Wearing my heart on my sleeve- the story continues…
Category: Personal Essays
Wearing my heart on my sleeve – my life (so far) through what I wore
Like all magical stories, it all started with a treasure chest. When I was very small, 5 or 6 I think, my father made a little wooden chest for me carved out with my initials ‘AKO’ highlighted in black lacquer on the lid. I kept it at the foot of my little pink wooden bed, stuffed full of bits and bobs for playing dressing-up. A special favourite was this silver tulle dress which transformed me into an enchantress. Here is a photo of me posing around in it while my friends Kathy and Reinette wait for me to get on with it!
Continue reading “Wearing my heart on my sleeve – my life (so far) through what I wore”A movable feast
In January this year we went on a road trip, crossing the Western Cape through the Karoo to the hinterland of the Eastern Cape. After fulfilling the usual family obligations, we headed for our favourite destination – Graaff-Reinet.
It is here that we feel most at home, relishing in the absolute peace of the Karoo. The weather always seems to be perfect at any time of the year, with the loveliest long, drawn-out magical evenings. The sun takes its time to set, dipping below the mountain, painting the clouds gold or pink before giving way to a long deep cobalt blue twilight that seems to last forever. And in Spring the swallows and swifts arrive, gliding and dipping above the spires of the glorious cypress trees in the gathering dusk.
Road trip turns treasure hunt
What is better than heading off down the unbeaten track, winding down the window and taking a deep breath of fresh air, mingled with traces of dust or the smells of the veld? When my partner J and I go on a road trip we love to seek out all the interesting little towns and villages and keep everything really relaxed and open ended.
Vasgevang in glas
PANNEKOEK VIR JAN & JORIE
Gepubliseer in Vrye Weekblad http://www.vryeweekblad.com in Oktober 2019
As ek dink aan oranje, dink ek aan my oranje-blanje-blou kinderdae. Die bloem van ’n lemoen. Sonsondergange en die bruin-oranje gesigte van sonneblomme.
As ek dink aan nartjies dink ek aan hoe die olie van die skil jou vingers taai maak en soms laat brand. En Jan Rabie se fel-oranje T-hemp met DJ Opperman se magiese woorde: “My nooi is in ’n nartjie” in wit hoofletters voorop en, soos hy omdraai: “My ouma in kaneel” oor die vleuel van sy skouers.
Dinner for one
Why do people pity you when you dine alone? I love taking some time just for myself yet, all too often, it becomes tainted by people’s reactions. Last time, at my favourite coffee shop, the barista even said ‘Good luck’ as I left, knowing I am usually there with a man who has a much finer appreciation for coffee than I do.
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