Springtime Shoe Shine

I don't know about you guys, but the change in the season inspires a change within me every year. I feel the need to rearrange my whole life - house, work, exercise regime, you name it. Its time to pack away those stuffy winter woollies, fold up the blankets, open the curtains in the spare rooms, and let the fresh spring breeze waft through the house to expel all the stagnant winter air.

Granted, the minute that one starts with this exodus, a final cold snap will smack you right in the face with a snow warning and a promise of -4 degrees Celsius on Saturday morning...just a small not-so-subtle reminder that its not quite Spring yet.

But it sure does feel like it! The last four days in the Midlands have been absolute belters with temperatures soaring above 25 degrees and jerseys being whipped off by mid morning. My arms are so stoked to finally be getting some vitamin D, I feel like running around waving them above my head whilst singing "you are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, when skies are grey!"

A new hair cut, some new shorts, and a garden full of fresh lettuces ready for those veranda evening braais...accompanied, of course, by fresh G&T's!

Bring on the loveliness!

A dangling carrot...

Wowzers...over 2000 views as of Monday 19 August. Thanks guys, glad you are all enjoying the blog!

 

However, I must admit that I am a little bit disappointed at the slow response to my fund raising efforts to save the rhino...

 

There are only two possible reasons that I could think of that could be the cause of this lack of action - one, that nobody likes me and couldn't really care; or two, that a little incentive is needed.  I know that reason number one is hardly an option as you all love me (that's why you're reading this) and you all do actually care about the situation that our rhinos are in (because honestly, what human being wouldn't!?). So, logically the cause is that you all want to know what you're going to get out of this deal - nothing for Mahala (free) right?

 

Now, I'd love to offer you really lavish, expensive gifts as this cause really does mean lot to me, but I am trying to raise money, not give it away. So the thought occurred to me that I should offer you all homemade gifts, from the heart. Before you all moan inwardly and close your viewer, hear me out. I promise I wont make you a beaded bracelet or a felt rhino broach - my idea was to offer you something that I know is a lot more meaningful and timeless.

 

Therefore, below are samples of 7 photographs that Dale and I took at the Mfolozi Park on the weekend that inspired the fund raising drive. Should you donate some of your hard earned moola to this cause, I shall, in return, send you a print of your choice (proper snail mail and all...) at my own expense. Every tiny little bit counts, so no donation is too small!

 

R0-R100   Postcard Print (Glossy/Matt)

R100-R250  A4 Print (Glossy/Matt)

R250-R500  A4 Canvas Print (21x29cm)

R500 +         A3 Canvas Print (29x42cm)

 

Is that motivation or what?! So stop poisoning yourself and the environment for one day and donate your cigarette money towards the rhinos! Get thin and beautiful and put that lunch money towards a great cause (who needs food right?!)! Instead of a new pair of jeans (which you really can do without) why not invest in saving a rhino?

 

Click here to save the rhinos now.

 

 

 

hairy legs and blossoms

I'm calling it - Spring has sprung in the Midlands.

 

The early morning nip in the air is significantly less nippy, and the sun is up earlier every day, awakening from it's Winter slumber. The grass is turning from a pale dirty cream back to a youthful optimistic green, and everything is budding. That specific smell of growth is in the air, fresh and determined. It's almost time to turn off the under-floor heating,  prune the hydrangeas (yes, very domestic, I have a home now) and dust off the veranda furniture - those fresh spring evenings spent outside, sipping on a G&T after work, are just around the corner...aaah, bliss!

 

It also means that I'm going to have to locate my razor again and sort out my gorilla legs - my husband is so happy right now I can just imagine him doing a happy dance as he reads this... My pasty pegs are also going to love some of that Spring sunshine and fresh air - they've been covered up for too long! There's nothing quite like Springtime gumboot rash from wearing shorts again...

Spring is also the time to dust off those running shoes and Mountain Bikes - to emerge from the Winter cocoon and get active again! We have a new challenge this year; Dale and I are the proud owners of two horses (check one off the bucket list), so we're going to have to get them (and us) up and running fit! At least the ground will soften with the Spring rains, so when we fall off in the training stages, we hopefully wont break any bones...fun times!

It's also that time of the year when there are little babies everywhere. Our neighbours' ewes are lambing and those things are so bloody cute you could just die looking at them. I want to steal one every time I drive past. I'm sure he wouldn't notice if one disappeared...I promise I'll give it back when its big. The Nguni cattle on his farm are also calving and they are ridiculously adorable with their patchy pelts. The paddocks are polka-dotted with new life and energy, and its so great to see everything feeling so alive. This is definitely one of my favourite seasons.

 

So, although its a couple of weeks early, I want to wish you all a happy Spring. May you also emerge from your Winter hibernation and embrace life as it blossoms and grows around you. xxxx

 

 

 

Doing nothing is as good as pulling the trigger yourself...

The start of another week, and a renewed passion. I always find that there are a lot of people who talk about doing things in life, but very few who actually follow through with their utterances.

On Friday last week I found a small duiker caught in a snare. Luckily, I got to her in time, and apart from a damaged back leg (not broken thankfully), we were able to release her safely back onto the farm.

What cowards. I abhor poachers, but especially those who use snares and traps. Suffering animals are my worst nightmare. It's utterly heart breaking to find snared animals on the farm, an occurrence that happens too frequently for my liking.

