Goodbye, Ms Bo

Ms Bo on her "inside" perch

It's not how we'd planned it and it's not how we expected it to happen. But nature takes her own course in these things and I'm trying to be pragmatic about it - despite a sleepless, fretful night.

Yes, the inevitable has happened - Ms Bo has escaped, never to be seen again, I suspect.

Strangely, we've been saying for the last two weeks that it's probably time for us to seriously consider setting her free - that was, after all, always the intention. We were hoping to take her to the avian vet on Saturday for a check up and a final verdict on her state of well being and then we were going to open the door to her pen, one day when the Ba-Kaaka Nostra were present, and let her go.

Bo and the Ba-Kaaka Nostra a couple of weeks ago

The reality is that we could never have kept Ms Bo - she was wild from the start and intended to stay that way - a fact that became deeply apparent a couple of months back when we had painters at the house. Although they denied it, we think one of them terrorised her because since then Ms Bo's attitude to humans was one of utter panic. Guinea fowl are neurotic at the best of times, but Ms Bo took to working herself into a frenzy anytime anyone came remotely near Le Palais de Beau Bo - and she took to hiding out in the "hutch" we built on to the back of her house when anyone got to close. Once in there though she obviously felt safe, as she'd suffer having her back stroked by me on occasions and seemed to enjoy being crooned at and told she was a beautiful girl who'd grow up to be queen of all the guinea fowl...
.

Bo's first villa - Bo Vers 0.1

And although the avian vet had suggested that we could keep Bo as a pet, both we and Bo knew that Bo was a wild thing. So, as I say, the intention remained to find a suitable time, when we thought she was strong enough, and release her. But so much for the best laid plans.

Yesterday evening D took Bo her worms and for some reason didn't shut the door of the pen behind him. Although he usually shuts the door behind him, it's not necessarily a problem if he doesn't as Bo doesn't tend to make bids to escape. But this time, as he leaned underneath her to drop her mealworms in the scratching tray, she eyed the open door, whizzed over his head and was out. There was no thought of even trying to catch her - it would have been hopeless. We hoped that if we left her, she'd find herself a spot for the night, settle down and reappear in the morning. (Very often guinea fowl that have been raised by humans and then set free will be quite content to never leave the sanctuary of their garden.)

We watched nervously as Bo pootled around the garden for a few minutes - and then eyed the wall - the one over which the Ba-Kaaka Nostra fly every day. Bear in mind Ms Bo has not had much exercise at flying any great heights, but she stood there contemplating the wall and then in a flurry of wings was up and gone.

At first we thought she'd gone straight over the wall until frantic searches in the road revealed nothing - and then I spotted her shuffling on a thick gum branch some ten feet above the ground. She seemed to be settling in for the night so we left her to it. It was nearly dark and there was nothing we could do. We left the door of her pen open, put out plenty of seed and hoped for the best.

This morning there was no sign of her and although the Ba-Kaaka Nostra turned up for breakfast and although there was a juvenile guinea fowl that flew down from the very top of the tallest gum to join them, and although we hoped that it was Bo, closer inspection of the photos I shot (for confirmation) show that it was most likely not her.

Juvenile guinea fowl, almost certainly not Bo

Bo has four distinctions about her - she has two white claws, a badly damaged left nostril from constantly banging it against the wire of the pen, a deformed breast bone and very rasping voice. But she'd need to call out or one would need to get really close to be able to identify her. And the bird above's face just isn't Ms Bo's - as much as we wanted it to be.

So, we have no idea where she is and we can only hope that she will be okay. Whether she will survive or not out there on her own, who knows - but I'm not holding my breath. Her best bet would be to integrate with another group of guinea fowl - a lone guinea doesn't stand much chance - and bear in mind that Bo has never been out of our garden - has no experience of dogs and cats, let alone cars. We can only know that we did our best for her and that without us she would never have got this far. And as D says, better one day free as a lion than a lifetime penned up as a sheep. So here's hoping that whatever freedom Ms Bo is enjoying or did enjoy, it's good.

Finally the story that started here with this wee and ailing guinea fowl keet...

Bo Peep, an abandoned guinea keet, unable to fledge

Bo Peep, rescued and learning to leap

Ms Bo, munching on a snail

Ooh, bugs, yum!

...ends here with these shots taken just two days ago.

