Another birthday celebration

 Good morning, dear Blogger friends.

Some of you may remember that when I celebrated my birthday last year - the BIG SEVEN OH - I had a week of parties, dinners, breakfasts and outings. So, when the 13th of February arrived this year, I thought, oh well, this will just be another birthday. Nothing more.

This was further than the truth than ever!

From daybreak on Tuesday, I was inundated with messages on my WhatsApp and phone calls from various friends and family. Thank you to dear Penny, Snap that blog, for your wishes. 

As I walked into Ron's office at the farm, she wished me and handed me a gift - a fragrant linen spray. 

Later, on the way to the bookkeepers for the farm and Weigh-Less that afternoon, I first stopped off at the Waffle Hut. There I was greeted by friends from church who meet regularly every week for coffee. I was spoiled with beautiful gifts of fresh nuts;  snack packs of dried fruit; handcream and designer nougat beautifully wrapped. 

When I arrived at my Weigh-Less group, several members arrived with gift bags of spoils: bath salts and a loofah; a set of body butters and a trail pack of fruit n nut snacks; bath oil and handcream; a beautiful red candle in a jar (perfect a day before Valentines Day) and a pack of dried kiwi fruit which was delicious.

That evening Steve and Estelle (I worked in Steve's art shop for two years before Covid enforced closure) took me to dinner at a restaurant at the foothills of mountains. 

Dinner with friends with the sun setting over the peaks

When I walked into my little cottage at the farm later that evening, I realized I had not been home for long enough to check emails. I sat down at my laptop and checked my inbox.

There, in between my accommodation booking reminders and other emails, was a BEAUTIFUL birthday card from Weigh-Less Head Office management and staff. 

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Birthday card from Weigh-Less HO

All in all a wonderful 71st birthday!

MAY YOU ALL ENJOY A WONDERFUL WEEK AHEAD! 

The flight to Europe

 Good morning, dear Blogger friends. Yesterday I posted about the start of our trip to Spain.
Between us in South Africa and our first stopover in Europe, we had a 12-hour flight. 

I hadn't been out of the country (or off the ground) since 2015, so it was with some trepidation that I faced this trip. However, as you can see from the photo of me and Celia on the KLM flight, each passenger had a TV screen. This was my salvation. After dinner, Celia popped a sleeping tablet, donned her eye mask and leaned back on her curved travel pillow and slept. 

I plugged in the earphones which the flight attendant had given us with our sleeping rugs and started scrolling through the movie options. I like romantic comedy; I like family focused movies; I like feel-good movies; I like chick flicks. I binge-watched movies from 11pm until 3am when I decided it was prudent to turn off the bright screen as everyone around me was asleep.

Now, before you ask, what about avoiding DVT (deep veined thrombosis); I never sat still for long. Our seat was the fourth row from the back where the toilets were situated. Further back from this was an open space before the galley from which the air hostesses served our meals.  At regular intervals, I got up and walked to the rear of the plane. There I would pace up and down in the open space; flex my left knee backwards, gently bend the right knee and stretch my back muscles by peering through the low porthole at the vast dark sky below. 

Half an hour before the plane was due to land in Amsterdam, the head flight attendant came to my seat to tell me that an official with a wheelchair, would meet me as I left the aircraft.

A friendly young Dutch lady (whom, when I asked, told me her name was Eva) wheeled me through the tunnels to the arrivals hall with Celia trotting alongside.  Here she handed us over to another friendly young Dutch lady, named Famke (yes, I asked after introducing myself and Celia to her!)  who helped us onto a eight-seater electric car. 

After taking the first (of many) photos to mark every experience of our holiday, the young lady set off with us across the vast Schiphol airport

As we whizzed from one vast hall into the next; through arcades lined with shops and restaurants, I remarked to Celia that we would have been severely challenged to find our way around IF I had two good legs. On crutches, this would have been a nightmare. 

We finally stopped in the boarding lounge. Famke asked Celia for our passports and air tickets. While we waited, she checked us in; handed over our boarding passes and showed us a coffee shop where we could wait for our flight to Spain.  

Before we let her go, I asked Famke if she understood, when Celia and I spoke Afrikaans. She replied in the negative. I told her that although we couldn't speak Dutch, we could understand almost all that we had heard on the airplane and on the airport.  At that moment a young lady walked past wheeling a trolley. Famke called to her colleague who passed her two small, wrapped packages, who, in turn, handed us each one, saying, try these...

