep, I had my head down. Admittedly, I was puffing and panting a bit at that point. So, I didn’t see the huge reedbuck in the bracken right next to me. It must have been lying down. And suddenly, about two metres from me, it jumped up and charged, thankfully in the other direction.

As its hooves thundered, all I could think of was how grateful I was that it wasn’t a bushbuck. Those charge at you – ask one of our neighbours who landed up in hospital!

The Antelope’s Size Up Close Is Breathtaking

I remember being in the Drakensberg as a child and suddenly finding myself at very close range to a few eland grazing by a little stream. The beasts were absolutely gigantic. I was standing near enough to see their ears flicking the flies away and the ticks on their rumps.

As an adult, I’d be standing quite a bit further away I think. Those horns and heavy bodies aren’t worth a selfie. But they’re so beautiful. I see them down the road here every now and again, but always at a distance on this game reserve’s hills.

How wonderful that we get to see these creatures right here at home, sharing this space with us. I think it might be a good idea to stick to the main roads on most other days, though. ‘Trampled’ isn’t something I hoped to have on my tombstone.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Still Lots To Look At During the Winter in Oribi Gorge

“Each season brings something to appreciate in Oribi Gorge.”

PHOTO BY PIXABAYJuly 29, 2023

A bat flew out of a bush today, right by my head. I thought it was a bird because it was about the size of a firefinch, but it had those distinctive zigzag wings and was flying around in circles for a while. It reminded me that it was nearly time to go inside. I’d been hacking the garden.

There’s this insane vine that just decided to grow on top of my rambling rose and then, because I left it for so long, it just basically took over every single thing it could grow over, including the long grass.

Well, I’m no longer pregnant and my baby is giving me more free minutes in the afternoon, so I’ve hacked it. But it’s even grown pods, so I’ll have to hack its progeny next year, too. I shouldn’t have left it so long.

Winter in Oribi Gorge Is Still So Beautiful

Winter is a beautiful time here, with aloes in full flower and lots of clearing on the go. We chop hedges and clear out half-dead weeds. It is not so scary in winter because the snakes are much less active.

I still look closely into every pile of leaves or bush I put my hand into, though. Puffies won’t move until I’m right next to them. Large mambas curl up tight. And boomslang females look just like the leafless branches you’re cutting back or pulling off the tree.

I was spraying one of the dirty windows the other day when I happened to look up a little higher to see a very large spider dangling just above my face. Some sort of orb spider, I think. Very pretty. And terrifying when it’s almost as big as your face and within a ruler’s length from your nose.

Thankfully, it was scrambling up toward the roof on its silky thread at that point. I don’t mind orb spiders eating the insects trying to get in my window. It’s much safer than the hundreds of brown button spiders you have to watch for on pot plants, the lemon tree, and under wooden tables and chairs.

Warm Winters Are a Bonus on the South Coast, Aren’t They?

Winter thins these things out to make room. But I’m still glad I’m living in one of the warmest places in South Africa. The cold is not for me.

The bats are also confused it seems. This one came out at 16:30 because the sun had dropped below our hills already. At least that means the eagle owls are sometimes on our garage roof by about 18:30 these days.

Each season brings something to appreciate in Oribi Gorge.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Family Menagerie Might Not Be Done Yet

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

PHOTO BY PIXABAYJuly 25, 2023

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

Oribi Mom: Shifting Seasons (South Coast Herald Lifestyle Column)

What a gift it is to be able to pass the winters in such rich company.

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

July 4, 2023

There’s a definite shift as autumn fades on the South Coast. The grass starts turning brown, even with these strange storms every now and then that give it a boost of green for a few extra days.

When we look out over the valley to the opposite slope, the brown is obvious between the evergreen pines. But when you look at the canopy of the indigenous forest just below the house, it still looks as green as mid-summer.

Different Seasons, Different Visitors

But the stickiness in the air is gone now. And there are very different sorts of birds around the garden. The scarlet firefinches come out to hop over the short grass and through the thickets.

The toppies pair off and make a racket in the berry trees, competing with the clumsy mousebirds for the fruit. Even the Crowned Hornbills fly up from the bottom of the valley daily now.

The hornbills’ orange beaks glimmer in the sunshine as they noisily flit from tree to tree. They always look like they’re going to fall out of the sky and then pump their wings to lift their bodies again and again. It’s a very awkward flying style, and easy to identify if you can only see a silhouette against the glare. They’ve got quite a melodic sound compared to the screeching Trumpeter Hornbills, too.

So Much Colour and Life in Oribi Gorge in Winter

The Greater Double-collared Sunbirds are also fluttering about chasing off rivals so that they can sample the aloes in peace. The orioles are wonderfully vocal, too. They flash bright yellow with black heads, zipping right over our house as they disappear back to the safety of the forest in the late afternoon.

