Today - is a GOOD day

I am not good with dates, and remembering stuff, but THIS Day - I remember. Today is my 2412Towers day! The day the Prof finally told me the truth.
People don't like me to "remember" this day, almost as though they want to shield me from it's pain, or to say - move on past it.

But this morning, having coffee with Werner, I unpicked it a bit. Here is how I see today:
Today is a day where we celebrate the TRUTH  Day! It is like an "axis" day, where my life began turning on the axis of the day, into a new life, new beginnings and a completely new world. At the time, that turning hurt so much I thought I would not make it. Looking back, I realise that the truth made me stronger, and the view I have from my new vantage point, is so beautiful.

Who could have though, 4 years ago, that today I can stand and look back, realising it is a celebration and not a total collapse? It is a day where I can say in my heart: Prof - I forgive you. You did not realise exactly what you began that day, but what you started that day gave me a new, changed life.
It is a day where I stand in thankfulness to my Lord and say: Thank You for carrying me through all these things to a better life, and finally, it is a day where I look to Werner and the children, and say thank you to them too for the love I see in their eyes. Their love is true and holds fast. Thank you!

So...despite how it looks, Today is a GOOD day!

Boys...you gotta love 'em

Long time no see, I know. But I am working on changing my life, making things tick on over... slower. More news soon. In the mean time ...my current "hot spot": BOYS.

Yesterday, murder was an option in our house. If it hadn't been for the fact that the "little darling" was writing exams (and I hoped the exam would do the job FOR me), it would have been a distinct option. However, by the time I got home, I had settled my thoughts into a steely determination. Here is what happened.

Last week, the LD (Little Darling = Arno), had to study. After numerous, countless times of saying nicely: Arno go study, and getting the reply: YES MOOOOOOOM. The reply changed after 2 days or so, becoming: but mom I know all my work - I have been through it THREE times already.

Then the weekend arrived, along with his best friend Keagan. Keagan stayed over on Friday night, and suddenly I was counting more blessings than I had considered before: Arno could have been a twin - horror.

We had giggling boys running around, bangs suddenly going off outside, boxes of matches disappearing, the cats were terrified, the birds kept flying away every time a cracker went off...you get the picture. At one such bang I marched out and threatened in an ugly voice: one more cracker - and I'll stick it were the sun don't shine. Eish - what have I become?

In between everything else, the boys wanted to shoot the air rifle, so we allowed them some limited shooting time. Werner told me to calm down - boys will be boys - leave them alone. But, every time an ominous silence sank around the house, I began holding my breath - waiting for an explosion of some sorts.

Well, all this came to an end when Keagan went home, and Arno finally sat down to study. Sunday evening he brought his books to be tested: great was my surprise, he only knew about HALF the work. This is the work he had been through THREE times , Mom??????????????
So, there began my unhappy streak with LD.

Yesterday morning, Werner came in from outside carrying his screw driver and some other tools. The boys had "borrowed" these and then left them lying carelessly around the house. Werner is so careful with his things. The evidence of the boys' total  disregard of  property was strewn around the computer room, the left overs of toys they had shot up. An aeroplane, a jewelery case, and a radio, taken apart and what was not taken apart - was shot apart.

I felt ill with anger and disgust. These things which they so casually threw away - could have rather been given to some children less fortunate than they. Werner again calmed me down with some wisdom: leave it for now... he has exams to write.

So..... the exam didn't kill him. I would have to do my own dirty work it seemed. When the LD got into the car, he got a very quiet, low voiced lecture of steely resolve. Along with the value of property lectures, the need to apologise, I added in a few more "new standards":

• I no longer want to hear a single word about GUNS, shots, calibres, or ANYTHING relating to shooting or destruction.
• I want intelligent conversation at the dinner table: try working GOOGLE,
• I do not intend to tell you again to study or clean your room
• DON'T ask or speak about the air rifle again in the foreseeable future if you value your life

I looked at this child, whom I love more dearly than my own life. Arno - you know I won't send you away to your dad - don't you? He quietly nodded his head. "Well, I may just give you to Keagan's parents, though..." , I added as an after thought. :-)

Later,  when the worst of the shock had worn off, he cleaned the kitchen, laid the dinner table, all without being asked.
Our dinner conversation was wonderful -not a single mention of guns.

It went something like this:
Arno: Mom what does IGNORANT mean.
Me: Ummm - well it means not knowing something. It has the connotation of not wanting to know, or not knowing something on purpose.

A while of silence, then :

Arno: What does BLISS mean?
Me: Bliss means wonderful, heavenly, why?
Arno: Well what does it mean when they say: Ignorance is bliss.
Me: Son, that was when I didn't know (and didn't want to know) what you were up to on Saturday: Ignorance was BLISS.

Physco CATS - we need a "cat whisperer"

O woe is me... wonder if I can start EVERY blog post that way... every one regarding the cats anyway?

Siamese... delightful, beautiful, cute, sweet... deep, dark, not too sweet, bratty, catty...and finally - SPOILT ROTTEN BRATS??????????????

Let me explain. We now have 3 cats:

•  One was rescued off the streets. No nonsense, no fuss cat
• One is a Siamese. Paid lots of money for her, looks like butter won't melt in her mouth, and until 3 weeks ago - I thought she had the sweetest disposition on earth. Often you would hear me say "Why do Siamese cats have such a bad reputation? They are too sweet and kind for words". Yeah right - I am EATING those word.
• Lastly the "wildish" kitten who arrived at our house to prove all my theories wrong

Tuppence - (street cat), took 1 or 2 peeks at kitten, and decided to go her own way.

Misty -  (Siamese), initially peeked, then got offended and disappeared for a while. After putting some thought into this matter of:  "this new cat has taken over my favourite sleeping place (Marinda's bed), en my favourite person (Marinda)," - decided to show us how disgusted she is with the whole setup, by pulling out the fur on her back!

Don't even THINK about saying "AG Shame". She is reacting like a spoilt brat. Initially we were totally freaked by this behaviour. We carted madam off to the vet who promptly put her on "anti depressants"... what the heck? Yep - apparently they can get anti depressants for cats. Now I am wondering - who thought that up? Some vet who had a "down looking" cat?

After 1 attempt to get pill down cat, I decided - NAH - we will have to live with a depressed, physco cat. So - since the Internet tells you - don't give them attention when they act badly - we ignored the fur pulling. Since this now no longer had the desired effect, Misty decide - in that case: I will sort this problem out on my own, and proceeded to the room to give kitten a huge hiding by chasing her round and round the room.

