3D REFLECTIONS OF LIFE

Our life's journey is indeed a series of seasons. People enter our lives, walk part of our journey with us and then follow their own course. Like Geraldine, my sister-in-law who passed on yesterday. Thankfully, we can still draw strength from the legacy she has left us and pay our tributes to her.

Sasha with her cousins who came along for the Matric Results announcement   Just the other day, almost nineteen years ago, I discovered we were going to have another baby. I don't want to bore you with all the details, but Sasha was a complete surprise to us. At the time, my dad who was still here with us, was more excited than I was. He reminded an emotional me of the blessings and privilege it was to be a parent. I swear that when I was in labour (forever again), he was sitting on the armchair, keeping watch over his second granddaughter.   Today I was all soppy again. Time flies too fast. Sasha has suddenly grown into this beautiful, young woman. While we were chatting one day, she said:   " I explained to my friends that I have to take small steps so that you can get used to the fact that I am no longer twelve years old. I will go out to clubs, then take a break to allow you guys to recover, then go out again. I want to help you deal with the shock of having an eigh...

  Whether we are talking about the nuclear or the extended family, we can expect to find a delicate, explosive network that is second to none.   Families bitch and moan. They can suck up your bone marrow better than a giant octopus. Competition is their middle name. The house, children, jobs and pets are fair game during any family gathering. How many times don't we just want to throw in the towel and swear we don't need this madness in our lives?   Then there's the creme de la creme personality of families. The Pacific Ocean is too small to hold all the love and concern they have for us. When we succeed, they rally the shooting stars to broadcast our achievements to the world. Their drooling makes our spines curl and the water rise in our knees. Don't we just want to hug them eternally on these occasions?   Such is the life of families. Embrace this ambivalence that provides the fuel for REAL families. Families are alive, high energy organisms that need constant int...

Seasoned campers like Lynn cannot enjoy their own music If you want to maximise your camping experience, don't be a spoilsport. Just stick to the rules. Your neighbour is a tent flap away from you and you will invariably bump into many of your temporary neighbours at the communal ablution facilities. That is how intimate and relational camping is. Below are turn -offs that give camping a bad name: 1. Miserable, aloof people. These folk move around the camp as if it is a leper colony. They can barely greet and almost choke when you acknowledge their presence. I am convinced they need therapy for all those strained neck muscles when they get home. 2. The Blaring unsolicited resident deejays. This group often overestimate their role as bridge builders at the camping resort. Their music blares non stop and they drown out the music of all other campers. I can imagine how frustrated others may feel who made an effort to organise their camp music and their music equip...

Dorian and Jackie on their way to sign the register . Dorian, Basil's nephew, married his sweetheart, Jackie, finally! The two of them have been together for a few years now and we were thrilled to celebrate their wedding at the beautiful Fernwood Estate. Dorian and Jackie's children - all four of them - played an active part in the wedding ceremony. Their happy faces told the world that today was their glorious day too. They are now officially the Big Six. I don't know about you, but I become marshmallowish when I see love and happiness walking on high heels. There we sat in the garden, witnessing two people declaring their love and commitment in public. I was mesmerized by the pastor's message of the three Cs of love. By the time Dorian and Jackie recited their marriage vows, I was saying them myself. Quietly, of course. Dorian and Jackie's daughters formed part of the entourage. This wedding in an idyllic garden setting, on a perfect summer's da...

Christmas Eve party with the Lewinskies We are in the season of generosity and we often give gifts to more people than we usually do. When we make our list of gifts we want to give to others, we must guard against our desires to get something similar in return. Giving is a spontaneous, selfless act.   A gift is a multi-layered act of kindness. Think of an onion. When you peel back the layers of an onion, you arrive at its centre. Such is the structure of a gift. Deep inside - way past the physical manifestation - you will find a part of you that you have shared with another person. Therein lies the value of the gift. It is this relational element that separates the act of giving from a business transaction.   When you attach a price tag to a gift, it is no longer a gift. Whatever you gave becomes a trade-off, an investment. Subconsciously, you are making demands on the person to pay you back. You start adding up what you have done, the cost involved and the sacrifices you hav...

Today was fantastic. The day started on a high note. The birds were having their early morning breakfast talk in the Brazilian pepper tree in our backyard and the sun was already beaming its energy across the skies from seven o clock.   My programme was sorted. Today was Brett and Geraldine Time. I was not going to touch anything related to work.   Tramway supporters with Peter and Brett. At the #C.T.T.F.A Soccer Finals in Somerset West   Our first trip was to the C.T.T.F.A Senior Soccer Knockout Finals held at the De Beers A.F.C soccer fields in Somerset West. Tramway F.C was a finalist in one of the divisions and our eldest son, Brett, was playing.   There is very little that can beat the atmosphere at soccer tournaments. Cheering crowds, beer and food gardens, umpire whistles, vuvuzelas - heaven!   Tramway F.C. Winners with their coach   Tramway had the best supporters in the house. Peter, one of the Brett's teammates, brought along his workers to the t...

