14 hours ago
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Two friends of mine, hardly blood brothers,
have this in common: they both lost their mothers
to heaven or a better man at the tender age of four...
the same age as Beatrice when they met us.
Like all my friends thay brought her treats,
teased her sweetly or applauded her feats
so that I thought, how good - they are healed -
they are here with us grown ups on the other side.
Until I noticed how when Beatrice cried
the great racking sobs of a child who is tired,
or defeated, or strung out like straining wire,
these friends followed when I carried her to bed,
stayed for the story, the caressing of the head,
waited for the bottle, the curtains drawn across
on a room full of children and their irreparable loss.
From I Flying
'You'll never find it.', I told Mr Nielson better known as Sid, somewhat wistfully.
Mr Nielson had just returned from a business trip, and was more then a little weary after a long flight, when he discovered he had left his jacket in a trolley at the airport.
Not an expensive jacket you understand, but a favourite one. Just the perfect weight for a cool afternoon ride on Mr Nielson's Harley!
'I was thinking when I looked at the cleaner in the carpark, that she looked so forlorn I should give her a big tip, but then you called and I got distracted, and got into my car without thinking.', he told me seriously.
And before I knew it, Nr Nielson had resolved to make the fifteen minute drive back to the airport to retrieve his jacket.
Ridiculous! It's an airport for G-d's sake! It's late at night. It's Africa...
Of course, he was back less then an hour later with his favourite jacket, and some delicious treats from the Engen store!
And Priscilla the cleaning lady got the tip that was intended for her.
'That's why I left my jacket there,' Mr Nielson enlightened me, 'because Priscilla needed that money tonight'.
In a perfect world...
Don't you love people who true to their word, just go ahead and get things done!
I met the lovely Bridget at Embroidery class.
She sat on the sofa in Lara's study week to week producing one glorious creation after another.
I desperately coveted the bag she had just completed.
And now I can have one!
And so can you...
A few short weeks after my having met her, Bridget Henderson that marvelous girl, went off to start her own business.
And now I have serendipitously found it, and can't wait to get that bag.
Find Bridget here, and get yours too.
Steele and I woke up bright and early, and zoomed up the road on the scooter to the cheer on the marauding hordes!
More then 35 000 riders braving the city streets for over a hundred km's in the Cape Argus Cycle Race.
But we only had eyes for Mr Nielson better known as Sid!
Suddenly there he was, that splendid male speciman!
Careering up the street like it was a Sunday stroll.
Not that he didn't welcome a little help from his boy...
Till next year then Mr Nielson!
Skye came for a visit.
She was feeling a little tired, being one of only two doctors in a ward of sixty!
Working 36 hour shifts. Is that even legal?
So we took her away...
And could not believe our luck when we arrived at India House in Bainskloof.
Surely the most beautiful mountain hideaway ever.
India House is built of mountain stones from the land which surrounds it.
Land that is as it meant to be, untainted and wild where nothing but the flow of the river, and the sigh of wind through wild grass can be heard.
A place full of treasures without and within.
I found these in some of the bedrooms!
What delight to recognise them, sitting around like visiting eccentrics.
Of course the owners left a trail to the London shop, and who can blame them!
Even the bathrooms were a sumptious treat.
Nothing to do but sleep, eat, read and play.
And bond bond bond.......................