Tag Archives: lifestyle column

Oribi Mom

Oribi Mom: Buzzing Into the Newer New Normal

“The summer is almost over and all these creatures will be gone for another season.”

Picture from PexelsMarch 11, 2023

It’s March again. And the ants, hornets, and wasps are in a tizz. I think if I sat in my favourite porch chair long enough, these army ants would probably carry me off into their city beneath the steps.

I’m not sure about how much research has gone into an ant’s sense of smell, but it must be incredible. One dropped piece of litchi skin under the kids table is enough to alert the whole lot of them to the feast. They march across the porch, hundreds of big black ants with reddish heads. They nip, too.

Maybe that’s why the geckos don’t pay any attention to them as they search every inch of the concrete. Or, maybe the geckos are too busy keeping out of the way of the huge female Western Natal green snake that comes to my front door on most hot afternoons. They love eating skinks, but thankfully, they’re not interested in toes.

It’s a Dog-Eat-Dog Sort of World But Snakes Don’t Eat Hornets

I do wish the snakes would eat the hornets, though. Those little brown ones with yellow stripes are so cheeky. Oribi Dad has had a couple of occasions where he’s been walking innocently past something and received several stings on the head for his troubles. And boy, does it burn.

The wasps are a little less of a problem, but they get right up in your face whenever they feel like it. You can be quietly typing away one minute and furiously swatting away at a buzzing enemy the next.

The high-pitched sound they make while they’re making their mud nests is the most annoying thing to hear. It signals that the housekeeper (me) is going to have to locate the sound, uncover the nest’s hiding place, and knock it down before it gets too big.

The black and yellow wasps love the curtain creases. The huge purple or black ones love the highest places on the lounge wall. And the mud doesn’t just fall off either. It needs scrubbing, scraping, and a lot of patience to erase all traces. If you let them get too far ahead, you also get the pleasure of knocking down a nest filled with poor paralyzed spiders – one in each compartment for a wasp baby to eat!

Well, it won’t be hot forever. The summer is almost over. All these creatures will be gone for another season. For us, the year is just getting going. There’s so much to look forward to now that the calendar is out of its COVID hibernation.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

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.”

Life on the farm can be full of surprises. See that baby snake there?
February 6, 2023 

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

Oribi Mom: Make Smarter Choices

“This year, we can choose how we want to live, work and play.”

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

January 31, 2023

It seems like we all need a reminder this new year about the choices we have in life. For a while now, many of us have felt trapped by the after effects of pandemic regulations and all those cancelled events.

We still see those six-feet apart queue stickers on the floor at the shops. We still automatically glare at people who dare to sneeze in public. But we don’t have to be stuck with the way things are.

Why don’t we strive to make smarter choices? This year, we can choose how we want to live, work and play.

Choose To Live Differently Post-Pandemic

School is back in session and everything is open again. We can go back to church and parties. We can go back to the office fulltime if we’ve missed it or carve out new routines if we’re tired of the old ones.

We no longer have to live under the pressure of a masked world. No more pointing fingers at nostrils that can’t seem to stay hidden behind stretched fabric or reused disposable masks.

We might also want to rethink choices like where we buy or rent a home. For example, we can be smart by not buying a home near a little stream in Pietermaritzburg that has a relentless resident buff-spotted flufftail. If we can avoid this stupid decision, we can save ourselves decades of having to listen to that siren-like sound that goes all night, every night, forever. It’s even worse when it competes with frogs, dogs and car alarms.

These rare birds might be a drawcard for nature lovers. But occasionally visiting the stream is a far smarter decision than letting a little bird chip away at your sanity night after sleepless night.

Choose To Live Smarter Going Forward

We should also make smarter choices about our time this year. For instance, planting a granadilla vine that grows up every column on the porch might seem like a great natural decorating strategy. However, it turns out these vines are super messy and difficult to control.

You could spend hours hacking away, untangling, and eventually having to cut it all down without a single granadilla produced. A smarter choice would be to save time by letting it grow in a place it can go crazy without needing pruning or blocking out the sunshine (now I know!).

Whether it’s a vine or a social calendar, smart choices could save us a lot as we reorganize our priorities around busier schedules this year. Our smallest choices still count towards building our lives. The flufftail apparently enjoys droning booo-booo-booo into the darkness. We can enjoy ourselves, too.

In any case, we can choose to be better. Any step forward is progress, no matter the length of the stride.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

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.”

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

January 15, 2023

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

Oribi Mom: Rainy Nights Where the Wild Things Are

“The owls were there before lockdown, and they are still eating insects on the lawn all these years later.”

PHOTO BY PIXABAY

 

November 15, 2022

It’s been a rough week. The boys aren’t sleeping through and the baby is up every two hours still. Loadshedding isn’t helping me find my groove, especially when the geyser switch keeps tripping. Rain is keeping us inside but helping our tiny macadamia trees grow.

Last night, I went to bed at 6pm with the children and fell fast asleep. At 7pm, the lights came back on and two spotted eagle owls started making a racket on the lawn. They make a sort of screeching growling sound right outside my window. Why? They’re chasing crickets!

One sits on the top of the garage playing lookout and the other one screeches and screeches while hopping awkwardly on the grass. They are hilarious to watch, running as though they had brand new shoes that were too big to go fast and waddling like they have a full nappy. They hop and bow and watch me watching them through the window. It’s too dark to video but the spotlight lets us see them in full view.