Ma and a few of her grandchildren Ma, my mother-in-law, celebrated her 87th birthday today, looking so radiant and full of life still. Ma and a few of her grandchildren Ma is actually 88 years old, but the authorities made a mistake when they issued her birth certificate and identity document many, many years ago. After trying to fix this mistake, Ma eventually gave up. She now follows the date on her ID. Kathy, my sister-in-law, explains that her mother-in-law, gained a year, also because of a Home Affairs error. Those were the days at Home Affairs when people's names were either misspelt or changed if the person recording the name could not pronounce or spell the name.   Claude, Ma's grandson and pastor of a church, gave a beautiful service and then we tucked into all the delicious treats. Ma was delighted because she was surrounded by her children, grandchildren, great grandchildren and her friends whom she had known for many, many years.   Ma has been a pillar of strength ...

I now declare defeat against the Missing Sock.   There is definitely magical power at work. Eeky stuff! You just can't crack the mystery like the Tooth Fairy or the Father Christmas mysteries that were solved as you grew up. Finding out that the Tooth Fairy was your mother in Mother Hubbard stoop or that your dad's paunch evaded you all those years until you caught him red-handed in the Red Xmas felt suit, made you feel foolish, I bet. But you didn't feel defeated, socked. No, no... You still had some dignity in tact and could get away with "I knew it" retort. Not do with the M.S. Syndrome, I tell you.   This is where the Missing Sock reigns supreme. Doing the laundry is already a chore even if you have an automatic machine and a tumble drier. Knowing you are going to come off second best because of the missing sock, is enough to drive you beserk .   I have tried all the tricks in the book to outfox the Missing Sock.   I accused the sock owners of carelessness,...

One of the stalls If ever you want to spend a morning enjoying the madding crowd, you have to visit Claremont CBD on a Saturday morning. Try not to combine your outing with any major mission like paying bills or compulsory retail visits. You need all your senses to be uncluttered and receptive to the array of sights and sounds of all things human and manmade. The walkway hugging Cavendish Mall is lined with interesting stalls that look more upmarket than your everyday flea market stall. The cosmopolitan feel of the area adds its own dynamic. Somehow it seemed that the whole of Africa was rotating through the area. The array of languages and the rainbow masses created the energy and the vibrancy in the air. I felt like a tourist in my own country, minus the expensive camera though. Taxi guard jumping out of the moving taxi Do make your way to the Main Road as well, just to study the traffic movements for a while. The haphazard movement of the buses, taxis, cars and trucks i...

Marlon and Firzaana, St John's volunteers on duty at Kirstenbosch Gardens. After meeting Firzaana and Marlon, two St. John's volunteers at Kirstenbosch gardens, I decided to google St John to read about the organisation and its mission statement. Right there in the first few lines, St Johns prides itself on its reputation as having dedicated volunteers. Well, we met two of the organisation's volunteers by chance and what has been our experience? We want to agree that this is true, based on our exchange with Marlon and Firzaana.   Yes, we can attest to the wonderful, caring service we received from Firzaana and Marlon. After enjoying ourselves at the Freshlyground sunset concert, we had to trek to our car about 300 meters from the concert lawn zone. Desiree, my eldest sister, kitted in beautiful shoes,but unsuitable for this kind of walking, ditched her red wedge-heeled contraptions. What was a nice showpiece, became like an albatross. So there we were- Desiree, Sasha and I...

Let me share the story behind the scenes that led to the launch of my "Learning Together" Facebook page this weekend. I am not that new to using various social media to complement my communication in my personal and professional life.  I host one blog - this one- and that is just about what I can cope with and which I enjoy thoroughly. This blog is meant to cover all my ramblings in my various spaces. If you are a regular reader, then you will know by now that the posts give you a snapshot of just about anything.  So, the blog serves as my outlet and it provides entertainment, a reflective space or learning nuggets for both the readers and me.  Now here is the rub. I am in the education sector and often I find interesting websites, blogs or articles I would like to share with the teacher fraternity I serve.  My dilemma was: if I place all the links on my blog, it may lose its three dimensional flavour. Judging by the popularity of posts that  are predominantly a...

Our prefect corps The needlework class While I was ironing linen this morning ( and cursing this boring task), my mind drifted back to the days of our Needlework class and our teacher, Ms Roeloff. That was one lady we never messed with. In fact, we were terrified of her and her eyes that bored into you. Her petite frame belied her thunderous, firm voice and her solid gait. She reminded me of Shakspeare's lover in " My mistress's eyes are nothing like the sun.' You could not describe her well-coiffured hair as 'wires' but she definitely ' walked (thumped) on the ground'. I suppose if Shrek was around in my day, I think they would have been a perfect match. Once we were inside the needlework classroom, you would make sure your spine is erect, your head well positioned on your shoulders and your eyes receptive to the greeting. Of course, you would already have ensured your shoes are clean and your fingernails are cut short and minus nail varni...