Our introduction this national treat! A stroopwafel is two waffle-like wafers sandwiched together with caramel syrup. They were crisp, sticky and absolutely delicious!

Although it was a six hour wait, by the time we had settled in a booth with a cup of coffee, we had just under four hours till take off. 

In retrospect, while reminiscing on our Schiphol experience, I realized that we had not seen any males driving the electric cars. In fact, we didn't see many men in a work capacity at all. The jobs were being executed solely by young Dutch women and the system ran like clockwork.  

By late afternoon, we boarded the KLM flight and were on our way to Spain! 

Landing in Malaga, once we'd disembarked, a man with wheelchair stopped me and gestured for to sit in it. He parked the chair (with me) against the wall and strode off across the vast hall. Celia and I watched him disappearing into the distance... 

After waiting a minute and then another, I took my crutches off my lap, hoisted myself onto my feet and told Celia we would walk to the luggage carousal. (I'm not sure whether the wheelchair assistant ever went back to find me...)   We collected our cases and walked to the exit where my sister and BIL were waiting. 

As we saw Rose and Pete, I raised my crutches in greeting  and together Celia and I shouted: Africa has arrived!

What a reunion: Rose and I last saw each other in 2005 when I visited her in the UK. This was the first time Celia (who was exhausted - see her expression!) met my beautiful sister and BIL.

Rose drove us to Fiengerello, where they lived

Along the way we stopped. Pete bought water for me and Rose and for him and Celia, Coca Cola

We had ARRIVED!

More to follow...

A birthday gift...

 Good morning, dear Blogger friends. Although I'd known about this before Christmas, I kept it under wraps until I had confirmed the finer details with my generous benefactors.

In December last year, my sister, Rose and BIL, Pete offered me a trip to Spain, flight and all expenses paid, for my 70th. Not only that: knowing that I was arranging my birthday celebrations, Rose deposited a substantial amount of money into my bank account which helped towards the two parties I had. 

My beautiful sister, Rose 

I was 15 months old when Rose was born. And since that day, she and I have been as close as close can be. Even though for the past 23 years we have lived on different continents, with technology we still remain in contact on a bi-weekly basis. 

And... over the past six years that I've been forging a new life on my own, I always had the spiritual, emotional, and when I desperately needed it for surgery, financial support, from Rose and Pete. 

Early in March, I phoned Rose and together we decided on a date for me to visit. The departure date was to be 8th May. 

Mere South Africans mortals such as we are, need a Schengen Visa to visit Europe. Obtaining this is easier said than done! I applied online and was duly given an appointment in Durban on a specified date at an appointed time. There was a dire warning on the online application, that if I was late for the appointment, I would be turned away and have to start the whole process over again.  . 

Once again, in my trusty little car, and a file bulging with information on the passenger seat, I ventured onto the N3 and headed for the Spanish Embassy in the city center.  Here I need to interject I ALWAYS use GPS directions. This day I was directed to the correct street but in front of a Primary School. Starting my car again, I drove around the block only to be directed to the same address. Eventually I drove straight over a traffic light intersection where a young Indian gentleman was rattling a paper cup, begging for change. I stopped and said I would give him something if he showed me where the Schengen Visa offices were. Beckoning, he ran in front of me up the street and stopped at a parking bay. I parked and lo and behold: the Shengen Visa application offices were on my left. I tipped my helper handsomely and suggested that instead of begging, he should channel his energy into learning a skill, such as becoming a guide in the city! 

Only now did I think about my appointment and when I checked my watch, I saw I was 20 minutes late! Nevertheless, I intended to use my "vintage lady" guile and gain sympathy to keep my appointment! As I entered the small office a man and woman were deep in conversation with an efficient-looking clerk. I sat down as unobtrusively as possible and listened to the interchange. The gentleman, who seemed to be a businessman, was talking on behalf of the lady, who was obviously in his employ. 

After several minutes of dealing with this couple, the clerk suddenly looked up and asked me if I was there for an appointment. I said yes, to which she apologized profusely for having kept me waiting. 

Mmmm.

Eventually the customers ahead of me were done and it was my turn. Still believing I'd been waiting; the clerk was most helpful. My forms were all in order; she took two photos with a Canon camera (remove earrings, glasses off, no smiling, please) and asked for my passport. After tapping my credit card on the card machine. she said my passport would be delivered to me (I stipulated my farm domicile) within 15 business days. There was no guarantee that the visa would be approved, and the cost would remain the same! 