Something I feel so strongly about is the Rhino poaching in our beautiful country. If we all just sit back saying "oh that's so sad", and "I wish they would do something about that", then our lovely Rhinocerotidae are doomed. You CAN do something, and every little bit helps... Some encouragement for you today:

A Rhino's Tale
A poem by Caroline Street

I was born at  midday,
under the shady Umbrella Tree.
Filtered sunlight, like warm hay
brought  life to a newly born me.
The soft green grass,
was my cushion of welcome.

That first sweet taste
of  mother's milk,
brought strength to a frail young me.
A soft nudge from Mom,
was all the encouragement needed,
to raise me to my feet.
I was born into freedom
in the animal kingdom.

For the next few days,
life was spent in an idyllic haze
and contented closeness to my mother.
'Food on tap' and protection was my safe cover.
Her bulk, a constant warm comfort,
guardian to my fragility and innocence.

Nights were spent under the moon,
days foraging for food.
Grass and sand our daily diet,
under the sun's bright light.
An existence designed entirely for us,
glorious quiet,
…..the life of a Rhino.

A thundering explosion broke the silence,
my terror filled senses on defence.
Mom lay broken -
her lifeblood seeped into the dry, hot earth.
Mortally wounded, she moaned in agony,
the bullet that struck her had been deadly,
her cries now of sorrow and impending death.

The murderers came, black and white,
and in their guilty haste,
to prevent capture and sight,
crudely hacked off  mom's great horns -
her protection and  pride.
Amid her  struggles of protest
they did not care for her pain, only their gain.
This all took place under the Umbrella Thorn,
the place where I was born.

I, incredibly was left  unharmed,
visibly shaken with shock and horror,
I stared at the mutilated body
of my once great mother.

Caring humans came to my rescue
and put me in their care.
Hand reared and bottle-food
was my daily fare.
I grew up nourished  and strong,
and in my pride I was returned
to my natural habitat, the bushveld.

Like mother like daughter,
I was vital and strong.
My pride, my horns before me.
I made my home under the Umbrella Thorn Tree.

It was a  great day of excitement
when I found my mate,
for to live as a Rhino
I must procreate.
A calf was due to me,
days were spent in heavy pregnancy.
My life complete and happy now.
The past I finally put to rest,
with just happy thoughts of mom in my head.

My calf was born as free as me,
under the warm African sun,
in the shade of the Umbrella Thorn,
on the plains where  mother died,
the land to which the Rhino is historically tied.
A new life of hope and peace had arrived,
or was this just a wishful thought.

The remembered explosion of the gun,
in disbelief my mind was stunned.
My  newly born calf,
in her sweet innocence lay dead,
her lifeblood staining the earth red.

A second explosion shattered the air,
the bullet aimed at my head.
As I lay injured on the ground,
my horns, the poacher's prize, were hacked off.
The pain too much for my body to sustain,
death was my final  gain.

And so my species has been wiped out,
obliterated from this land.
The Rhino will no longer give birth,
no offspring will  inhabit  the earth.
Once again man's greed has prevailed,
but in the larger scheme of life
they have completely failed.

What God entrusted to man
through disrespect and greed of the land,
has been taken away
and will no longer see another day.


Click here to do something about it before it's too late.

Deviously Clever Bovines...

Cows are not as stupid as they look.

 

 

Behind this docile façade is a cunning mind.

 

Trust me - they trick you into foolishly believing that they are docile, simple creatures, whilst biding their time and hatching their plans to make your weekend down-time disappear... They KNOW when the boss is away, when its weekend, and when you are short staffed. Don't ask me how, (personally I think the egrets are in on it), but they just do.

 

They will wait until a Saturday evening at 5pm, when you're about to drive out of the gate to head home to your glass of wine and happy hubby and canines, and then they're all like "Ooo! Green grass, on the other side of the fence! That hasn't been there all week has it?! Looks yummy, lets bounce" and all 60 of them will walk over a barbed wire fence into your pasture, and you have no-one to help you put them back.

 

Devious.Little.Bastards.

 

Then they will spend the last half an hour of evening light frolicking in absolute bliss (SUCH a fun game) as pikkie over here (that would be me) curses, slips in cowpats and inevitably electrocutes herself on the electric fence, whilst trying to chase them all back through the smallest hole, waving her arms around like a lunatic, and screaming murderous threats of hamburgers and espatadas in their general direction. This usually ends with me unleashing a final deluge of expletives, throwing a few lofty rocks (which miss, of course) and storming off home to drown my frustrations - whilst our lovely busty bovines enjoy the spoils of war.

 

Cows 1, Leechie 0.

 

So, you fix the fence and retrieve all the fat, full cows the next morning (which is, of course, Sunday), reprimanding them as they march through the gate, and instructing them to stay put this time. They look at you as if to say "OK crazy lady, keep telling yourself that" and head off to munch on some grass. You think everything is fine again, and now you can enjoy the rest of your weekend. HAH! The moo-thership has other plans... True as bob, leaving dairy at 5pm, I look up to see that they are all out again. And I could swear they are laughing at me...

 

Cows 2, Leechie 0.

 

Hence, today I fixed that fence like a woman possessed. It looks like a spiderweb of impenetrability. I even tested it on my dog, and she couldn't get through it (not for lack of trying, that's for sure). After retrieving the distraught dog from the other side of the fence, I went off to gloat, walking through the herd with a spring in my step and a twinkle in my eye. "Hah! Get through that bitches!" I thought as I drove off to dairy.

I've just checked them now. They're still in their paddock. It must be my amazing fencing skills you say? Nah...its because its not the weekend, there are more than enough staff around to lend a helping hand, and the boss is back from the beach.

I told you, they're clever cows.