In fact - this behaviour continued until she had chased baby to hide underneath the Wendy house - where she stayed for about 3 days with no food and water, while we were away in the Drakensburg. Now you can say - Ag Shame!

Are you starting to get a sense of how mad I am with my "sweet" cat. Well then - times it by another 10.

This gives new meaning to the expression -" I will pull my hair out"!

Leave me alone, can't you see I am a book

O What have we done... woe is me....

We have been desperately trawling the pages of junk mail in search of a kitten. Our old ginger cat (who achieved momentary fame), when she was written about in Gus Silber's book- the parenting guide to PC's. I think that was the title? Anyway, allow me a minute to stray off my point. His daughter came to me for computer lessons, many moons ago. At the time he was writing his book about the parenting guide, and apparently observed Ginger meandering in on the window sill. He liked my computer school (thanks Gus!), and I was mentioned in his book along with Ginger.  As I said... momentary fame!!!

Ginger was old, and grumpy , and surprisingly - she improved with age. As the winters got colder and colder for her - we became more and more attractive - lap wise.

Sadly we had to have her put down due to old age - about 2 months ago. Since then, we have been looking for a "special" kitty. We didn't know what "special" looked like...were struggling to define it. I went from SPCA, to COSanc, and back to junkmail. Nothing. "Special" does not reside in these places, I concluded.

Last week, I half heartedly opened up the junk mail pages again. There was one ad which caught my eye. It was different from the others in that it had a pretty photo of a not so small looking kitten.
A Siamese. We have a beautiful Siamese at home already, so this was starting to feel like it might be "special".

I phoned and could hear these folk wanted a loving home for a stray kitty whom they fed.
Werner and I went to look. Kitty lived outside, with another kitty and an adult black cat who had adopted them when their mom disappeared. She was beautiful, but clearly quite wild. She allowed the family to touch her, but kept a wary eye on us.

We teetered on indecision: should we, or shouldn't we. Finally, looking at those big beautiful eyes - we decided to take a chance. The cats on this farm / plot are in danger - people poisoning them, catching them, and the folks who fed her - had clearly realised something needed to be done.

It took about an hour to catch her. It was almost as though she knew that we were there for her. She lead them a merry chase. The black cat was no help, sitting guard at the door, and warning the kittens when someone approached. Finally, heart breakingly, they caught her. I felt just awful, breaking up the threesome, but realised if we did not take this one, someone else would.

Rueful blue eyes looked back at me from the cage on the back seat of our car. Not a sound came from her.

We planned it all out before we got home. She would live in the girls' bedroom, until she adjusted.

Once we opened the cage, she flew to the windows and disappeared behind the curtains. Oh dear....what have we started?

She spent the night hiding behind the couch. She would not budge, eat or drink anything. She made no sound at all. The next morning as we moved around the room, she came out for a moment, ran to a bookshelf and "hid" in plain few. She turned her head away - and looked for all the world as though she was saying - LEAVE me alone- can't you see I am a book.

The "Popped" question

Yes, yes...some of you have been checking back, I know. Apologies.

Here is what happened....

We couldn't quite wait till Friday to "pop the question". It sort of gradually came out as the days passed, starting with little hints and finally ending in: so can we have the air rifle serviced.

In the mean time Werner had a heart attack... a month ago now. What a huge shock and trauma, it sent us reeling. He doesn't have high blood or high cholesterol and he isn't over weight. It all happened so very suddenly. We thought he had heart burn, the evening before. The next day we thought the same, except this time he was sweating and in a lot more pain than the night before. He still drove himself to the Dr, who immediately got his wife to drive Werner to the hospital. Their kindness, and the quick thinking of the Dr, probably did a lot to save Werner's life as well as minimize the damage.

After a stint in the theatre to unblock a clogged artery, Werner spent another 3 days in ICU. He was booked off work for a month. During that time, he found out where to have the air rifle serviced and took it in.

From the day Arno found this out Werner had taken the gun for servicing,  he began nagging : when do you think the gun will be ready? We finally told him - after Christmas. THAT answer kept him at bay for about 2 days...then it all started again. SIGH.

Last week Werner went back to work, and this week the gun was ready. Mmm...takes equally long to fix a heart and the spring of a rifle gun...makes you think!

In the meantime, back at the ranch...the room which Arno had been keeping squeaky clean (in order to pop the question), had slowly returned to it's former state - like water - looking for the lowest point to flow.

With renewed "Strictness" I informed my son that should he wish to shoot the air rifle, he had better get 85% on his NS test. Today he came home with a 95% thank you.

As I write, Werner and Arno are shooting at a piece of wood in the garden. Looking at those faces...you would not know which is the boy and which the man...the excitement is the same!

Popping the question

For months, actually - probably YEARS, I have been trying to get Arno to tidy up his room. The purpose behind this is actually multi-faceted. I was told that in order to ensure that he gets better marks at school, we have to teach him to "organise" his personal space. The idea is that the basis of learning, is being organised. In order to get his brain functioning in that direction, you have to teach him to organise his little world. (The other reason is simply to have a tidy house!)

Well, "organising" his little world, has turned me into something I NEVER was before... a NAG. I never, EVER nagged. Not in my previous life, and not in my "new" life. Until  now! Arno has turned me into a class 1 NAG. Every evening, before I step into his room, I start: Arnoooooo. "Yes mom, my room IS tidy", he pipes up - BEFORE the question is even asked. Every  morning I walk into his room and we have the same, tired conversation : Arno - but I thought you said your room was tidy? "I thought it was mom, I just forgot!"

I once got so angry at FORGOT that I told him I might "FORGOT" some things too, like feeding him. This produced an unsatisfactory result from him: he just giggled. Mom's don't FORGET to feed their children.

And so we battle on in the house, sometimes with more success, sometimes with less. Some motivational talks telling him how good it is for him, produce momentary spurts of enthusiasm, that last all of 12 hours.

That is.... until yesterday.

Last night I walked into his room, almost turned around and ran out to check that I was in the correct house. He had tidied up his room.... all on his own. Before I had asked. WELL!

I puzzled over this for a while. Quite a number of things have changed in our house over the last few weeks, not least of which is that Werner had a heart attack. We speeched the children about helping around the house... maybe that had some effect? Then Arno started scouts 2 weeks ago, and I keep hearing things about scouts honour, promises and so forth. Maybe he is working toward a badge or something... hey what do I really know about scouts.

Well, this morning the mystery was cleared up. In the kitchen, alone with his sister, he confided to Marinda: "On Friday, I am popping the BIG question!".