Ms Bo, a nearly fully grown guinea fowl

I'm glad I had the chance to give her one last stroke yesterday and tell her what a beautiful girl she is.

Be safe, be wild and be free, Ms Bo.

Tagged by Tessa for a Meme of the Moment

Tessa, over at Aerial Armadillo, artist extraordinaire, tagged me with the following meme. I’m generally a bit cagey about memes like this, but hey, I decided I may as well give it a go…


What are your current obsessions?

I’m not much given to obsessions – except perhaps when I’m writing...


Which item from your wardrobe do you wear most often?

Sunglasses... Jeans, cargo pants, t-shirts, loafers or trainers

Sunglasses, Cargo pants, t's and trainers

What's for dinner?

I’ve only just got past breakfast! But tonight – probably roast chicken.


Last thing you bought?

Do the groceries count? Oh yes, that aside, accommodation in Bath and changed airline tickets.

Bath
(image courtesy of wikimedia.com)

What are you listening to?

Doves cooing and the neighbour’s dog barking.


If you were a god/goddess who would you be?

Artemis. Don’t ask, it’s a long story. And I hope to evolve into Baba Yaga – or Granny Weatherwax – though I think they’re the same sort of goddess.

Granny Weatherwax, courtesy of the cover of my very battered copy of Witches Abroad

(original illustration - Josh Kirby)

Say something to the person who tagged you:

Tessa you are a wonderful artist and even though I know you miss "home", "home" shines through your work in vivid and colourful proportions. Keep rocking!


Favourite holiday spots?

The hotel pool, Mauritius... sigh...

Mauritius
Kruger National Park
Tuscany
London

The London Eye and the Houses of Parliament at dusk

Reading right now?

This Lullaby by Sarah Dessen
The New Earth by Eckart Tolle


4 words to describe yourself.

I had to ask D to answer this one, it seemed unreasonable to do otherwise. He said: “Vibrant, witty, passionate, stylish.”
I’d have probably chosen four other words like “creative, insightful, energetic, intuitive”.


Guilty pleasure?

Computer games and hot chocolate.


Who or what makes you laugh until you’re weak?

Good satire – like Pieter Dirk Uys last Thursday night. And classic, clever British sitcom

First spring thing?

Pul-lease – it’s autumn here, all I’m seeing are golden leaves – which means I need to get out there with my camera!

Autumn comes to the Buitenverwachting vineyards

Planning to travel to next?

England (London, Bath and York) and Spain – in May/June.

Staying with a friend who lives near here...
(image nicked off the 'net)

Best thing you ate or drank lately?

Large mug of hot chocolate – my own secret recipe… Shall I share it with you…?


Flower of the moment?

St Joseph’s Lillies – always. Gerberas, tulips, bunches of multicoloured roses.

St Joseph's lilly

Favourite ever film?

Stealing Beauty

(image nicked off someone else's blog...)

Care to share some wisdom?

Everything in life is about perception.
Reality is mostly illusion.
Death is not an end but a returning to the beginning
Everything is one, sharing the same universal energy. We are, in effect, all “God”.
The glass is always half full – if you choose to see it that way.
The human ego is far too dominant, inclining us to forget our true selves.
The best thing you can ever do is to look at yourself in the mirror and say “I love you”, because if you can’t love yourself you can’t really love anyone.


And in turn I'm supposed to tag a few people - so here you go, if you'd like to do this one... and anyone else who'd like to have a go, feel free!

Jane, over at Wittering On
Baino, at Baino's Banter
Laquet at Chez Laquet
Gail at Gail at the Farm
Lane at Lane's Write

Silver Phoenix by Cindy Pon

And with all things electoral behind us (the ANC did not get it's 2/3s majority but we still have no idea what we're in for and only time will tell), it's time to move on to other things. This time I'm heading in a bookish direction.


If you take a peek on my sidebar, you'll notice there's a new addition - a link to writer called Cindy Pon.

I've seen Cindy bouncing about the blogosphere, as one does, for quite some time, but never really connected. I heard that she'd had her debut novel, Silver Phoenix : Beyond the Kingdom of Xia accepted by an agent and subsequently found a publisher. I've now read several early reviews for her book - and I have to say it sounds totally bloody brilliant.

One of the blurbs for Silver Phoenix reads as follows:

On the day of her first betrothal meeting–and rejection–Ai Ling discovers a power welling deep within her. She can reach into other people’s spirits, hear their thoughts, see their dreams…and that’s just the beginning.