The kingfisher’s turquoise, the Amethyst Sunbird’s black, and the tinkerbird’s red dot are also daily gems. With all the colours, we rarely notice the brown grass or the dusty roads. What a gift it is to be able to pass the winters in such rich company.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Hearing the Roar of the Waterfall

Apparently there is some special limestone-evolved skink here that researchers are trying to pin down.

The beautiful waterfall. PHOTO BY: HEATHER LIND

June 25, 2023

It’s quite a struggle leaving home in the dark. Winter school runs require some otherworldly resolve to crawl out from under the covers. You must will yourself to get the small children dressed, fed, and half-decent for the day.

It’s also ridiculous how much colder we are in Oribi Gorge and Paddock than in town. Oribi Dad often leaves home in the dark with a fleece top and beanie and returns an hour later with a T-shirt and sunglasses. Why bother?

This weather is confusing, too. One minute it’s so dry we’re irrigating the baby macadamia trees and the next there’s giant thunderstorms ripping through our echoing gorge. They strike Eskom poles to leave the whole place off the grid, and not in that idealistic sort of way.

The Waterfall Roars After a Good Storm in Oribi Gorge

The waterfall below our house really pounds after that rain as the water drains from all the surrounding slopes and gathers in the streambed. It roars, much louder than the cane trucks. It’s louder than the UGU bus putting its accelerator flat on the floor to try and get up our winding gorge road without stalling. The waterfall is even louder than the tractors sometimes, and those whizz right past the house.

You can get to the bottom of the waterfall with some careful balancing and boulder-hopping off the rough trail. And once you do, it’s hard to describe the transformation. The cane, macadamias, and tea tree are far above you. The sounds stop, except for the birds. The bright sunlight doesn’t even make it down there into the moss-covered rocks and twisty skyscraper trees.

Down Into a Magical World Out of Sound and Time

I imagine that’s how Middle Earth’s elven forests must have been in the mind of its maker. It’s like you’ve stepped into a world of fantasy. But you still have to look out for the area’s rather impressive selection of dangerous creatures.

Even grumpy bushbuck aren’t the safest, though seeing them gracefully walking down the narrow bush trails is still spectacular. Apparently there is some special limestone-evolved skink here that researchers are trying to pin down. I’m yet to find it. But there’s still time.

Maybe the dark, cold winter mornings aren’t the most enjoyable part of family life on the farm. But the beauty and diversity of this place makes up for it in a big way. And the aloes, now those are always a great reason to look forward to June on the South Coast, aren’t they?

Published here.

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Welcome to the Farm

“It was a wonderful weekend.”

PHOTO BY PIXABAYJune 19, 2023 

So, there’s this welcome sign on our cottage front door, a relic of some previous tenants that have long since moved on to other adventures. It’s pretty, and kind of green. A nice touch for a little one-room space that’s seen quite a few people come and go.

Time For Some Visitors on the Farm Again

There were a few less while we were in the middle of the pandemic, but the other day we opened up the cottage to visiting family members for two nights. We managed to get it looking quite fresh. We even removed the giant black scorpion that had made its home in one of the corners.

It took around a week of mad cleaning, scraping, scooping, spraying, and wiping. Endless layers of dust seem to accumulate so quickly from cane fires, dusty roads, and the cement factory down the valley.

Nice Visitors Are Always Welcome

At some point, we noticed a hornet or two staring at us from a wall or a window. A baby brown house snake appeared and then disappeared, hopefully to the garden. Thankfully we didn’t find mold or bigger slithering residents. And the windows opened up the whole place to a nice breeze and the beautiful smell of the basil outside in full bloom.

It was a wonderful weekend. We celebrated. We chatted. We hid from the massive rainstorm that brought about 45mm to the farm in less than two hours. Some of us whispered prayers of thanks under our breath that the storm only managed to find two drips from the ceiling. Nothing came crashing down.

And then, we waved goodbye armed with lots of photographs, including one of a tiny little tilapia that an ecstatic three-year-old fisherman hooked.

Some Not So Nice Visitors Aren’t As Welcome

Cleaning up just took a few minutes. And, we closed up the cottage again so that the next guests might have slightly less dust to contend with.

For good measure, I sprayed the old ant nests we’d vacuumed up from all the inside walls. Then, I sprayed the welcome sign as an afterthought, just in case the ants had started eating through the wooden door under there… and, I had to run fast!

As I sprayed, about thirty hornets angrily emerged to show me what they thought of my cleanup efforts. They didn’t get me. Thankfully, they hadn’t got my guests, either.

Still, the irony of that warm welcome wasn’t lost on me. Next time, we’ll at least warn our unsuspecting visitors!

Published here.