"What question", she asked.

"The air riffle", he said simply.

The AIR RIFFLE?

Well, the air riffle was given to us by my missionary friend, Jonathan. Arno loves that thing. But now the air riffle needs a service. We have been quite lax about finding someone who can service it. But above all, we have felt that Arno needs to show responsibility with his stuff, not leave it lying around, before we spend more money on it. Hmmm... something is sinking in somewhere!

So... I will plan out my answer - and wait...on Friday I get asked - THE BIG QUESTION!!!!

Reflections on thankfulness

Apologies, think I 've found out what writers block feels like!!!

This morning Marinda came into our bedroom saying, "Werner, it was so  nice to hear you pottering around the kitchen this morning, making mom coffee".

THAT was one very loaded statement. You see, Werner had a heart attack on Friday last week. We missed all the queues, and I have discovered, I had very little idea of what a heart attack might look like. We have funny ideas in life, and when you are convinced a thing will never happen to you, well... here is what THAT looks like:

He started with a feeling of "heart burn" the evening before. After taking Rennie's antacid tablets it seemed to ease - convincing us that our diagnosis was right. When he woke with the same terrible burning sensation in his chest the next morning we thought, SIGH, more of the same. Only, this time he was sweating and pale. I briefly wondered if I should drive him to the Dr, but he easily persuaded me that he could manage.

By 9am the Dr phoned me from his cell. "Yvonne, nothing much to worry about, but we are quickly driving Werner to the hospital to have his heart checked out. He is taking some strain, but don't worry, we are in time".
Reeling somewhat at that information, I packed up my life at work to head to the hospital. We have been listening to an audio book whilst driving around, and one phrase kept popping into my head from the story: we never know what the day will bring.

Once at the hospital, the gravity of the situation became clear. The cardio made no bones about it - "Mr Geldenhuys, I will see you in theatre in 30 minutes". Werner was agitated, and in a massive lot of pain, totally unprepared for the thought of theatre. He had some stuff to do you know!
Before I had started to fill in the necessary paper work, the first friends began arriving at the hospital. How did they get here so fast, I wondered. At the sight of a familiar face, I burst into tears.

The day started to tilt sideways. All the unspoken plans and routines, slowly slid off the once level platform. We never know, what a day will bring, we never know how fragile and precious a life is, and we don't realise how quickly everything can change.

Werner made it through theatre, where they unblocked an artery. The blockage had been there a long time, but that, together with stress and other factors - precipitated a heart attack. We never quite realised it, although in retrospect - the doctor had hinted at it. We thought  he had angina - which is simply a pain, but not an actual heart attack. Only when the Dr came straight out on Monday and said the words, did we realise exactly what had been happening.

Werner went from theatre to ICU. There he landed by some ironic coincidence, next to a man who had seemingly lost it. The patient's plaintive cries of : Nurse, let me go, you're drowning me. Sister, why am I here, let me go... - continued for about 6 hours, despite the nurses best efforts to sedate the distraught man. Eventually they put sedatives in Werner's drip to calm him down. It was essential to keep Werner calm, in the face of his heart problems.

I really never want to buy this post card again. This one was enough experience to last me a life time.
Once Werner came home on Monday afternoon, we looked at each other with new eyes and thankful hearts: we had had yet another 2nd chance. His every smile, his every action - precious beyond words.

It is going to take a while, to adjust our thinking. It is going to take me a while to stop flapping around him, to stop listening to his breathing at night, to stop wondering if he is still sleeping when he has gone for a 4 hour nap, or if he has stopped breathing and I should have gone in to check on him...
But - it is a small price to pay, for a 2nd chance, and if that is the price - I will gladly pay it.

If ever we wondered, what our friends and support structure were worth - we found out that we had more than we could ever have thought possible. We got love, prayers, meals, lifts, smses... we were completely overwhelmed.
So, all in all, we have as always - more blessing than we can count.
Thank you dear family, thank you dear friends.

Wedding pics

Wedding day - second time round

Wedding days ... are way better 2nd time round. You are more chilled about them!
I knew I wanted it to be different, I didn't want a traditional dress, a traditional look, or traditional music.

So it was none of that...and so much more.

We decided to let all the children be bridesmaids, and page boys - or in fact - whatever title they would have liked to be called. Next, we let them choose their own wedding garb. That was huge fun. We told each of the girls - "choose whatever makes you feel like a princess- we don't care what colour that needs to be". Colour co-ordination was also off the charts. In fact - esthetically - everything clashed horribly - and was absolutely beautiful.

Ashlyn choose purple, Carissa had pink, Marinda was in a shimmery  brown, Marielle and Nicole had purple and black and I had a burnt orange outfit. It was all good. The huge smiles we got when we bought the stuff, and their smiles on the day... proved us right . I think people faff too much with weddings.

Next, we got an unconventional minister. We found him by chance. He preached on a wedding video, taken by Werner's friend. We heard the sermon, and it touched a deep chord within us. Only later would we discover why. This minister - Jaco, does weddings by trade. Now before you think that this is unromantic (as I did), think again. I half frowned at his web site, and my  heart sank - I did not want to be married by some chap doing it as a living, who just rattles the sermons off one after the other. But on closer inspection, I discovered some gold, as one so often does if you stand still to look. This man, had been through his own trials and tribulations in life, he too had been through the pain of divorce - and he spoke my and Werner's "new" language. THAT was the chord he touched within.

We discovered that he was a careful planner, that each wedding is seriously taken, each sermon, carefully considered. He brought an element into the service that we would not have achieved with anyone else. He brought his experience of other weddings, where other people had started over, and included their children into the service. He melted together the best of the other sermons, in a way joining us up with others, brave enough to try again.

Now a venue (unconventional - of course). Well, the garden is real pretty, especially at that time of the year....we would just need good weather. It had the benefit of not costing us a cent.

Add a whole host of friends, willing to help, and the stage was set.

A last planning detail worth a mention was my friend Janine who makes wedding cakes for a living. "Can you take a joke", she asked. "Sure", we told her. We were in for a surprise!

The week before the wedding, we were once again packing up Werner's stuff, and moving it, this time for the final time.

The 6th of September dawned clear and bright. The weekends before, all had miserable weather. But on our wedding day, the sun shone brightly.

Looking out the window, I smiled at the sight of rows of chairs on the grass. How many people can say they got married in their garden?

My darling friend Lynette did the catering with her daughter who had just qualified as chef. Janine's wedding cake arrived - joke and all: 5 little icing children falling all over the cake, and tumbling out out of nooks and crannies! I even had Carina, at my side, all the way from Cape Town. I realised afterwards , she was my unofficial matron of honor - but we weren't doing "that stuff"!