Ai Ling has been marked by the immortals; her destiny lies in the emperor’s palace, where a terrible evil has lived, stealing souls, for centuries. She must conquer this enemy and rescue her captive father, while mythical demons track her every step. And then she meets Chen Yong, a young man with a quest of his own, whose fate is intertwined with hers. Here is a heart-stopping, breathtaking tale for fans of action, fantasy, and romance–of anything with the making of legend.

I thought that sounded like just the sort of book I HAVE to read giving it combines two of my favourite topics - fantasy/paranormal with the orient.

And then I saw this...

And it knocked my socks off - and even more so, I've just learned, because the trailer was created by an 18 year old. Go on, watch it if you haven't - you won't, I promise, be disappointed.

I have to be honest and say that most of the book trailers I've seen have left me stone cold - most are done in such an unprofessional manner by people who really don't get the "how" of using multimedia. But this trailer for Silver Phoenix is as good as any movie trailer - and exactly what a book trailer should be. Other writers out there, take note if you're planning on doing a book trailer.

Now, I have to let you into a small secret here - posting about the Silver Phoenix is not an entirely altruistic gesture on my part. Oh no... it's all part of a grand scheme to get Cindy Pon and Silver Phoenix promoted and hey, if I'm lucky enough I stand to win a copy of the book. "Hmm," I hear you say, "why don't you just buy a copy?". Well, here's the thing, the book is not being released in South Africa any time in the near future. I can't buy it from Amazon because Amazon no longer ship here because we have such a huge problem with theft in our postal services. And the local online provider I usually use doesn't even have the book listed. Whaaaaah! Mind you, all is not lost... I am heading to northern climes next month (more on that later), if all else fails I will march into Waterstones or Borders or wherever and grab a copy of Silver Phoenix there. But this is a book I have to read - aside from the great story, a girl has to know what her competition is up to, right?!

Right, now I'm off to try and compose a haiku, over at Ello's place, where the contest to promote Cindy is being hosted. Here's hoping that I stand an even better chance of winning a copy of Silver Phoenix! Why don't you have a go too?!

Two-thirds

Well, vote counting is over and the data capturing is underway. Final election results will be announced this weekend. But at this point it seems that the ANC has received the two-thirds majority it sought to conclusively consolidate its position as the democratically elected leader of South Africa. As provisional figures currently stand, the ANC has an overwhelming 67.04 % of the vote.

There was never any question that the ANC would win this election, but there was, for the first time since 1994, some question about the percentage by which it would win. And there was some hope in certain quarters (i.e. from all the opposition parties and their supporters who deplore the greed and corruption within the ANC leadership, the loss of a moral compass, the dropped charges against Jacob Zuma, the controversial, provocative and offensive remarks from him and his cronies, the lack of action on far too many critical issues etc etc), that the ANC would not get a two thirds majority and so the way for real and positive change in South Africa could be paved.

I should add that the question of the two thirds majority is something of a moot point; while in some ways it is merely symbolic of definitive victory it also raises the spectre of power abuse - particularly given some of Jacob Zuma's recent remarks, for example, about amending the Constitution. Remarks, I might add, which change more frequently than the autumnal weather.

And this is the problem with JZ, as he is known; he speaks to his audiences in completely contradictory ways. (One might be led to think that he's merely a puppet with someone else pulling his strings...) So what he might say to a gathering in Soweto is entirely different to what he says to a gathering in Oranje. What he says to the business community and international investors is directly contrary to what he says to the people of the Amatole region in the rural Eastern Cape. And therein lies the bother - no one knows what he's going to do and which group will have the greatest effect on him. And until such time as he appoints his cabinet, we have no idea if it will be business as usual - i.e. more do nothing and more corruption - or if it will result in a radical change in economic policies that will seek to uplift the poor but which may well send international investors - and still more South Africans - running for the hills of other countries.

But this is democracy at work. This is how the people have South Africa have chosen. And one has to hope that they have chosen right - though of course what may be right for one person may not be so for the next.

But the reality is that there remains an awful lot of work to be done in South Africa, as my previous post indicated. There are still millions who live in poverty, healthcare and education are far from what they should be, housing development has lagged badly, the refugee situation, along with crime and violence, is out of control and the unemployment rate is at 40%. And in the current economic climate all this is going to be tough, if not impossible, to turn around.