I've applied for this visa before and was quite positive all would be in order. 

Elated at having completed the application process, in the lift down to the ground floor, I snapped a photo to commemorate the moment. 

This was Friday, the 31st of March. On Tuesday, the 18th of April, the courier arrived on the farm with a plastic envelope for Jo Hedges. Gavin, my neighbor, met the driver in the yard and as I was unable to walk**up there in a hurry, he signed for me and brought me my parcel. 

With my heart in my mouth, I opened the envelope, extracted my passport and flipped to the back page...

What a relief to have had my visa approved! 

(**see next post)

Travel and training

💥💬 Good evening, dear Blogger friends. Thank you for your kind concern for Skabby. He has improved quite a bit. However, I was away from home for four days. Although Thandi used the medical spray and powder on his wounds; Ronnie and John, my neighbors kept a close watch on his condition, I am sure he suffers from separation anxiety. I could see that he had scratched the one area badly again. And being home with him last night, it already improved. 

The reason for my trip away from home was to travel to the city of Pietermaritzburg to recruit Weigh-Less Group Leaders which had emerged from my Virtual Weigh-Less Group over the past year. 

What a challenge and what great excitement! I am a Weigh-Less Group Leader myself. The Chairman of Weigh-Less had offered me a Team Leader position in the company, but I prefer to remain a Group Leader. The co

For the first time in 12 months, I DROVE down the National Road, N3. A terribly dangerous freeway. It is bumper to bumper huge trucks; and being the lifeline between Johannesburg and Durban, our harbor city on the Indian Ocean, has hundreds of sedans, pickup trucks, mini buses and more traveling this route. 

But...

I, a real country bumpkin, completed the journey safely and managed to do what I set out to do in Pietermaritzburg.

I first collected my Group Leader, Dalene from Howick and we travelled to Pietermaritzburg together.

I started training Janda, Carey and Dalene from 9am; we broke for a salad lunch; continued afterwards and completed training at 3pm

Dalene and I travelled back to Howick (30km up the hill!) and I launched her with her first meeting at 5.30pm

I had medical appointments for my annual checkups, on Thursday. I stayed with Grant's aunt, Gill who knows everything that has happened to me in the past five years. She accompanied me to the appointments and afterwards we spent the morning at the shopping mall.

On Saturday I travelled back to Pietermaritzburg to launch Janda's first meeting. We were thrilled that the Chairman and founder of Weigh-Less, Mary Holroyd attended this meeting. 

The new Group Leader, Janda, successfully delivered her first message with Mary Holroyd looking on

I arrived home on the farm at 2pm on Saturday. 

ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL! 

HAPPY SUNDAY TO YOU ALL! 

Who to ask?

Good morning, dear Blogger friends. I recently discovered the real name of Agony Aunt, Anne Landers was Eppie Lederer.   I grew up reading Anne Landers advice to people who asked for it. 

My friend, Brian, who replaced my ceiling last month, calls his repair business "Ask Brian".

Mmm, I find that many a time, when people need something done, they say: "Ask Jo." In the case of Georgie being rescued by my neighbor, when she brought it home, she and her husband stood at the gate of their large property, behind which their 16 dogs were baying fit to deafen humans, they knew they couldn't keep Georgie. They looked at each other and in one voice said: Ask Jo.

Last month, early one morning, I looked out of the same glass door which Georgie scales in frustration and saw my neighbor standing there. Opening up she said she had a problem and a needed a favor. Her husband had taken her dad and several old gents fishing in Zululand. He happened to look at the vehicle license and noticed it should have been renewed in April this year.  He obviously said... ask Jo! LOL

She gave me the proof of residence letter, a license renewal form and a wad of cash. I told her I would sort it out. 

I was attending a ladies' breakfast with friends from our Taigalates (our three-tier discipline) class that morning. I enjoyed a lovely breakfast with the ladies, and then drove to Estcourt to renew the license.

As I posted in April, when I applied for my driver's license, any service pertaining to bureaucracy - in any country in general and in Africa in particular - can take hours to be completed. 