We enjoyed the day so very much. There was no stress to it. When I realized I had ordered flowers for everyone but not myself – I simply shrugged, laughed and took Werner’s hand instead. During the ceremony, Eric got bored, wondered off, fell down on the grass and proceeded to play with the insects he found there.

The whole day was simple and sweet and full of goodness.  Our most precious loved ones were there to share our day... those same people who had seen us through so many hours of grief and tears, were now part of the joy.

My days and months since then, have truly been blessed and full of sunshine. I have never known such happiness and peace.

I will publish some wedding photos...tomorrow - SARS permitting of course!

Thieves (present)

So... if you think the world is flat and I Fell off the other end of it.... you are probably right. That flat world is my work - and the end of it is SARS. O I do love to hate SARS. They provide employment for me, but Filing season is just too dreadful for words.
So - the deep ,deep pit I have fallen in to,  is called FILING SEASON.

All my creativity and time and energy have fallen in to that endless pit.

Apparently - that pit will end sometime - they tell me this weekend.

But hey - when our programs go live - we suddenly have millions of users to find the bugs that all the cute testers did not!

On to other subjects. My friend at work was smash and grabbed on her way home - after working a late shift at work. (I knew working late was bad for your health). They hit out her window, which had anti-smash and grab on it. Apparently very little effort to get through that stuff. Those folks at the window places tell you that they will need to hit your window 4 times at least to get through the glaze on the windows...well they are wrong. So - if you thought that stuff kept you safe...then you are definitely NOT right.

Keep all your possessions in the boot of your car. They may still smash and grab you - but there will be nothing to take. Rehearse through your mind how you will react in certain situations, and train your mind to think of alternatives. My friend saw this coming, and was aware throughout the ordeal. She actually stopped far back when she saw them running between the cars, and she tried to keep her car moving. The red robot eventually caught her - and she could not go through the light due to oncoming traffic. She might have been able to go through the yield road in the opposite direction, but she was just not thinking that fast.

That is why I say - try to think through situations to help you react fast if it should be necessary. Isn't it so sad, that we have to think and behave in this way.

Your thoughts about overtime please? What do you do when pressured to work extra, and everyone else does it? It really looks bad if you are the only one saying "no". Now I am saying "no" in my heart, but yes with my actions...eish.

Writing down my stories, often puts such perspective into things. I was thinking about a title for this post and it suddenly hit me like a bolt out of the blue. The theme of both my stories has a common thread. The only difference is the one's action had violence in it, the other has coercion. Both have the element of something stolen.

Getting to know one another (present)

Starting over with someone new, means that you need to get to know that person (all over again ).  You love the person - but it takes time to build a level of understanding and confidence - just like starting a new job and learning everything from scratch.

So last week, Werner and I achieved a milestone of sorts, and it almost slipped me by... but for the fact that it made me smile.

Werner loves disks... LOVES what is ON them - should I say. It doesn't matter if they contain movies, music, photos - if you have it on a disk - he loves it. On top of it being a huge passion - it is the quality of the stuff that concerns him. If it is sound, then it must be clear, balanced  (and I don't know what all else), if it is a movie - it must display just right. You can't have "viviting", jagged lines, must have good black levels.... and above ALL - no "motion blur". Huh - I hear you ask. Don't fear - before last week - I had never heard the expression before either.

We have had a gorgeous big screen job that seemed just fine to me. Hubby dear, went to buy himself a blu- ray disk. With great excitement, brought it home and zapped it up on that screen.
The whole world came to a SCREETCHING halt. This HD "Ready" screen - could not cope with the blu-ray disc - so HD "Ready" - cleary doesn't mean it is "ready". The images showed "motion blur":  when the movement on screen was too fast for the refresh rate of the screen ( Um - I think that is the reason!)

Well, he phaffed this way and that way - putting in new cables, changing settings - all to get rid of the "motion blur". Then there was the day where he disappeared from skype for a few hours. (He and I chat on skype during the day.)

When he came back I asked him - "so - do we have a new TV?" I could just "hear" the laughter coming down the computer line. "Noooo".... he said... he just went to look, but how did I know?
Yes well, I wasn't born yesterday you know. I just have this funny feeling that the "HD ready" is somehow not good enough any more.

As though to prove that he too has an uncanny ability to read me, he was watching (self same blu-ray disc) a few nights later. I was making supper, and he was left pretty much to his own devices. He must have felt a bit lonely, because before long I heard a tune I love.
Peering round the corner, I hoped to catch a peek of the show. There sat Werner, huge smile on his face, like a cat that got cream:  "I knew that would get you to come over."

As for the TV... well, anyone want to buy a HD ready plasma screen? It looks just fine to me...but has this thing called "motion blur" - which is apparently "not cool" when you love everything disky.

The scary scarecrow (present)

We have a wonderful gardener. He stayed with me, after the Prof left - lucky me. I think the Prof asked him to work for him too, but at the time Owen didn't have extra days open, and chose to stay with me instead.

He was a saving grace in this big, daunting world of taking care of the property and garden by myself. I have never needed to tell Owen what to do, he just gets on with it. When I arrive home, the whole garden has been taken care of. How he manages to do it all in one day a week, I can't understand.

He started a veggie garden for me too. His enthusiasm is infectious. I have an understanding with him now; he takes veggies as he wants for himself, leaving more than enough for us. He asks for seeds, and when I see again - we are eating fresh veggies. This year - has been a bit harder. With all the rain - we had "crop failure".

Not daunted, Owen has continued to plant into the autumn. He started up some spinach, and to his disgust, the birds began eating it. His first attempts at solving the problem, was to put up some net. This only had the effect of giving the birds some nice shade to chow in.

His next attempt had us in stitches. When we got home one evening, we found a new character had been added to the plot! Yep  - he constructed a scarecrow. Where on earth did he find all the "parts" needed for this?

Our mirth at the new resident, only increased when the birds, quite happily carried on their destructive ways, right under SCARDY's feet.

We sort of forgot about Scardy, and the weekend arrived. It was a "kiddies" weekend. Carissa and Eric grabbed their bikes from the shed, peddled up and down the driveway for a bit, and then, unsuspectingly drove round the side of the house to the back yard.
It took but a moment before there were 2 screaming children coming like banshees through the door.
"Daaaaaaaaaaaddddddddyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.......there is a SPOOK in the garden - there is a monster there..."