At present hope runs high amongst those who voted for the ANC. But it begs the question of what happens if that hope is once more dashed. And there remains, of course, the big question of just what the ANC will do, what policies it will implement despite the multiple and often contradictory promises it has made.

So now we wait.

Zumamania

I’m feeling a wee bit stressed at the moment.

On Wednesday 22 April 2009, South Africans go to the polls in the fourth democratic elections since the country was freed from apartheid. The ANC will win and Jacob Zuma will be South Africa’s new president.

It all sounds okay so far, doesn’t it?

Okay, let me straighten the picture a bit.

Jacob Zuma has faced 783 counts of fraud, racketeering, tax evasion and corruption. These charges were all dropped earlier this month courtesy of the bungling of the prosecution process. It has been widely suggested that political pressure on the director of the National Prosecuting Authority brought about this happy outcome. Zuma was also previously acquitted of rape. In his defence at his rape trial he explained that:

“the woman who brought the complaint, a family friend less than half his age (she is 31, he is 64) who was staying in his home, had signalled that she wanted to have sex with him. How? By wearing a knee-length skirt and sitting with uncrossed legs. So what was a gentleman to do?”

Regarding the charges of corruption Zuma has declared himself innocent. The likelihood of that is slim given his co conspirator was convicted and jailed for 15 years. At trial the presiding judge, Hilary Squires, found that Zuma had a "generally corrupt relationship" with Shaik. The latter, I should add, was released earlier this year on “medical grounds”.

(I should also add that most of the leadership has been tainted by corruption but Zuma’s corruption has been the most public, for obvious reasons.)

Let me colour the picture for you a little more. Zuma’s election song and favourite chant is Umshini Wam. It means Bring Me My Machine Gun. The crowds attending his rallies love this song and they love to hear Zuma singing and dancing to it. I’ve included a YouTube clip so you can enjoy it too.

Do click on some of the links shown at the bottom of this youtube insert if you require further "entertainment" - some are a little hair-raising.

To take that up a notch, Zuma’s supporters will tell you that the machine gun song is important because:

"We all believe that we got our freedom because of the machine gun. Without those guerrillas, without those guns we wouldn't be here today talking about the government.”

That’s true enough but then add to that the call, last year, from Julius Malema, the leader of the ANC Youth League, to “take up arms and kill for Zuma” and you’ll perhaps start to get a feeling that violence is seen as a very viable means of achieving one’s ends.

I mean, let’s face it, you just have to think back to the xenophobic violence which affected Angela last year. And in doing that, I’m reminded of the remark Angela’s husband made to me about the cult of personality that is Jacob Zuma.

“People will vote for him because they believe that he will be like Mugabe. They want him to take all the farms and to chase the white people away. We tell them that’s not a good plan but they say they don’t care, that’s what they want.”

This is nothing new, whites (and yes, racism is more alive and well than it ever was) have long been told if they don’t like the way things are they can leave – and only two weeks Zuma ago announced that the only true South Africans (the white ones that is) are the Afrikaners – you know, those creators of apartheid... I suspect that leaves the rest of us booking our plane tickets for our ancestral homelands wherever they may be.

But despite all this, despite the failure of the ANC government to truly deliver, on Wednesday we will go to the ballot boxes and Zuma will be elected as our next president.

Not only is it the cult of personality at play here but the fact that the ANC is the heartland of the majority of South Africans. It’s the party that brought freedom. It’s the party that promises everything. It’s a party that is campaigning by singing Umshini Wam and dishing out free food parcels – and you have no idea how that wins votes amongst the impoverished and unemployed. The fact that, corruption aside, the ANC cannot deliver counts for nought – because people don’t see it that way. They believe the ANC when it makes promises. So there will (despite a global recession and decreasing foreign investment) be more jobs. There will (despite a desperate lack of skills –they all left courtesy of affirmative action policies) be houses for all and massive infrastructural developments. There will (despite a corrupt leadership) be less crime. There will (despite xenophobia, violent crime, and the call to take up arms against antagonists) be less violence. There will (despite Zuma publicly challenging the constitution and constitutional court judges) be greater democracy.

Hmm.


But the reality is this: for every thinking person, irrespective of colour, who sees the dangers of a Zuma leadership, there are a whole lot more who buy in to the inflated promises of a better future.

