Saturday, November 22, 2008

Heritage Week Swellendam 2008

Another Heritage Week treat was the opening of the 150-year old Mayville House, bequeathed together with furniture and household goods by Nita Steyn to the Drostdy Museum in 1974. Miss Steyn had also expressed the wish that a rose garden should be established for the pleasure of visitors and residents of Swellendam and garden expert, Gwen Fagan, has designed an attractive rose garden surrounded by various flowers, shrubs and hedges. However, a basic miscalculation saw the house being restored to an unprepossessing white-washed appearance with dark green exterior woodwork. As a result of this general dissatisfaction, proper research was done and for the past five years, extensive alterations were carried out to more accurately reflect the style and atmosphere typical of a late Victorian home. The result is a truly charming affirmation of how people lived at the time and Mayville House is certain to become another landmark of importance to feature on the tourist map of Swellendam. In the speeches made to commemorate to occasion, tribute was paid to Jomien Hawenga, curator, for her input and dedication in the project.

Thursday, September 06, 2007

Wendy's Hands - Ode to Money

Like an out-of-this-world live antenna,
Wendy’s hands have the Power of Two
Giving strength to the growth of a Seedling
Or support for the life of a Shrew.

They’ve created fine art with a needle
And embroidery thread, versatile.
They also prepare tasty dishes
For which diners would struggle a mile

Her touches of cookery expert
range from Med, French Cuisine and to Thai
From a typical African Bredie
To a good old English Tea, High!

To paraphrase none other than Shakespeare:
Her fingers have helped on the path
to provide “the Balm of Hurt Muscles”
And offer a “Sore Lumbar’s Bath”

According to Bishop J. Taylor:
“The union of hands and the hearts”
means “Comfort yet seeking of comfort”
- As on cliffs or in a dense city parts.

There are many more quotes and expressions
“Friendly fingers - The comfortable smell”.
“The hand that rocks the cradle
Likely rules the world as well.”

But the quote most accurately expressing
How hands can reach speed of the light,
Is the Bible: “Whatever thy hand finds to do,
Then do it with all thy might!”

Now Wendy’s hands are incredibly rapid.
Her fingers are Lightening and Quick,
They glissade across keyboard computer -
Unerringly THAT button to pick!

With incredible skill they will target
- and sleight of her hand plays a role -
She’ll unfailingly consign all her “Money”
To the depths of Galactic Black Hole!

Sunday, September 02, 2007

Don't believe the myth perpetuated by government and the media that spring starts on 1 September - its a conspiracy! Spring starts on 15 September.

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Day Al Dente

Today I went to the dentist to deal with a nagging pain. He had warned me that there was a good scenario and a worst-case scenario. guess what, it turned out to be the worst-case scenario! Two back teeth were affected. Being conservation minded, my dentist tried to preserve the two teeth. This meant root canal on each of them. After 75 minutes of this, no luck. So it came down to extraction - yes both of them. The last time I had an extraction some years ago now it meany a visit to a macular surgeon. this time I left it to our small-town local dentist and he did a superb job. This does not mean it was comfortable. After trying the normal way he had to esort to splitting up the tooth and extracting the pieces. Of course, this had to be repeated a second time. Two and a half hours later I had to rucsh home to prepare for a Slide Show Presentation of which I'm a foundation member. I couldn't miss it. Now, here I am trying to cope with my blog. Thanks Mark for all your help. Your notes were most helpful

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Test post using mrh gmail logon

All fine!

Password test by MH

All worked fine...have "upgrade" your blog account and linked it to you gmal email address

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Fourstones

YOUNG MOUNTAIN
VIA FOURSTONES (One big, one small and two good-looking)
MONDAY 25 SEPTEMBER
One of my more pleasureable and comfy - even sybaritic - experiences of married life is to get into bed and, while quietly entering that semi-drowsy state of mind, listen to my partner read out loud whatever it is she is reading in bed at the time. Thus it was that last night, Wenzi read from Han Suyin’s “The Mountain is Young”:

“By the sea, in the plain, in the valley, people talk of mountains, raise their heads to stare at mountains, not knowing this sense of vast fate which is mountains seizing upon the horizon. Here in the mountains at last is no refuge from the overwhelming, the magnificence, the thrall they engender. One becomes lost in smallness under the wavering sky. The true Himalayas, miles above the sea, are still in the throes of creation. The mountains are young, very young, adolescently dino-saurian, terrible with ruthless youth.