Ummmm - it took us quite some time to recover from laughing. We introduced them to Scardy, and he has since been given facial features by the children. They stuck some sticks into him for hair, and had some fun.

So - Owen's scarecrow doesn't do much in the way of scaring birds, but works real good on scaring kids!

And Owen? Well, he has decided that if he can't scare the birds away - perhaps he can "outplant" them. My veggie garden is now completely planted up with spinach. In his heavy accent, he says to me: let's see if the birds can eat up ALL that spinach.

The 8th of the 8th (present)

I was challenged last week by my friend Karen  from MomAgain@40  fame, to post the 8th photo from the 8th folder and tell the story. Seems that bloggers play these games! Sort of like taking a map and sticking your finger down somewhere and saying- ok that is were we will go on holiday!

But, curiosity made me go look at the 8th photo in the 8th folder - to see where my life was at that stage. Mmmm...nice surprise - life was GOOD.

I was with all my loved ones at the botanical gardens. It was 2007, and Marinda and Ashlyn's (cousin) birthday celebration. Come to think of it - it was probably Ashlyn's  celebration- and we piggy backed onto Ashlyn's party. That is more likely, since Joan is much better at arranging these things than I am.

So... ok I cheated a bit. This was something like the 10th photo. The 8th one was out of focus, and didn't tell the story as well as the 10th one did!

Here you can see Roy taking a photo of Ashlyn (what a gorgeous attitude my niece displays!), and in the background, my missionary friends Cally and her children, together with Muff and Jack , my sister and my parents.
The divorce had happened shortly before, and yet - life goes on, and was good because of my dear family and friends.

You've got mail

Sorry for the silence. What SARS calls FILING season - we know locally in our office as SILLY season. That means SARS wants a whole years worth of development done in 2 weeks, and quickly sent out before people start filing their tax returns. Well, THAT time has started - the pressure is on.

Back to the story....

The children had kept our wedding news as a huge secret. Maybe it wasn’t so much a secret as the fact that they didn’t bother to inform the Prof or Cream Puff, of our intentions of getting married. (Good for them!)


Imagine his shock, when he found out 6 weeks before the wedding date? I do wonder gleefully- (sorry) – what went through their minds?

Anyway – an email unexpectedly arrived in my in-box from the Prof:

…I believe you have gone over to a brave decision. The children tell me you are getting married to Werner? I will never do that again… nothing against Cream Puff – if you know what I mean?

I read that and thought…actually – no – I don’t know what he means. He was prepared to break up 2 marriages, cause untold hurt to 5 children … and for WHAT? For a half hearted living-in arrangement, with no security, no commitments? Sorry Prof – I don’t get it at all.

And hey…what does that say about being married to me? It says that it was the worst part of his life. So,  if that were so,  I should have been the one, not prepared to marry again.

I think I can be so thankful, that the Prof’s unfaithfulness, did not damage my views of marriage.

Thinking back – I think the Prof’s view of marriage was always broken, which lead to even more brokenness.  A bigger insight is this:  I think he lived a self-fulfilling prophesy concerning marriage!

Building photos

Front View - Before

Front View - After

Broken Windows - Before

Windows - After

Work in progress

Some general after photos

The building project

We are back with the story. Werner had asked me to marry in in April 2008 - and our wedding date had already been set - tongue in cheek - for the 6th of September that year. The children were delighted - what a blessing.

Keeping in mind that we would need extra space if we got married, we began looking at options for rooms and sleeping arrangements for all those children!

I had some outside buildings - in shocking condition. They were used as crude storage space, but the roof leaked and they smelled.

Werner, however, could see past the mess, and decided we could turn that into a computer room. That would free up one room in the house, which could be turned into a bedroom for the little ones.

So – in April we began building. I don’t think I have ever worked as hard in my life. One weekend, we had all the kids, and the next weekend – Werner would come over and build. We broke down walls, plastered walls, tore down ceiling, hacked out window putty, replaced 64 panes of cottage pain windows, put in a sliding door, pink aerolite , ended up redoing ceiling after I swore that I never wanted to see pick aerolite again! Finally – just weeks before the wedding – we painted and moved the computers in. Looking back at this beautiful room, it’s simplicity belies the amount of work it was to fix it up.

I will post a few before and after photos. It took us 7 months – and we did the majority of the work between the 2 of us. Only for laying of tiles on the floor – did we get someone in to help us.

After that room was finished – we changed the old computer room into a bedroom for the Carissa and Eric.

In the meantime, we decided to do a very simple wedding service, in my garden. How many people can say they got married in their garden?

Holiday Photos

The cat (present)

It was a kids weekend with us again. We had a pretty rough week, as my children were all out of balance. The issues of "who is driving them to school", is still high on the discussion agenda with the Prof. He finally told them, that they are not being fair, and they will understand what it is they have done to him, when they are older. (Does that sound like emotional manipulation to you too?)
Hello, what did they do to their father? I thought that shoe was on the other foot! However - this is just some trivia about the day to day trials of life.

We looked forward to the weekend, although we know - these weekends - are hard work.

Saturday morning - 6am:  Eric's little feet came pitter patter down the hall. You can hear him from the bottom of the long hallway already - because sound is echoed and magnified on those gorgeous wooden floors!  The feet start off fairly slowly - and then gain momentum and speed as his feet slap harder and harder against the floor.
Finally he is standing in front of me, and as much as I sigh and inward sigh for lost sleep, I take one look at that face, and open the bed covers. He hops in like a jack in the box man, and flings his little arms around my neck in thanks.

Briefly I wonder - can he not see the difference between me and Cream Puff in the half light of dawn, or is he a skilled manipulator that knows how much his approval will mean to me.... or perhaps - he really does like me. Dare I hope?

We start a discussion about the cat who also spends time in our bed. Since I am a morning person as well, I am the only chatting companion Eric can find at that time of the morning. We chat to and about the cat, until finally he asks me with a very serious little face: Aunty Yvonne, Where can you buy an AFRIKAANS cat.

Werner and I laughed so much that the whole household soon joined in and enjoyed the merriment of having a 5 year old , precious innocent,  who believes the cat understands his every word.

The world tilted to right, after that strange week, and we were set for enjoyment once more.

My socks ARE up! (Present)

Well, lots seems to be happening in the present. I promise to still finish the telling of my story with Werner, but need to find some writing time.

Yesterday, Arno brought his homework book to me. I had to sign a Demerit slip. Now, I pretty much think I am a cool mom - I take it in my stride - especially if HE brings them home. (I would probably drop down dead with heart failure if one of the girls brought me a slip like that!)