I’m reminded of a story I was told by a friend when I returned to South Africa in 1995 (one year after the country’s first democratic elections when the hopes for the Rainbow Nation were high indeed). Her char, a Xhosa woman, had come to her after the elections and asked when she was moving out of her house. “What are you talking about?” asked my friend, “I’m not moving.” “Oh yes you are,” said the woman, “I’m ready to move in so you must move out.” “I’m not going anywhere,” said my friend somewhat bemused. “But you must, the ANC told me that if we won, I would get your house. So when are you moving out?”

And this is a snapshot of the reality. Vast promises have been and continue to be made and yet the reality for the majority of South Africans is that they still live in shanty towns in abject poverty where they struggle against unemployment, crime and violence, and the ravages of AIDS, while the leadership swans around in Jags, Bentleys, Beemers and Benz’s and live in multi-million rand homes . But that doesn’t stop the majority from believing that things will change - because it will change, Jacob Zuma and his machine gun will ensure that, they believe.

Oh hope that springs eternal…

But here’s the thing. It can’t change. The skills required to create massive infrastructural projects which would create employment have left the country (courtesy of affirmative action policies). This is why each year millions of rand are returned to the treasury because the projects can’t even get off the ground. Now you tell me how you develop a country without skills? You tell me how you meet your promises when you’ve just undertaken to employ even harder hitting affirmative action policies? The ANC simply can’t, with the best will in the world and whilst adopting the policies it has, fulfill the promises it has made. But don’t try telling the majority that because they won’t believe you and will suggest that you leave. But it begs the question – what happens after another five years of unfilled promises? It remains unlikely that the majority will turn their back on the ANC; it is far more likely that they will take up their machine guns and lash out, as they did against refugees last year, in a massive spate of civil unrest. I do not relish the prospect of that day.

What I find deeply sad and ironic is that many of my friends who were not only anti apartheid activists, ANC supporters and ANC members have all left the party realizing that under the ANC government the dream for the Rainbow Nation has failed horribly. Even Nobel Laureate Desmond Tutu has descried what has become of the ANC, saying he is ashamed to see Zuma become his president. As the last moral leader of the old guard left standing, Tutu was, for his pains, roundly condemned by the ANC and its cronies.

The only thing one can hope for from this election is that for the first time since coming to power the ANC does not gain a two-thirds majority which will give it carte blanche to do as it likes, including dismantling the Constitution. And for the first time in 15 years there is a very real threat to the ANC’s stranglehold on government. The threat comes from a breakaway party the Congress of the People – COPE, and the biggest opposition party, the Democratic Alliance. It has to be hoped that between these two parties (and the other 24 contesting the elections) that while the ANC will win, it won’t be with a two-thirds majority. However, the most recent reports indicate that the ANC may yet win with a massive landslide. If that is the case, then the way is paved down a very long and slippery slope - potentially towards dictatorship. Already the national currency is slipping against the dollar.

It is impossible to do this topic justice in a single blog post as it is so multifaceted, so instead I will point you to several other articles, should you be interested.

Peter Hichens article probably provides the most comprehensive overview. While some may say it is alarmist, unbalanced and even racist, he makes very pertinent and very valid points.

Sky news provides a brief overview of the elections.

Songezo Zibi’s article provides an interesting and unique insight into the nature of our democracy and the corruption amongst our leadership.

Pearlie Joubert’s article covers the threat to the Constitution under a Zuma leadership.

Chris Moerdyk’s satirical letter to “Dear Mr President” takes a look from a different angle.

The Australian raises the concern of the likelihood of Winnie Mandikizela Mandela being given a senior cabinet post in the Zuma government. (This after having been sacked by her then husband, Nelson Mandela, for incompetence – oh, and not to mention her involvement in necklacing and kidnapping and more besides.)

You can listen to Archbishop Tutu voicing some of his concerns here.

The wikipedia article on Jacob Zuma is very comprehensive. I’ve excerpted some of his more controversial positions for your, erm, entertainment.