“Here is laid out for man to see the turmoil of earth's change since its crust folded and twisted and thrust this corner of the world, the Central Asian plateau with Tibet and Nepal, up into heaven. We become all pettiness in the scale of the enormous upflung rock hurled skywards. Strong wind and water, ice and snow and baking sun have carved their gradual breakdowns into the shapes we see, which like evolutionary mammoths last their aeons of slow travail before vanishing into new forms.”
.
Now, I know the Himalayan range is exactly 60 million years old so it was interesting to learn that it is considered ‘Young, very young…and terrible with restless youth’… and as I slipped into dreamland, I thought to myself:

“How wonderfull! Never mind - young or old. Just think, our son has actually been there and has experienced first-hand, the feeling and sensation of being there – not insulated in a cabin or train compartment but actually walking with his own two feet and sensing for himself, with sore muscles and panting breath, the testing effects of this turmoil of earth's change. He has once again, witnessed its crust folded and twisted and thrust up into heaven in this dramatic corner of the world, Tibet and Nepal!
How true, to realise we become all pettiness in the scale of this enormous upflung rock hurled skywards.
RAYMOND E

Saturday, September 23, 2006

Between the Lines

FOURSTONES (One big, one small and two good-looking)
THURSDAY 21 SEPTEMBER
We have just heard from Hoseman at Camp 1 (6400 m). He is coming down the mountain!
- and we are mightily relieved. We immediately send SMS to his Thuraya satellite phone:

1 - Well done! You have successfully ascended 5 of the 7 highest peaks of each continent –
2 – Europe Elbrus 5642; America N Denali 6194; Antarctica Vinson 4897; Australasia Carstensz 4884; Africa Kilimanjaro 5895 –
3 – Congratulations too on displaying sense and sensibility. You still have your wits about you.

You might ask “Why are you relieved”? That would take some explaining.
Reading between the lines, I gather this is the question Hoseman has had to field most often: WHY? (Yes, even from me!) Why carry all that gear when you’ve got all those Sherpas? Why endure all that loneliness when you can join an expedition and share the experience? Why do it? Etc etc.
The fact is that this is a real, not a ‘play-play’, world. We are still reeling from the news of the untimely death of Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Man. We are mindful of another eccentric, Maurice Wilson, who (aeons ago) was compelled by a powerful urge to climb Mount Everest unaided. He was truly committed to the extent that he bought himself a little bi-plane and taught himself to fly – from England to India. After a series of daunting setbacks and adventures and accompanied by two Sherpas he eventually got to the slopes of Everest. But dedication and commitment wasn’t enough. Eventually his devoted and trusted Sherpas were obliged to turn their backs on him and Wilson died alone on Everest of starvation and cold. A year later (1935) Eric Shipton and party found his desiccated body which they wrapped in his shredded tent and buried in a deep glacier crevasse.
Such commitment and dedication does not of course always and inevitably result in failure. Master mountaineer Reinhold Messner succeeded in climbing Everest unaided in 1980 at the age of 36 years. This is the man who at 20 years had climbed most of the Dolomites and Western Alps. At 25 he summitted a 6500m peak in the Andes and a year later climbed Nanga Parbat in the Himalayas.
In this context his respected views have a pertinent relevance. During his ascent of Everest with Peter Habeler in 1978 he began to ask himself the same question “Why?” All the mountain meant to him then was a terrible compound of punishing days, metres to be climbed and stresses to be endured. It took him many years to recover and for the mountain to regain its mystery. He came up with the following views:
”Men simply cannot resist exercising and stretching to their fullest extent the faculties and aptitudes with which they each happen to be specially endowed.
One born with an aptitude for painting is dull and morose and fidgety until he can get colours and a brush into his hand and start painting.
Another is itching to make things – to use his hands and fashion wood or stone or metal into forms, which he is continually creating in his mind.
Another is ever pining to be on a public platform, swaying the audience with his oratory and playing on their feelings as on a musical instrument. Each has his own inner aptitude, which he aches to give vent to and bring into play.
And, more than this, he secretly owns within himself an exceedingly high standard – the highest standard – of what he wants to attain along his own particular line, and he is never really content in his mind and at peace with himself when he is not stretching himself out to the full towards this high pinnacle which he has set before him.”

In time, this highest standard manifests itself in Messner too – nothing less than a solo attempt on Everest! He succeeds in this quest but, rather than a ‘conqueror’, he says he was a ‘gambler who was lucky.’ Now he says: “I can’t step up my performance any more. I know that in recent years I have reached my limit several times, if not overstepped it. I would be a fool if I did not recognise this.”

Like me, Reinhold Messner enjoys his Cat Stevens:
”Miles from nowhere
Guess I’ll take my time,
Oh yeah, to reach there.
Look up at the mountain I have to climb,
Oh yeah, to reach there.
Lord my body has been a good friend,
But I won’t need it when I reach the end.

Miles from nowhere,
Not a soul in sight.
Oh yeah, but its alright.
I have my freedom,
I can make my own rules,
Oh yeah, the ones that I choose.”