Anyway - my thought process is like this: Arno is doing much better at school this year, he is studying on his own, and really trying hard at the homework / keep room tidy/ study thing. So, I am very proud of him. It is hard to take the forgetfulness out of him. He "forgets" to make me sign his homework - but it was all done, he "forgets" a book at home that should have gone to school etc. He had a few other points there - mostly about work not caught up, and aside from sounding like a mommy making excuses - I really don't think the teachers considered all these things.

SO I ask these questions:

•  is he passing all his subjects - yes!
• Is he studying- yes.
• Is he a problem child in the class - No.
• Are there subjects screaming out that they need attention - no!

OK - so what is their problem and why are they wasting my time? These, you understand ,  are all my internal thought processes. I sigh and decide - I had better make an effort to support the teachers here.
ARNO, I say sternly, you have to pull up your socks.

Without a space of a second of a breath, he says:

They are up mom!

Looking down at his bare feet on the kitchen floor, I tried very, VERY hard not to laugh - but it got the better of me in the end.

Yes my boy - those are my thoughts about it too.

Divorce can't make me cry....(present)

OR can it? Almost 3 years down the line, how can one still cry over the results? Well, guess you can.... Here is my story.

The children went to the Prof this weekend. They happened to go away with his mom for the weekend. So, that was a bit sad - I missed out on kids on Mother's day. I tried hard not to be upset by it, but he did the same thing last year. Now, the Prof is VERY Stuck on dates. When it is his birthday - he wants them, when it is their birthday - he wants them , hey - if he could get away with it - he would even want them on MY birthday too.

Turns out, that when it is mother's day - it has suddenly turned into a big "commercial thing that he doesn't care for". OH? Really? Easy not to care for it - when it isn't your day.

However, I try very hard not to get caught up in tugs of war over days. So I told the children I don't mind about the day - we will have the celebration on another one. I pretty much thought that was it.

They only arrived home late last night - at 7 pm. They were tired and emotional. Turns out the Prof has been doing some more emotional manipulation on them - in order to drive them to school in the mornings. Yes, we are STILL on that track. Grrrr....
He told them - they are very ugly with him, and that he is trying so hard to be a good father. They might not see what they are doing now, but ONE DAY - when they are old and he is gone, they will be sorry for how they treated him.....

YEAH right. So.... by the time they went to bed last night - the girls were in tears - for various different things, Arno was feeling sick, and they were all at the in-between undecided phase of: well... maybe we should give dad another chance.

So, I sat down and had myself a good cry. Only THEN did I really feel sorry for myself with the idea that : - this is the only bit I had of my children - and then it was filled with crying and nonsense. I had myself  30 minutes of a "pity party", promised to console myself with a blog entry (it somehow ALWAYS helps).... and guess what - it did. Because.... I just realised - that is what "mothering" is all about. It is so much more than the sunshine and laughter, so much more than the cute things they say when they are small.... it is also about picking them up, dusting them off and saying: You know what, I can't fix your world, but I can love you anyway.

On the trail...

Yep... I did it - I went looking at all the other payment advices. My curiosity about the Prof's emotionally intelligent way of communicating his frustrations with me.... truly got the better of me.

GREAT was my dissapointment. Seems he has just discovered this functionality now. :-(

No interesting comments to report.

On other fronts - the photos are coming. Werner photographs in RAW - and the photos need to be developed. Will post them later this week..

Priceless....for everything else, there's mastercard

Well.... blogging is SO much fun when the Prof is badly behaved. The worse his behaviour - the better the post!

So, as you have gathered, he is at it again. Before I tell, I need to give you some background information.

The first part is that Arno burnt himself with boiling water last week, whilst we were on holiday. SIGH. I don't know WHERE that child came from...
It went like this. He was making himself a cup of tea. For some strange reason that maybe only boys understand, he made it by holding the tea bag in his fingers, and then pouring the water over the bag in the cup. Maybe he is working out some scientific formula, or perhaps dreaming up a new design...hey - maybe it was giving him some earth shattering insight into how gravity works or the earth spins? No??? You think not? Mmmm...me either. It boils down to (sorry - no pun intended) ... plain DUMB.
The water missed his tea bag and hit his fingers, at the full force of 100 degrees at which water boils at the coast, he pulled back his hand and in the process knocked over the cup of water which splashed against his tummy - causing a lovely blister the size of 2 R5 coins laid out next to each other. It also broke the cup... but that was minor.

The result of that unfortunate event was that Werner and I had to go out to buy stuff for burns, and that we didn't go to the beach that day. Now while we were on holiday, Cream Puff phoned diligently every evening to speak to the children. The first few conversations were great excitement over the sea and sand, but after a few days - that got a bit tame - telling the same stories over and over. But not THAT night. Now they had something "news worthy" to tell... and of course, whoever got the phone first, was going to be doing the telling.

Yup, true to form, Cream Puff phoned. Carissa got the phone first, and promptly blurted out with the news that Arno had burnt himself.
The phone worked it's way through all the children, passing over to the Prof on the other end, when my children took the phone.
We heard some more conversation going around about the burn and then they said goodbye.

It didn't occur to us to even think about it again. In fact, the next day we bandaged up Arno's burn, but when we saw him again - he was happily swimming in the sea, bandage gone, with no apparent worry over the popped blister.

Now, some drum roll music please...dum dum dum... the phone rings. The Prof on the phone to speak to the children. He gets Marinda and the conversation goes something like this:
"Marinda, I have thought about Arno's burn, and I am very unhappy. What would have been the first thing you did if Arno got burnt on the farm?"

Marinda is wracking her brains... put ice on it (no mom says - NEVER put ice on a burn wound), so now - what answer is dad after?
She decides to go the safe route: I don't know dad...

"WELL...you would have phoned your MOTHER of course."
Huh - that was not what she was expecting. Into the silence he continued:
"Yes, you would have phoned your mother first. I am very upset that you didn't phone me about this, and that I had to hear it 12 hours later...from Carissa".

Oi - there is a LOT to be said about this conversation and train of thought - but it will make the post too long! Suffice it to say - it made me realise again - how much the Prof's thought patterns - get him into awful fixes of his own making.

Once again I thought the story was at an end. Most especially because once the Prof saw the actual burn mark - he realised it was no big deal.