• It would seem that the fact that Zuma has four wives and three fiancés and 18 children is a bit of an issue for many people…
• Zuma was criticised by gay and lesbian groups after he criticised same-sex marriage at a Heritage Day celebration on 2006, saying that same-sex marriage was "a disgrace to the nation and to God": "When I was growing up, a homosexual would not have stood in front of me. I would knock him out."
• Zuma's solution to pregnancy in South African teenagers is to confiscate their babies and have them taken to colleges and "forced" (his words) to obtain degrees.
• Zuma also drew censure from religious and secular groups alike when he declared that the ANC would rule South Africa until the return of Jesus Christ, and that its continued governance was just what God wanted: “God expects us to rule this country because we are the only organisation which was blessed by pastors when it was formed. It is even blessed in Heaven. That is why we will rule until Jesus comes back. We should not allow anyone to govern our city when we are ruling the country.” (Posters at the election rally held yesterday in Johannesburg were emblazoned with “Zuma is like Jesus Christ”.)

An observation of her pain

Have you ever touched a point of pain in the world - pain so sharp, so brittle that it keeps cutting at you long after you’ve moved away from it, having somehow “burned” you with its icy intensity?

These points of pain inevitably stem from people who have been deeply hurt in their lives. Yet often they don’t acknowledge their pain and instead focus on their ego, their self, as a means of running from the pain, while their pain, in a machine gun spatter, is sprayed outward, often injuring others.

I recently met someone who was filled with pain.

I knew from the start that something was wrong when, on being introduced to me, she immediately dismissed me – by repeating everyone else’s name as she was introduced to them and taking one look at me and looking away with no mention of my name. There was something about my energy that “frightened” her. I didn’t see it as an offensive gesture or as being about me, but as the first sign of something not quite right.

As the morning progressed I listened as this woman “held court”, telling us about herself and her work. Words sprang from her mouth as though from a boiling geyser under immense pressure. She had a story to tell and, by god, we would listen!

“My work is an exploration of the free sex, sex for sale, prostitution that’s delivered to our doors each day via the newspaper. And I thought it was illegal here yet there it is, these ads in the entertainment column. “Hot young thing available, with extras. Your place or mine.” My art is my response to them. I snigger, jibe, cringe. Of course, it explores my own sexuality too, particularly given I’ve passed my own sell by date.”

Does a woman ever pass her sell by date, I wondered. A woman is so very much more than just her sexuality. And yet even as she ages, sexuality lives within a woman as part of her essence. Woman is woman is woman. How sad that this woman, who looked eternally young, was petite, attractive and vivacious, believed she was past it, no longer sexually attractive.

I listened as she dismissed or attempted to negate anything I offered to the conversation, constantly misunderstanding me in a way that was unconsciously deliberate. She had clearly taken an instant dislike to me, which was, of course, her prerogative, but which I also realised came from some place within herself that was screaming in rage and agony.

I pondered as she spoke about her creativity, her god-self and the denial of her ego. I mused as she trivialized those “modern gurus” who speak of their journeys towards healing or enlightenment through the experiences of their own pain. “They chose that pain,” she announced, “and won’t let go – I find it so draining.”

She spoke with all the right words of a person on a journey towards wholeness and enlightenment, she had the words of “spiritual speak” but there was a vast gap between her words and her reality. And it struck me too that her "spiritual speak" was very much stuck in the "vital" or physical plane.

I suppose looking at her superficially one might have seen a person who was full of herself, arrogant, opinionated – bloated with her own self importance. But those “traits” struck me as symptoms of something else.

Reaching out to touch her energy was like encountering shards of multicoloured glass – the colours invited you to touch, but the touch cut deeply. Peering beyond the surface it struck me that there was so much insecurity and so much fear - and within that fear, swimming furiously in the maelstrom, the most overwhelming pain, bundles of undealt with baggage. And she was running from it as hard and as fast as she could.

At the time I couldn’t put it all together – because part of her persona included sparkle, energy, excitement – and I like people and I like hearing their stories – and I prefer to see the best in them.

But it was later, when I sat in the peace of my home that I felt the dark sludge that had been left by the energetic encounter clawing at me. And the defining moment, the absolute recognition you might say, happened when I looked at her art on the web. In telling her own story one sees images of anger, sorrow, resentment, rage and degradation. The colours are vivid and garish, slashed and splashed across her canvas like dripping wounds. Each woman’s face depicts a hopelessness or an emptiness, or is hidden, while her womanhood is portrayed as a vivid gash.

But I owe her a debt of gratitude, because my own response to the encounter was to paint, something I’ve not done for a while, to cleanse away the pain that been projected at me. I entitled the piece Heart of Woman.