My Dad and me Our family took photos wherever we went as well. When we used to go on tour with my dad, we would take tons of photos of every conceivable scene. Every time we stopped to eat, we  would snap away. Many photos showed the same food and the coke and you could only distinguish the difference because of the changing roadside benches or the different angle of the red Corona in the picture. At one point, my dad just growled that we must stop this nonsense of taking pictures whenever he stops to "vriet" ( eat). That word signalled his irritation and we would then slink away with camera, giggling behind a tree or crouch behind the car, mock -coughing at the reprimand. Clowning was the name of the game. Of course, all the private pictures we took of us smoking or doing something weird, were hastily removed from the pack of pictures before giving them for parent scrutiny. Snapshots of memories made lovingly I am glad for this picture-taking tradition. Creat...

The setting Here at camp at Bergriver, we fill our nights with games such as dominoes – better known as “Dumminoes or Dummies” on the Cape Flats where this game is well loved. There is something mysterious about the game of dominoes which reminds me of the shipwrecked boys of the novel, “Lord of the flies” by William Golding. While these rectangular blocks of pipped ivory lay in their box, their regal appearance appeals. However, when these dominoes are placed on the game board or table, all hell breaks loose, just like the innocent boys who transform into wild animals in Golding’s novel.   Chilled campers morph into game ragers. You see the pent up aggression in their taut bodies, their alert, darting eyes and the incessant war talk that emerge. Teams huddle and the air is filled with excitement. There is only one agenda: outsmart your opponents by whatever means, strike and clinch the champion title for the night. On your marks... set... The game begins. The dominoes are s...

  We decided to have a bush experience in the West Coast National Park. We booked for an overnight at the Duinepos self-catering chalets in the West Coast National Park. These chalets with their earthy colors mirror the various colors of the abundant plant species on the west coast. The chalets are spacious and beautifully equipped with all the modern trappings - perfect for city dwellers who want to have a bush experience without roughing it. Once we had settled in, we went on our nature drive through the park. On our way to our car, Basil encountered a mole snake, sunning in the short pathway. Fortunately, I was last in the queue and missed seeing our weekend neighbour slithering into the greenery after its human encounter! Of course, I moaned (not convincingly though), that I had missed a photo shoot moment. Our drive was a feast for the eyes. There is a kaleidoscope of vistas in the West Coast National Park. There are rolling plains of fynbos against a backdr...

Christo connecting his cellphone to the speaker I am really chuffed with myself because I am only on the periphery of the Lost Generation - the adults in this modern world. Many of us are light years away from using social media platforms to improve our quality of life. Just talk to grownups about whatsapp, bbm, facebook and twitter, for example. Some will tell you that social media are a waste of time, too many criminals are out there and many marriages have broken up because of facebook or the like. Some of the social platforms like bbm and whatsapp are often merely used to convey crisp 'don't forget to buy the bread' variety. Time wasters, that's what these apps are, we state with such assertiveness that we think we have shared a groundbreaking discovery. We use social media in the family to have real and real time conversations Now, don't misunderstand me. I think we are fully aware of the dangers of cyber sphere and we need to raise awareness of th...

On my way to work, I was listening to Aden Thomas on Heart 104.9's Breakfast show. Aden and Julian were having great fun reminiscing about the jobs they had as youngsters. The listeners who phoned in to relate their 'horror' stories had me laughing out loud at times. I liked the story of the listener who told us about her first job at the Mount Nelson washing glasses all the time. That was her only duty - washing glasses upon glasses. The listener said that when she received her one and only tip of R100 on a day, she gave up her day job immediately. Working at Paroda Clothing factory Of course, this conversation triggered  my memory of my stint at the clothing ( underwear) factory, Paroda, in Lansdowne when I was in first year at varsity. My mom was a machinist for years at this factory and well-liked by many of her fellow workers because she was also their shop steward. I remember begging my mom to ask the manager if I could work there at the end of the year. Finally, ...

Finally, we pulled off our Sauls Family reunion on Heritage Day this year. There we were , the Sauls descendants of Maamie and Paapie Sauls, aka Hendrina and Andrew ( or is it Andries) Sauls. Our only surviving aunt, Aunty Henna, was our guest of honour. Aunty Henna kept the tradition alive by opening our event with a prayer, a bible reading and the singing of a chorus. Then Hilary led the war cry. Give us an "S", she bellowed and we followed enthusiastically. When we had completed our war cry, the hall was on fire. We are the Sauls Family! Sauls Family Branch Members with the vegetables symbolising our rich heritage Blast from the past We had an awesome time together and the young ones thoroughly enjoyed the information about their great, great grandfather and grandmother. We hear that Paapie had 5 children from his first marriage and then he married my grandmother, Hendrina Alexander and they had 7 children. My dad, Peter, was the youngest and he was know...