Thursday 13 October 2011

The scent of desert roses

"Pristine" is the word I would use to describe the life we live in the Karoo. Actually it's the word my mother used. "You and Peter live such pristine lives at Langbaken", she said to me during one of our long telephone conversations. Well, she didn't say it, she shouted it. Loudly. Which is what you have to do in order to be heard over the static interference, and crackling of our antiquated, farm party line. Casual chatting on the phone with one's mother is not something easy to do where we live. For starters, the line is mostly "besig", with  boere vrouens, either swopping jam recipes, or listening in to the neighbour on the phone to his bank manager. Nothing like a little entertainment while you wait for your turn to use the phone! Pity my Afrikaans is so bad...

I choose to take time out to smell the roses. It's one of the most luxurious choices we have in the Karoo: To take time out, between making cheese, butter and yogurt. Time out between feeding the husband, the child, the dogs, the cats, the doves, the guinea pigs, the kapokkies, the ducks, and the pig. Feeding the pets is a job I could probably deligate, but I always say it's what gets me up in the mornings. At 6.30 am precisely every morning the birds and animals congregate, either on my bed, (cats and dogs) or outside my bedroom window. They all shout at once; clukking,crowing, cooing, quacking, squeaking and grunting, until I haul myself out of bed to feed them all. I do it with a happy heart. I've always loved God's creatures. Honestly, I love this place. Yes, coming here has been a good move. Madam Brattax

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