Heart of Woman

Drifting in Imagination

I haven't slept properly for two nights and feel like a crushed slug... Add to that, that the writing is happening again and I've been beavering away like a demented wee beastie. All of which means, I really have nothing terribly bright to blog about. Well, I do have, but I lack the energy to do it justice.

So instead I thought I'd just drag you into my imagination... Here's hoping you survive the experience!

Pachyderm Dreams

Heron Eclipse

Floral Notes

Buddha Dreams

Memories in Music

And now back to the tappity-tappity-tap-tap-tap and more feverish scribbling.

Sunday-Monday

It was Monday, but it felt like Sunday. It is autumn, but it feels like summer. It is a holiday - and that's what counts. All in all, a good day for a barbeque and some time spent lounging in the sun. Anyone want a glass of wine, and can I pass the salad?

Worth a slurp - chilled Porcupine Ridge sauvignon blanc.

The vineyard's website is enough to get you in the mood...

The view above my head

Yes, I know, my mother also told me not to put my feet on the table...



Don't ask me, he said he was hot...

Purple sage, hazy autumn days...

It doesn't take much to create perfect bliss...
Oh, and the book? Nation by Terry Pratchett - read it.

Backlit

The dolphin's place at the pond

So, what did you do today?

Autumn days, and... Do you remember Ms Bo?

There’s a distinct and very chilly nip in the air as though the ice goblins are out there, ready to nibble off your toesies and fingies and nosies and the tips of your ears. It does not bode well. I think, despite the fact that the sky is blue and the sun is shining, we’re in for a bitterly cold winter. The Australian Cherry tree has blossomed, messily, three times so far. It is now so heavy with cherries that I’ve had to lop off branches that were hanging down into the driveway.

An abundance of pink

There is a dense sludge of cherries all over the driveway and the garden (we have three Australian Cherry trees). The last time the trees fruited prolifically it snowed on Table Mountain – which is pretty unheard of. This time there are even more cherries. The garden critters seem to know something too. We’re getting something like 30 guinea fowl turning up for food every morning. That usually only happens in deep midwinter. I think they’re storing up. The squirrels certainly are. They’re even burying grapes…

Young squirrel getting the hang of "gardening"...

They’ve bred in hordes this year, throughout the season and there are still nursing mothers out there.

Mama Squirrel - one of many...

There are even a few less welcome visitors out there pretending to be harvest mice…

Rat tales

Everything is gathering and stockpiling for winter. I’ve never seen activity quite like it. Even the predators are more prolific and determined than ever.

Juvenile gymogene in the gum tree- I'd never seen one before...

African Goshawk - now a regular - and very determined - visitor

The Silhouetted Hunt
- goshawk chasing the doves -

There are even trees and shrubs in the garden that are bearing berries and fruits that I’ve never seen bear anything other than leaves before. I might well find that I have to go into hibernation - and knit Ms Bo a woolly scarf…

And talking of Ms Bo…

You may well remember there once was a very small and abandoned baby guinea chick who looked like this…

Ms Bo shortly after we took her in...

Well, today Ms Bo is doing just fine, thank you.

Ms Bo, this morning...

She’s grown beautifully and is about three quarters of the way to being full size. For her age, she is still undersized, but on a good diet of mealworms – we’ve found a pet shop on the other side of town that sells them in large tubs of wriggliness – she’s done well. Her love-hate relationship with us persists. Going near her cage is enough to send all of us into a frenzy of nerves – she, as she beats herself against the sides of the pen, us as we worry about the damage she’ll do herself. The other day she manage to break the tip of her beak in one of her hysterical lathers. Not that it stopped her from snarfing the worms we had brought – once she was sure we were far enough away. The strange thing is that if she gets into the covered part of her “house”, she’s perfectly happy, once she’s done hissing, to be stroked into a gentle slumber.

Ms Bo and Friends

For the most part, she’s not short of company. For the last week there’ve been something like thirty guinea fowl – including the ever-present Ba-kaaka Nostra, hanging around in the garden. And that means the lawn looks like all hell where it’s been scratched over, dug up and had roosting holes planted in it. I suppose it is, at least, well fertilized… We’re hoping in the next month or so to be able to release Ms Bo – into the company of the Ba-Kaaka – but that will depend on what the avian vet thinks.

Ms Bo's new Beau - he's a bit of a silly bird, this one...
(Note the parental disapproval...)

The Ba-Kaaka Nostra - destroying the lawn, again...