I Remember...

Memories:

 *Splashing in huge puddles at the side of the road as we walked home from school in spring/summer. We would yell to the passing cars to "speed up" and "splash us! splash us!" laughing madly every time we got soaked to the skin. Truly a dirty little experience and dirty little memory, but a smile drifts in...

*The smell of fresh bread baking in Grandma's kitchen was enough to make any soul salivate, with little hands and faces plastered to the oven door to watch the golden goodness rise to its full glory. Any leftover dough (and Grandma always made sure there was a little left over for her googly-eyed Grandkids) was transformed into fried treats sprinkled with sugar. We thought we had died and gone to heaven...

*Staring up into my Mother's spent face as she explained that my Father had died. Our vigil was over. This was my time to say goodbye, before life moved on. Standing at the side of the bed I stared. My five year-old brain did not have the words to say a thing. I stared and stared. Life moved on...

*Sitting in the back of a speeding big rig in nowhere Namibia wondering what had possessed me to think that hitch-hiking was okay, and safe, and a good idea? Screaming to my guardian angels to please, please, PLEASE help me out of this one. "One day I would grow up and realize that I wasn't indestructible and if I could just get this little favour and end up outside of this truck in one piece mentally and physically, I would Learn!" One scary lesson to learn from those said angels. Thank you

*Having wave after wave of the worst pain I had ever experienced slam into me. Looking up into my husband's eyes knowing that just his presence alone was enough for me to keep going. Wanting release, but not wanting to give up for me and for the baby inside of me. The blessed bundle ratcheting my pelvis into a position it felt appropriate regardless of my physiology. Knowing that I could do it, despite everything my body tried to connive me into. And doing it. Breathing with wide-open eyes as the miracle of life was bestowed upon me. A shared moment of love with this man. This man that I had walked with, talked with and now created with. We made life eternal in the form of a tiny human girl. My touch with perfection and the pristine pool of pure love.

*Opening up the newspaper and seeing my face and my name perched beside an article written by my hand. Knowing that I had received my five minutes of fame by reaching out to touch the world with a picture that I could share of me to whomever was willing to read. And knowing that people read, cared and liked what I had to offer, even going so far as a brief TV time slot. Pride and fame are mine...

*Taking my two girls by hand and walking with them into the future. Approaching the building that represents their start of tomorrow, their independence. Breathing smiles into me and my progeny. We have been one. Love binds us together. Trust must let me walk beside them for a distance

    and then wave goodbye...

School starts September.

Change comes eternal for me and you

Never stand in way

Burgers are up!

    Sunshine heralded the first picnic of the season. Rather early I'd say, but with the sunshine filling wintry eyes and warming pastie multi-layered skin it was a must. Left-over soup was less palatable with weather demanding fresh fare plucked from the garden. As nothing will grow in March mush and snow, I acquiesced  and opted for water to fill me up instead. Topped off with a cookie or two for good measure (beware those of you with peanut allergies -Peanut Butter Chocolate Chunk sated my sins). Tempting as it was to uncover tender tootsies to the air, I made do with sock-clad sandals. Aghast as I would be to see such fare in mid-summer, it pleased me on this Tuesday in early March. I banished the thoughts that more snow will undoubtedly fall before winter wearily wends its way out of existence.

   Spring is in the air! Shorts are on the runners and bicycles have been bouncing down the boulevards of my life this week. It cannot be denied. So with those uplifting thoughts, I pulled into my driveway this evening and headed straight for the barbeque. It was time. I lit a match and watched flames leap across cold, cold burners. Burning the winter winds away takes time, but I scraped off memories of chilly nights. A New Day was upon me. If I could whistle I would have been full of tunes. Alas that skill has never been fostered, so I hum te dum daaed in the waning day.

 "Sizzle, Hiss, Sizzle, spizzle, spit..."

  "Burgers are up! Grubs on for my first bbq of spring"

Girls to the right. Gents to the left

   The truck bounced along the highway, but could not succeed in bouncing the grin off my face. I had left the safe confines of my relatives and had ventured out on safari. I was headed to Botswana to explore Maun, the Okavango Delta, Moremi, Chobe National Park, and the famous Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe. No seat belts tied me down in my open air transport and I felt free and alive. My companions began chatting amongst themselves as we sped along the highway. I attempted to write about the experience, but quickly gave up as the pen sprawled illegible across the jouncing page. Instead I stowed my pen away and took in the world passing by my non-existent window. Gradually, I too was drawn into conversation. Tentative relationships sparked as we discussed where we were from and other trifling banter that crossed our midst. We were strangers thrown together by circumstance of adventure and that was all that united us at this point. Time would change that, but for now we were polite in our greetings.

   Our first stop of the day was the border. I excitedly added another stamp to my passport and gloried in being in Botswana. The landscape had been steadily getting more arid and isolated the farther we got from Johannesburg. No significant towns passed us by as we zipped across flat expanses of terrain. With the border behind us though, Karel seemed to relax into his role of tour guide. He turned in his seat to chat with us, but soon enough jumped into our world through the back window of the cab. I loved his South African accent and jovial mannerisms. His smile was infectious as he described the history of Botswana and its people. He had obviously done this many times before, as no questions stumped him despite only walking the planet for twenty some-odd years. He talked to everyone and brought us all together a little more in our adventure experience. When he climbed back into the front seat, you could feel the tension drift away behind us. The thoughts to day dream over were camping in game parks with the sounds of animals as backdrop, spying those same animals at day break and relaxing at the end of the day with a meal cooked over an open fire. Perhaps not everyone’s idea of a perfect vacation, but I was excited beyond words. This was the Africa I had envisioned through the years of my youth. Now I was here and about to immerse myself in all its offerings.