These huge birds are very impressive. And, them waking me up was a grand piece of luck. I forgot it was Wednesday and almost didn’t send in our grocery order for the weekly Thursday delivery. It’s a remnant of COVID lockdown that’s still going, and it is a lifeline to us fresh milk and bread lovers.

The owls were there before lockdown, and they are still eating insects on the lawn all these years later. I hope some things don’t change too quickly. Our little one is almost four months old already and changes every day. He’s started to giggle, and his two-year-old brother has started playschool.

Time is marching on. But hopefully the owls and all the other beautiful creatures at the farm will be unchanged when we look back on our lives here one day. They make me smile on the bad days. The farmhouse wouldn’t be the same without their summer shenanigans. And, at least they’re controlling the thriving cricket population making holes all over our lawn.

Published here.

Oribi Mom, Travelinds

Oribi Mom: Running Into Summer on the South Coast

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

Jogging on beaches in Indonesia was often beautiful but home has less plastic rubbish. PHOTO HEATHER LIND

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

Oribi Mom: Post-Apocalypse? No Just the Mall

“Dim lights greeted us, thanks to yet another load shedding cycle. Empty shops had papered windows and scratched off signs.”

PHOTO: Unsplash

October 25, 2022

I had a strange experience the other day. Work stuff had been tedious that day and the afternoon brought a very strong craving for fish and chips. So, we took the half-hour front into town.

After some fresh fillets and a little runaround, we went off to the mall. Why? Because that’s what rural farm people who live thirty minutes from the nearest shop must do. We tend to buy groceries whenever we come to the big city (fresh milk is such a luxury). Our family also loves the fresh smoothies on sale for R10 at our favourite fruit and veg shop. Steel straws trump the disgusting paper ones for these delicious and refreshing fruit concoctions.

Warning: these smoothies do not do well when dropped onto the floor – and they slide easily out of the baby seat in the trolley!

Anyway, with two children under five and a pregnant lady, a bathroom break is inevitable on these trips. This time we ventured into the family bathroom, the ones with the tiny toilet next to the big toilet and a low basin next to a normal one. The children think it’s a huge joke. And, at least we don’t have to make excuses for wet tyres on the car in the parking lot.

Walking through the mall was incredibly strange, though. We haven’t really been out much in two years, especially as a whole family. We let the boys have a few minutes on the jungle gym. They were the only children there!

Four years ago, we used to go weekly with our toddler and happily let him play with any other children he found. How life has changed. Now we run the other way if another person is in sight. We sanitise. We stay vigilant about where they are at all times, especially near the surfaces people lean on.

As we walked over to the final leg of the grocery shop, it was equally disturbing. Dim lights greeted us, thanks to yet another loadshedding cycle. Empty shops had papered windows and scratched off signs.

ATMs had ‘Out of Order’ pages taped onto their screens. Is this the South Coast post-apocalypse? What did we miss? Maybe we should just go back to the farm again. Though, I’m happy to say that we repeated this trip more recently and everything seemed a lot more ‘normal’.

There’s hope.

Published here.

Oribi Mom

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.”

The reward of reaching 15 years with three kids and a full memory bank has been worth it so far.

October 1, 2022

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

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.”

Do all boys love TLBs and other giant machines? PHOTO HEATHER LIND

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

Oribi Mom: There Is a Time For Everything Under the Sun

“Now, those ears and noses and toes and curls are growing, and my sons are eating me out of house and home.”

PHOTO BY SANDY MILLAR/UNSPLASH

November 2, 2021

Never had four baby bunnies inadvertently born into a dark corner of your lounge on a Friday morning? Then, you probably haven’t witnessed how quickly little pink bodies transform into the sweetest fluffy rabbits. I think it’s the tiny ears that really get me. Almost as cute as the little noses on my sons when they were new to this world.

Now, those ears and noses and toes and curls are growing. And my sons are eating me out of house and home.

Boys and Bunnies Grow Fast

Boys and bunnies are incessantly exploring every new and wonderful thing they come across in life and here I stand, wondering how it all happened so quickly.

As life marches on, I am struck by how often I feel a sense of urgency. I get into a tailspin, trying to do everything at top speed in the ‘free’ moments of each day so that my home, garden, and family are taken care of between work and obligations. What’s the hurry?

Older, wiser people voice the idea of enjoying this time and appreciating the small moments, so why does it always feel like such a rush? Do I really need to fit in the dishes before bathtime so that my toddler’s milk bottle is clean and ready for the long night of frequent wake-ups?

Will I feel better if I have a cup of coffee on the porch instead of hanging washing, stacking dishes, cleaning up toys, preparing pyjamas, turning down bed covers, and finding fresh towels? I don’t know.

There’s a Time for Everything Even If There Isn’t Time for Everything

There are only a certain number of hours in the day, and I’m a thirty-something working-from-home mother of two. Sometimes, being “organised” is very satisfying as my time runs out.

It’s that Ecclesiastes 3 echo again, a time for everything, a season for every activity under the sun. Maybe, this is my season right now.

A rushed, happy, full-of-love season that’s meant for growth. I’m growing plants, pets, and children. I’m growing in my knowledge of snakes, birds, vegetable gardens, and trees. The country is growing used to pandemic lockdowns (it’s been eighteen months!).

There is a season for everything. But that also means that change could be around the corner. For now, I will watch my boys grow and zoom around cleaning, tidying, cooking, washing, feeding, and witnessing this special time in life. And maybe I’ll try to slow down a little to give these new bunnies an extra cuddle while their ears are so adorable.

I hope your season brings you as much joy; be patient if it doesn’t, nothing lasts forever.

Published here.