This morning however, when I arrived at the traffic department, I was the only person needing a vehicle license renewal. I explained that I was doing this job for my neighbor who was several hundred kilometers away. The helpful clerk at reception completed the blue renewal form for me and then asked if Mr .. was available to sign the form. I reiterated that the owner was faaaaar away and that was why I am renewing his vehicle licence for him. The clerk asked me so how I will get the form signed by the owner. I suggested he turns his face away; I swung the form around and scribbled a signature which could have been anything! 

I handed this same clerk the receipt for my personal driver's license which I had applied for early in April. He said he'd check if it had arrived. 

At the cash office, and I slid the forms in under the glass partition. Once the calculations had been done, the cash I had in hand was not enough. Fortunately, we are able to pay via credit card which is what I did. My neighbor would (and did) reimburse me once he returned from his fishing trip. 

As soon as I had the disc, I took a photo and sent it to the neighbor. If the traffic officer stopped him, he could at least produce proof that his vehicle license HAD been renewed. 

The helpful clerk was waiting in an adjacent ante room where he had my new driver's license card. He asked me to sign for it and I slid the new card into my purse. 

My new driving license card

For those of you who remember the long wait I had when I applied for the above, I had to have an eye test and subsequently was prescribed driving glasses. 

My prescription glasses to be worn when I drive

My dear friend, Sandra (Madsnapper) introduced me to Lunapic many years ago. This morning I decided to play with it again.

HAPPY TUESDAY TO YOU ALL!

At last

 Good morning dear Blogger friends.  Over the past four years that I've been on the farm, Angus and Amanda have visited at least, once a year.

The first time (June 2019), they parked their caravan between my cottage and Gavin and Janine's house fence. In September of that year, after I'd had surgery, they came down again. This time they stayed in the guest wing of Ron and John's farm house; Ronnie enjoying my grandchildren who were in the spare room off their bedroom! I was not allowed to drive so Amanda drove me and Thandi to The Bunker where we prepared for guests arriving for the September school holidays. 

During all their visits, Angus would have his toolbox and repair anything and everything that I needed fixed. 

 Shortly after Covid restrictions were lifted slightly,  in August 2020, they camped at Dragon Peaks in the foothills of the majestic Cathkin peak and Champagne Castle.  

Last year at the end of October, Amanda's dad passed away after contracting Covid. I went up to my old home town of Marquard and spent four days with my sister-in-law, Celia and "our" children. 

Therefore, Angus and Amanda's next visit to me, was at the end of January. (See my Monday's post) 

Among the many tasks I asked him to do for me, I wanted him to fix this bathroom caddy above my bath. I had bought this about two years ago and this seemed a good time for it to be used! 

What a pleasure not to have bottles and tubes on the window sill! 

HAPPY WEDNESDAY TO YOU ALL ! 

Serendipity or coincidence

serendipity

/ˌsɛr(ə)nˈdɪpɪti/

Learn to pronounce

noun

1. the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.

   "a fortunate stroke of serendipity"

coincidence

/kəʊˈɪnsɪd(ə)ns/

Learn to pronounce

noun

1. 1.

   a remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances without apparent causal connection.

   "it was a coincidence that she was wearing a jersey like Laura's"

While browsing through my archives on Saturday, I came across photos of a road trip on 12 July 2016. This was no ordinary road trip. It was a journey undertaken between our home in Marquard in the Free State and Cape Town on the Southernmost tip of Africa. 1,167km on the National Freeway, the N1. In 48 hours turnaround. 

Our friend, Rudi had traveled up to Marquard from the Western Cape, earlier that week. Grant and Rudi had a mine business deal in Cape Town and decided to travel down in our car, stay one night with friends in Bellville and return the next day. 

As you do.

Not. 

It's a loooong way to Cape Town and normal people normally did the trip over two or three days. 

We used our car (seen here below)  

Rina and I standing in front of  Grant's car which he took great care of 

Grant was very particular about all his vehicles and didn't relish any marks or scratches on the car or motorbike. 

A week before we did the road trip, I had to collect [Grant's] chronic medication from our local clinic. I popped in there mid-afternoon as the queues are much shorter at this time of the day. Back in the car, as I reversed, the afternoon sun blinded me quite a bit. I turned and drove forward and seeing a friend driving into the parking lot, I smiled and waved. 

And heard a loud scraping sound...

Ergh. Those rims on the wheels (see photo above) are low and had caught the pavement kerb as I, half blinded, and waving didn't watch what I was doing! 