   My delighted musings slowly dissipated with the realization that we had been bouncing and bumping along for quite some time without a stop. Scanning the horizon did not materialize any towns to view and I began to squirm on my bench. The day shone hot and many had doffed layers as we streamed through the countryside. Removing a sweater did not dispel the tightening around my mid-section though. My discomfort led me to notice other's wiggles as well. I began to reach a saturation point. How was I to delicately ask for a bathroom break within a group of relative strangers, I wondered?

“Karel, when are we going to stop next?” Sue piped up.

“Yes,” I thought. Thank God!

   Disappointment wrenched my tortured bowels (recovered yet? I wondered to myself), as Karel stated that it was still a ways to our destination.

“I have to use the toilet,” Barb stated.

“I do too!” I exclaimed with hope.

   Several other murmurs of the same filtered up to the front of the cab. Karel turned around and waved his hand out the window with a huge grin.

“There is nowhere around to stop,” he said. “If you have to go, this is your water closet.”

   Desperation was amongst us and agreement went out. Masters pulled the mighty Samil to the side of the dirt road we travelled on now. As soon as it stopped people dropped from the sides with haste.

“Girls on this side,” Karel hollered out. “and gents on the other.”

   Roughing it struck home as the ladies sought out scrub brush to squat behind. Privacy and decorum departed as relief washed through our band of travelling companions. For this is what we now were. Kleenexes were shared around to those in need, with lopsided grins as thanks. We stretched legs and numb bums. Laughter aided in letting go of a few more tensions. This was Africa. This was the start of our 16-day excursion and it would surely get rougher from here. With an empty bladder, my smile returned.

   “Ok. Let’s go!” Karel yelled to our little bunch of tourists. We climbed back up a little less hastily then our descent moments before and were headed back onto the rough road again. A picnic lunch on the side of the road was soon a memory, as we set destination for Nata Lodge. Before the day was through we would have our first lesson in how to pitch a tent, our homes from now on out. We would also be instructed in checking underneath said tent for scorpions before taking it down in the morning and warned of the perils of leaving shoes outside overnight for fear of said scorpions again. Karel had a way with words and everything seemed to have dangers linked to it. I realize it was prudent to keep us all aware of the potential dangers that could befall us on this very real tour into the wilds. I also think he enjoyed the looks of trepidation that crossed his stead’s faces as he proclaimed, “Ja. Really!” Spiders, snakes, scorpions and spaghetti, all things to be feared if not respected in the proper light. We would be cooking our own meals and woe be to those who feared their turn at the potje pot. That would be another night though. Nata Lodge had most of the comforts of home, so a cold beer, hot meal and washroom were enjoyed for the night. And enjoy it we did.

Enter the Samil

   I stood on the edge of a growing group of people. Naude encouraged me to talk to someone, but I hung back not quite ready to commit myself to the adventure I had signed up for. A black and white striped truck stood central to the waiting cluster of people. Two men stowed the adventurer to be’s bags in cubbies under the seating area; one a young white man heavily tanned from many days spent in the sun and the other quiet individual, black as night. My eyes moved from these two strikingly different men to our mode of transport. The vehicle was nothing like I had ever seen let alone ridden in. My home for the next two weeks was a Samil truck or overland cruiser. I suppose it was akin to an army transport truck for human cargo. It was big. There were bench seats facing each other in the back, with nothing but air and the height of the monstrous tires to protect us. Bulging rolls at the top of the windows appeared to be flaps for protection from the elements, if necessary. While I hoped it wouldn’t be, I wondered if those plastic flaps would give any protection from the animals that the brochures promised we would spy. Not likely.

   The truck appeared to be able to hold twenty people, but thankfully there were not that many milling about. I wanted to meet people, but was not keen on being over-whelmed right off the hop. By the looks of our guide and his assistant, plus the smiles on some of the faces around me I suspected that true adventure was upon me. The group was made up of a couple in their late forties, another in their early fifties, two young women (sisters) that appeared to be in their late teens or early twenties, another couple in their twenties, a tall blonde man in his late twenties or early thirties, a single young man, a single young woman and myself. We picked up another woman in her late twenties farther down the road to complete our band of adventuresome amblers. We were a diverse group collected from Austria, Germany, South Africa, Switzerland, USA, and of course Canada. With a final farewell bade to watching friends and family we all clambered up into whichever seat took our fancy. Our guides Karel and Masters swung into the front cab and with a rumble the truck was alive. With my passport tucked close to my body and a smile playing across my lips I waved Johannesburg goodbye. The next stop, Nata Lodge, Botswana.

Butterfly kisses

Today sunshine filled my heart and I overflowed.

I needed to give back to my little ones.

I choose a piece of the summer that hints at arriving back in our world sometime soon.

We followed winged flight to water's roar

all to my girlie's delight

and to mine.

Delicate ruffles on flitting wings of fire's sky

Eyes demand attention

as they feed on nectar of summer's gold.

Around another bend your russet wings charmed me

and her also.

 Tattered souls were given time to rest,

but ours pushed on

to see a wonder of the world

in our own back yard.

Before setting sights on home

and bed

for it has been a long,

long day.