Now, the 2nd piece of background I need to tell, seems unrelated - but I promise... this strange story comes to 1 end.
In the settlement agreement, it says that at the end of April, the Prof's maintenance payment goes up by the amount of CPIX at the time. Now, I am no financial expert, and have even tried to find the CPIX value for last month... but to no avail. I am now happy to report to South Africa in general - that last month's CPIX was 5.1%

This is how I found out:
The prof makes his electronic payment, and sends a bank confirmation email to me. The email itself contains NO message whatsoever. The Prof made a vow about 6 months back to never write me email again (except when he really, REALLY has to). So now, when he has issue with me... how does he sort it out - WITHOUT resorting to writing email?
But of course... you write it in the payment advice sent by the bank, together with the CPIX details - all in one go!

So, this month's payment advice comes with the subtitle:
Rxxx+5.1% cpix = Rxxx and then you can't even inform me when my child gets burnt?

Priceless. But... to be honest - with my great observation skills - I almost missed it completely. I only looked closer this month because of the CPIX issue. I think I ought to print and frame that. Making some volcanoes out of mole hills, Prof?

P.S. hey - maybe I should go back and check all the other month's payment advices - wonder what treasures I missed in those? Cheers - I am hot on the heals of all the ABSA payment advices...

Blogger's Drought (Present)

Ha ha - thanks Zelda - for the title idea.

No, not having a blogging drought - but a holiday. Yep, we went to Pennington (South Coast) - with 5 kids. I am now so inordinantely proud of myself I am fairly bursting with it. Do you know what it means to take 5 kids on holiday?

Well, for starters it means you need a big enough place to go to, it means you need a big enough car and trailer to take all the stuff ... and probably most important of all....you don't order takeaways when there are 5 kids with you!!!!! Sooooooo..... you end up making food, food and more food.

We had such fantastic weather, and stayed 350 metres from the beach in a house. Every morning, when the eyes opened - the first question (times 5) was: When are we going to the beach. The second question (also times 5): what are we eating and when!

Eric (now 5 years old), could not believe all this sand was just for him to play in. On the first day as he was waiting impatiently for me to open a parcel of bucket and spade, he finally blurted out: "Hurry up Aunty Yvonne, before the sea forgets about me!"

It was tremendous fun to watch the children enjoying this adventure. For Werner and I, it was also a very big milestone. We had promised the children when we got married, that we would take them on a sea vacation. So - this was the keeping of a promise...a very nice one at that. Will post some photos tomorrow.

My father’s, girlfriend’s X-husband

Werner didn’t ask me to marry him on that first night we heard the news of his divorce. He took me out for dinner, 2 days after his birthday, and asked me quite unexpectedly while we were sitting in our favourite pub restaurant.

So, will you marry me? I sort of didn’t get it- same way as I was with the flowers. I thought he was talking about – when he one day asked me to marry him. So he had to repeat the question.
When I finally GOT it – I bubbled out – YES, Yes, yes… just in case he changed his mind before I said YES.

So, our "joking" wedding date, became a set one.

A few days after this, Arno told his class – as some of his “news” – that his mom was getting remarried.
Oh? Who is she marrying – they all wanted to know.
Thinking for a moment, he came up with this smart answer: My father’s, girlfriend’s X-husband.

Hello… they could not put those pieces together. Arno must be fibbing. So… teacher was waiting me in that afternoon as I very drove in to pick him up.

Is it true – you are marrying his father’s, girlfriend’s X husband?
Mmmm – wonder how much practice that one took the teacher to say.
And here I started to learn the fun in telling people who it was I was marrying. There is a jaw dropping moment of disbelieve, you see the wheels turning in the heads and finally the idea of: how did you manage THAT!

The Question

If ever I was concerned that the children would not accept Werner – I was worrying for nothing. Werner had said to me – that day we jokingly set up the wedding date – to leave them be- they would “come on board” in their own time.


By December 2007 (a mere 1 year from when the nonsense began), the kids were asking Werner quite openly: So… are you going to ask our mom to marry you?

How that change of heart came about – I don’t know. As I’ve said before – he grew on all of us!

But – in Dec 2007, Werner’s divorce had not come through yet. So his standard answer was – "no I can’t do that – I am still a married man."


Eventually, it was to be through Marielle that we were to hear that Werner’s divorce had gone through. There had been several times back and forth with the lawyers, settlements etc. A very stressful time. We didn’t want the Prof and Cream Puff to know any details of our relationship – in case they used it as leverage against us. As it was – they remained blissfully unaware.

So – one evening, at the end of March 2008, Marielle phoned us from her dad’s house with the famous words- "I believe Werner is divorced now."

Well, that was good news for us!

Now, the question the children asked, changed and became more demanding:
So Werner – WHEN are you going to ask our mom to marry you?

Counter Offers

The Prof and Cream Puff went looking for, and found – new jobs for themselves. To this day – we think that things got too uncomfortable for them at the university.

So, in the same month – they both left.

I think it was a relief to Werner. Suddenly, the university was his own domain again.

Together with this move, the Prof informed me that he could no longer take the children to school in the mornings. He had threatened me before – told me that if I didn’t do as he pleased – he would no longer take the children to school. This ploy at control did not work and I had coldly informed him to stop threatening me.

However, I do believe this was not intended as a threat - and was merely the result of his circumstances. I was pretty much at a loss. I asked him for suggestions to resolve the problem and here is what he came up with: He would take the children one day, I would take them one day, Cream Puff would take them one day and my folks could take them the other 2 days.

Now clearly, this was a cumbersome and non practical arrangement.

I decided to speak to the school for a possible solution. The first person I ran in to at the school – was the receptionist who works there. When I asked her if there were any lift clubs operating at the school , she tilted her head to one side and considered me for a long time.
"Now why would you need that ?" – she eventually asked me.

I explained my situation.
"Well…. I can help you "– she said.

What a heaven sent answer. She lives approx 1 km from my house, her daughter goes to Marinda’s public Afrikaans school, and she herself works at the private English school where the younger 2 were at the time. Where on earth could I find a better match?!

So, we made the arrangements. My morning problems were resolved, as well as releasing me from the Prof’s control – as it were.

I also arranged to pay Mrs G (the new lift lady) for the service – so that we had a business arrangement as opposed to a “favour”. She and I were both thrilled with this arrangement.

In fact, she has been doing this for the last 2 years, with such reliability and cheerfulness – I could not have wished for better. If I could draw cartoons – I would draw a small car with kids squashing out of every opening, bags flying in the air – and a giggle cloud following the car. Those are the impressions I have of Mrs G and her car, with all the kids.