I drove straight to Rina's house in the retirement center and asked her to bring a black marker pen to the car. Rina, always very highly-strung, immediately got the vapors and said "Grant is going to be so mad at you!"

I said thanks for the vote of confidence but this is what I want to avoid. Still shaking and mumbling, Rina bent down and blacked the quite-significant scratch on the left rear wheel rim.

I returned home, checked the rim when I got home and was satisfied that Grant's sharp eye would not notice anything amiss. 

On the way to the Cape, I sat in the back with my laptop, in between taking photos of the passing landscape on my Canon camera.  Business was conducted, we slept over and left Cape Town early the next morning. Grant was driving. 

During the morning we stopped off at small hamlet beyond Swellendam where Bertus and Baka lived. 

Grant, Rudi and Bertus first met on the diamond mines (Oranjemund Namibia) in the nineties. In 2002 Grant employed Rudi and later Bertus to work in West Africa on the gold mines. In 2010, Grant had a project for Bertus while he ran a British plant hire company in Khartoum, Sudan. In 2012, Grant arranged with the MD of the Fluorspar mine where Grant worked in Kenya, for Bertus to spend three weeks helping with a project at the time. Here in July 2016, Grant and Rudi had successfully concluded a mine deal of safety protocols. These three musketeers come a long way and it was only fitting that while Grant and Rudi were passing, they visit Bertus. 

By 2.30 pm we reached Colesberg, where I posted about the birds we'd seen while having a bite to eat. At 3 o'clock we were ready to take on the road again, 

Then Rudi offered to drive. 

Rudi suffered from COPD, a chronic inflammatory lung disease which obstructs airflow to the lungs. Rudi was also a chain-smoker; in fact I think the cigarettes somehow helped him to breath, as crazy as that may sound. Rudi did everything in slow motion, obviously due to his condition. So while a car trip from Colesberg to Marquard should only take four hours max, this was not going to happen with Rudi behind the wheel.

The N1 between Colesberg and Bloemfontein is flat, wide, well maintained and generally not busy with traffic. But Rudi engaged top gear and drove at a sedate 90kph. Not only that. Every 25 to 30 minutes, Rudi would slow down, pull off the road and stop the car. 

Smoke break!

Grant was not a patient man. Especially not this day. I chuckled quietly to myself when I saw him grab hold of the arm rest as we pulled off for the umpteenth time. Of course, he never once said anything. 

Around 5.31pm (I know, because my camera file information gave me these details)  we stopped again and while the men stood at the car facing the veld beyond, I stood on the other side of the car and took photos. Of them and the sunset.

Rudi having a smoke, Grant beside him. Even years later I can feel Grant bristling with frustration at the delay 

To be fair to my dear husband, he and I traveled extensively. In the car and even more trips on the motorbike. He and I both decided on a time to leave and we would leave then. Along the way, mainly when on the motorbike, we'd stop and take photos; pop into farm stalls and curio shops along the way. But we always reached our destination before the sun went down.

We eventually entered Bloemfontein and Rudi pulled in at the Bloem Engen One Stop to refuel. I visited the rest room and afterwards bought a snack for each of us. It was now 10pm and there was no ready food at home. 

If we ever got there! 

From Bloemfontein to the turnoff to Winburg (a town 60km from Marquard), we still traveled on the N1. Then we turned onto the regional road and had to slow to a crawl because of the potholes. These last kilometers were a nightmare, and as I said above, Grant and I would have been home many hours before this. 

Finally we drove up the street where we had our home. Rudi used the remote which opened the gate. Both Eddie and Skabby came bounding onto the driveway in front of the car. Rudi (saying afterwards he was trying to avoid the dogs) turned sharply, too close to the gate post...

...and heard a loud scraping noise. 

As Rudi parked the car on our patio, both front doors flew open, both men jumped out and went to assess the damage. 

Rudi had scraped the left real wheel rim! 

Grant was telling Rudi, "Not too bad; don't worry, Mate"; I unobtrusively took my luggage, greeted the excited dogs and went indoors. 

To bed.

Next morning while walking the dogs on the golf course, I phoned Rina. When I told her what had happened, she burst out laughing  saying I can thank my lucky stars Rudi is so slow! 

Rudi passed away in October 2017. Grant at the end of November 2017.  Bertus passed away in March 2018.  These three intripids are managing earthmoving companies in the sky. 

None the wiser!