Thanks to the miracle of a new hip, I'm taking walks again. And as I go, I'm greeted and greet in return. If I 'go' first, it's a toss up as to what words to use and often, I confess, I simply say 'hi'. But more and more these days I appreciate it if the person coming towards me says 'Good morning' or 'Good afternoon' or 'Good evening'. This acknowledges the moment in the day that other greetings do not, plus we know that the 'good' part referred to God's morning, afternoon or evening.
Recently it registered with me that 'hallo' was a word only invented when the telephone came into use and something was needed that was, presumably, not tied to the time of day. Well, okay. Of course I use this frequently myself, although I remember my dear mother bemoaning the fact and saying how awful she thought that was.
Nowadays we hear 'Hey'. When I was a child this word was used instead of 'What did you say', but it came with disapproval. In fact, friends would chorus in response, 'Hay, straw, donkey manure'.
How far we've strayed from a heavenly greeting!
(two posts in two days. You can tell I'm not writing.)
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Friday, July 20, 2012
A letter in the mail
Sometimes, occasionally, one can be glad that not everyone has a computer. This is purely selfish of me because it meant I received a real letter in the mail the other day. My cousin in South Africa had her laptop stolen soon after she got it and hasn't been able to replace it. So she wrote to me.
Now, she and I have been companions more or less all our lives and she's more like an older sister to me than a cousin -- especially as I never had a sister of my own. We went to the same school in Johannesburg and our paths crossed when she came over to England. Then, in the early 80s, we both returned to South Africa, this time to live in the Cape.
There it was that she opened a tea-garden called The Pink Umbrella. Yes, she can cook and cater but she's never been able to spell. In her letter she reminded me that, the first time I went into the garden and saw the menu she'd written, I pointed out 'June, you have five spelling mistakes'. She blinked at me and said with her sweet expression, 'How can you tell?'
How can you tell, indeed. Although learning difficulties and what we used to call dyslexia has been much researched over recent years, I don't think we really know these things, the whys and wherefores, even tho they tend to be explained genetically.
Anyhow, June writes so amusingly and her letters are a real treat. Last year she completed and published a truly delightful memoir/cookbook which should soon be available digitally. I'll be sure to let you know when.
Now, she and I have been companions more or less all our lives and she's more like an older sister to me than a cousin -- especially as I never had a sister of my own. We went to the same school in Johannesburg and our paths crossed when she came over to England. Then, in the early 80s, we both returned to South Africa, this time to live in the Cape.
There it was that she opened a tea-garden called The Pink Umbrella. Yes, she can cook and cater but she's never been able to spell. In her letter she reminded me that, the first time I went into the garden and saw the menu she'd written, I pointed out 'June, you have five spelling mistakes'. She blinked at me and said with her sweet expression, 'How can you tell?'
How can you tell, indeed. Although learning difficulties and what we used to call dyslexia has been much researched over recent years, I don't think we really know these things, the whys and wherefores, even tho they tend to be explained genetically.
Anyhow, June writes so amusingly and her letters are a real treat. Last year she completed and published a truly delightful memoir/cookbook which should soon be available digitally. I'll be sure to let you know when.
Friday, July 13, 2012
A small touch of magic
About seven months ago I was in South Africa. As always, I like to bring home gifts, especially as you can find so many inexpensive and quirky souvenirs made from different materials there. The inventiveness of the human mind never ceases to amaze me!
So I fell for a key ring. It was made of a polished seed pod that fitted to happily into the palm of my hand, and I thought, 'I know, this can be for my son-in-law'. Richard Heys is a struggling and talented artist who has had what I can only refer to as a moveable studio over the last few years. Each time he finds a place, he cleans it up, paints it and makes it nice so that it's a congenial space, and then, a month or three later, he has to move on.
When I gave the key ring to him I said, 'This is for your studio. Your own studio'.
He gave a little chuckle of disbelief.
And now, guess what? Next month he and our daughter will be moving to a new house, one that has a beautiful studio attached. How wonderful is that?
So I fell for a key ring. It was made of a polished seed pod that fitted to happily into the palm of my hand, and I thought, 'I know, this can be for my son-in-law'. Richard Heys is a struggling and talented artist who has had what I can only refer to as a moveable studio over the last few years. Each time he finds a place, he cleans it up, paints it and makes it nice so that it's a congenial space, and then, a month or three later, he has to move on.
When I gave the key ring to him I said, 'This is for your studio. Your own studio'.
He gave a little chuckle of disbelief.
And now, guess what? Next month he and our daughter will be moving to a new house, one that has a beautiful studio attached. How wonderful is that?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
