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Monthly Archives: October 2013

Dog tired

rest

Resting after a morning of digging potatoes

Ok, so she was chasing crows while I dealt with the spuds

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Posted by on October 28, 2013 in dogs, Farming, pets

 

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Dog tired

rest

Resting after a morning of digging potatoes

Ok, so she was chasing crows while I dealt with the spuds

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Posted by on October 28, 2013 in Farming, pets

 

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Sombre tints

light dark

Every life has dark tracts and long stretches of sombre tint, and no representation is true to fact which dips its pencil only in light, and flings no shadows on the canvas.

~ Alexander MacLaren

 
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Posted by on October 27, 2013 in art, life, thought

 

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A wanderer’s prayer

I have a vast playlist that I put onto random, so I never know what type of music will come up next while I’m working. There’s nothing like a random upbeat song to perk you up when you’d normally click on a sad song or the penny-drop moment when an inspirational song plays and gives you food for thought you weren’t aiming for. Just as I was coming in to have some lunch, this song came up. It’s in Afrikaans, so I’ve written out the lyrics (hopefully correctly!) and translated them to the best of my ability, keeping in mind that poetry doesn’t always lend itself to translation.

I want to dedicate this to my dearest friend and fellow ‘swerwer’, Felicity. It would have been your birthday today. Amanda Strydom reminds me so much of you. You were there alongside me for much of that path I was on and knew my dragons. I miss you.

Pelgrimsgebed by Amanda Strydom

vader god, u ken my naam
my binnegoed en my buite staan
my grootpraat en my klein verdriet
my vashou aan alles wat verskiet
u ken my vrese en my hoop
die pad wat ek so kaalvoet loop
die pad het u lankal berei
u maak die pad gelyk vir my

alle pelgrims keer weer huis toe
elke swerwer kom weer tuis
ek verdwaal steeds op die groot pad
soekend na u bordinghuis

moeder god u ken my waan
my ego en my regopstaan
die drake waarteen ek bly en veg
u wys my altyd weer die weg
u het my met u lug geseen
die lug stroei ek oor ieder een
net u weet hoe my toekoms lyk
ek het niks, u maak my ryk

alle pelgrims keer weer huis toe
elke swerwer kom weer tuis
ek verdwaal steeds op die groot pad
soekend na u bordinghuis

alle pelgrims keer weer huis toe
elke swerwer kom weer tuis
ek verdwaal steeds op die groot pad
soekend na u bordinghuis

father god, you know my name
my inner self and my outward stance
my big talk and my little grief
my clinging to all that fades
you know my fears and my hopes
the path i walk barefoot
this path you prepared long ago
you smooth this path for me

all pilgrims head home again
each wanderer returns home
i’m still lost on the great path
looking for your boarding house 

mother god you know my delusions
my ego and my standing tall
the dragons that i stay and fight
you always show me the way again
you blessed me with your light
this light i spread to everyone
you know what my future holds
i have nothing, you make me rich

all pilgrims head home again
each wanderer returns home
i’m still lost on the great path
looking for your boarding house

all pilgrims head home again
each wanderer returns home
i’m still lost on the great path
looking for your boarding house

 
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Posted by on October 25, 2013 in music

 

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10p

10p

One of my most precious possessions is a 10p coin minted in 1962. It’s not a special coin in itself. It’s just an ordinary 10p coin, but to me, it means the world.

Jim, my hero-worshipped grandfather, and I were walking along Rink Street, probably heading for Lilwills, the bakery that made the best egg sandwiches I have ever had. They also made the best cheese and tomato sandwiches, now that I think about it. I was about 6 then and, as was my habit, was walking with my nose to the ground. I like to think it was so that I could spot coins, but it was probably out of a fear of tripping over a crack in the pavement. I was just that kind of kid. On this occasion, though, I did spot a coin, much bigger than the coins I was familiar with. Pounds and pence had been out of South Africa for some years by then.

Jim told me all about the pence. He was Scottish, you see and knew about these things. To me, that was the most exciting of all… a coin from ‘his world’! The fact that angels leave coins for people to find was even more special. We took the coin home and Jim put it on a chain for me. This chain is very long by my adult standards, so it must have hung at my knees back then, which is probably why I never wore it, but I treasured it. As an adult, I wear it a lot. It reminds me of Jim and makes me feel he’s still watching out for me.

It’s funny that… that I feel he’s watching out for me. Someone mentioned once that I had an angel watching out for me. I was going through a really rough time. It was about then that I had a dream that mixed Jim up with a lion and words of courage. Still, it was, to me, just a dream with a message. I thought no more of it. Not long after, here in Ireland, I found a shiny new 10c piece lying smack dab in the centre of a doorway. Still, I didn’t think much of it, as someone could have dropped the coin. When I found another one, also new and shiny and 10c, I started thinking it was odd, but what made it far more unusual was that this one was smack dab in the centre of the doorway of a chicken shed! Not the sort of place one would usually drop a coin. Ok, I was paying attention by then. I found 4 more coins. All of them, without fail, bright shiny new 10c pieces and all lying in the centre of doorways. This was in the space of a couple of months. Too much coincidence? I’d say. So don’t mind me if I believe my beloved Jim is watching over me and holding my hand when times get a little rough. I still have all those coins. Perhaps one day, I’ll put them on a bracelet to match my necklace.

 
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Posted by on October 23, 2013 in jim, memories

 

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Well, stone the crows!

crowdamage 1Wish I had photos of the crows in the field, but they’re not terribly sociable
unless they’re laughing at me from the treetops…
so a photo of the damage to the potatoes will have to do.

It’s not for nothing that I’ve had the song, “Three black crows” by Blackmore’s Night going through my head all morning.

 

I was headed out to the sheds when I saw a field of black where the potato harvest was waiting. I have to say, I love crows. I love when they sit in the trees and craw at me as I go past, as though they’re sharing a really funny joke. As pretty as the sight is, that does not mean I like seeing them all over the grain or potatoes. Crows like sharing. They’ll dig up the potatoes close to the surface, peck randomly at the potato, then, in their generosity, leave the remains of the potato for us. I’ve tried to tell them that their notion of generosity isn’t working, but to no avail.

I was going to put out stakes with ribbons of plastic into the fields and, with that in mind, I was scouting through the sheds. In my hunt, I found the recycling bin… Beer Cans! So we have stakes, a bit of twine and beer cans. I reckon that makes this the most kitsch potato field around!

crowdamage 2

Recycling at its best!

 

 
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Posted by on October 22, 2013 in Farming, Ireland

 

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Magic

magic in the air

There’s magic in the air as the sun bestows its final blessing on the day

(and no, I don’t know what the little white blip in the red circle is)

 
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Posted by on October 21, 2013 in miracle, Nature

 

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