But... it didn't take long for the Prof to work out that he was missing the children. He began asking if he could take them to school again. I felt sorry for him, but instead of just saying yes, I put it to the kids. They refused on the spot, to change this new arrangement. Mrs G is always on time and cheerful. they felt that with dad, he arrives at different times, and causes them undue stress. They unanimously decided they didn't need that in their lives.

I simply told the Prof we couldn't change the arrangement.

The nagging began, and continues until today. It gets worse at the beginning of each year and then tails off as we go along. I have steadfastly refused to change the arrangement – also not wanting to be back in the Prof’s control. I smartly told him one day – that Mrs G also needed the extra income she gets from driving the children to school. My mistake!

At the beginning of this year, the Prof went to my house early one morning- and found Mrs G picking up the children. He walked over and introduced himself (totally unnecessary – Mrs G is the secretary at the school – she knows all the parents!).

“I believe you’re just in it for the money”, he said.
Wow - did he think offending her would persuade her to his offer?
“I will offer you double, NOT to take the children to school”.

WELL….this is the lowest of the low points he could go, in my opinion. Worse than the dustbin digging!

And Mrs G? Well, she smiled at him politely, and told him to speak to me – since her arrangement is directly with me.

When I saw her later that same day, she laughingly shook her finger at me:
"You’d better be nice to me", she crooned – "I’m getting counter offers".

Magoebaskloof

Magoebaskloof... I have a strange love-affair and connection with this place. My heart seems always to yearn to go back. I think it comes from childhood memories of holidays spent there with my parents and grandparents...and the ethereal mist which surrounds that area, so many days of the year. It holds a fascination I cannot explain. I love the woodland walks, the mountains, the streams, the sounds of chain saws which echo eerily through the trees. To me, it is a fairy-tale land, literally coming out of a desert like landscape of nothingness.


It forms part of the the northern tip of the Drakensburg range, and lies not far from Tzaneen. The area is named after Chief Magoeba - who was killed by an unnamed Swazi mercenary. In order to persuade the white men (who were also hunting him), that the chief was indeed dead, they cut off his head - to prove the grime victory.


The area is rich in history and colourful characters, and has a beauty which will steal your breath away.



One of the first things I did when the Prof left, was to book a holiday for myself and the children. I wanted us to have something to look forward to, and to show the children we could still have a life of fun, without their dad. Where did we go? Of course - MAgoebaskloof.


I had booked that holiday for October 2007. I had invited my parents along as well, and since I had Garmin to point me in the right direction, I felt very confident that this was a very excellent idea.

I asked Werner to look after the house for me, and he very readily agreed.


A strange dilemma presented itself with this proposal. The children – very concerned about their space – asked Werner horrified – WHERE will you sleep – you can’t sleep in our beds? Laughing he told them he would sleep in my bed. Well, they could see the logic in that, but they swallowed hard on that piece of info.



While on holiday there, Werner was fixing up my house. He fixed things that had been broken for years – things I thought were unfixable.


Huh – turns out – he is a good fixer of things ... and people. He had done a lot of FIXING me, fixing kids, as well as fixing our old house – which had been neglected for so long. Guess you could say the kids and I had been suffering that neglect on a human level too. We all flourished under Werner's humour and way of looking at life.

The Flowers

My works colleagues had become aware that there was"something going on" in my life. Their kindly concern lead to a lot of teasing, especially when Werner arrived one day - out of the blue - to have some coffee with me.

There was a day where things just worked out so... that if I didn't know better - I would have thought that Werner and work colleagues had all concocted it together. However - much of it happened by chance.

Werner did something he has never done in his life before (and seems determined never to do again!)... he sent flowers!!!!! (O to be fair - he puts roses on my bedside table often - and since roses have a special meaning from our wedding ceremony - they are more precious than any flowers he could have sent!)

These flowers arrived just as I had stepped out of the office. Not slow on their feet, the colleagues jumped at this tremendous occasion - hi-jacked the card on the flowers, blew up some balloons and strung up the card and balloons from the ceiling.

Coming back in to the office and seeing their faces, I knew something was up - and thought- oh oh...more teasing. THEN I spotted the balloons and card, and started to turn red in the face. Very flabbergasted by all this attention - I didn't even notice the flowers standing on my desk. I just thought the friends where teasing me about Werner. It took a full 5 minutes before I noticed the flowers and began to realise this was more than a "work prank".

The coincidence of it all was the timing. The fact that I had stepped out, just as the flowers where delivered, and then coupled with the quick thinking of the work friends - they had me mighty confused as to what was happening and who had sent what!!!!

I had to endure a LOT of teasing after those flowers. They STILL bring up the fact that I did not notice the flowers first.
Looking back at the photo, I am struck again by the thoughtfulness of the composition: daffodils!!! - my favourites and granddad's favourites too!

A place of his own

At last, the townhouse which Werner’s friend had bought for him, became available. I jumped in to help him move all his stuff. It was scattered all over the show. Some furniture was stored at the university house, some at the flatlet, some at his folks.


We painted the new place, hung curtains, unpacked boxes and discovered a treasure of stuff which he had bought – some new, some came from his old life.

At that stage, the children were in the middle of exams. They elected to stay home with me – as opposed to going to the Prof, for those weekends. They battled ( and still battle) to study on the farm.

The Prof was very upset that they didn’t want to spend the weekend with him. He began phoning them – to “check up” that they were studying. Through the phoning, he became aware that Werner was in the process of moving, and that I was helping, thus leaving the children at home – alone.

The Prof took it on himself to drive himself over – claiming he missed them and wanted to see them.

The children opened the gate for him, he marched in and sat down on the veranda. They knew not to let him into the house – which was now our own, new safe place. They phoned me in such a panic – Mom – Dad is sitting on the veranda– what must we do?

They didn’t want to go outside – somehow being suspicious of his motives for being there. I told them to stay put in the house.

Then they phoned again – he wants coffee mom! The cheek!!!!

Werner and I were on our way home when the first phone calls started coming through. It was going to take me a good 20 min before we would get there. I phoned the alarm company and asked them to go to my house to remove the unwanted intruder from my property.

Chubb and I arrived at the same time. The Prof was sitting with a huge attitude on the veranda– for all the world like he owned the place. I think it was here that I learnt, that the Prof could put on the "garment of intimidation” - like you would put on a cloak. He was clearly out to pick a fight but I don’t think he had bargained on Chubb being part of the fray.

They were more than willing to help me remove him. However, in light of the backup I had in terms of Werner, and Chubb- the Prof decided of his own free will to leave.

That incident deeply distressed the children. Their safe space had been invaded. For a long time after that, they chose to come with us whenever we left the house – for fear of being intimidated by the Prof.