SOOTIES BIRTHDAY

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO SOOTIE
Today Soot is having FRESH BERG TROUT for her birthday dinner. She has turned 19 years old is nearly a fifth of a century old!

Our girl, as usual, is on the comfiest chair in the lounge, (code named 'Sootie's chair). She is having a body wash before dinner is served in front of a lovely mountain log fire.

She is an absolute love. FOREVER SOOTIE

STOCK THIEVES

I have been a bit busy the last week with various projects and surprise calls by people.
Monday and Tuesday I had to go out and cut firewood for the week; part of the fun side of living in the countryside.
And then on Wednesday we had very cold weather with the berg winds blowing cold Cape weather up from the south and covering the berg in snow. All day we could see the snow falling on the mountains, just south of us, a bitter day.
That night bought more bitterness for our two neighbours.
The farm caretaker on the north had five cattle stolen and the farmer to our south east had eleven stolen. Both these people are black people who rely on their cattle as their family wealth. A theft like this would have cleared their futures out completely. It takes years for them to accumulate their small herds. The cattle thieves are from Lesotho, which is less than twenty kilometres from here, on the other side of the mountains.
On Friday morning I had a phone call from the community watch. Cattle thieves from Lesotho have taken 156 head of stock in this area alone, since the beginning of the month. I have been asked to write an article for the newspapers that will embarrass the government. They make so many promises and do nothing. These thieves have bankrupted large farmers as well as the smaller guys.
A few months back, further south, 500 of the small holders and farmers got together after the government had done nothing about stock losses.
They went across the international border, into Lesotho, and raided the raiders!
Cattle, goats, sheep and horses were herded back into South Africa. There was a huge international (between the two countries) outcry. But, if the South African government had acted as they promised that would never have happened in the first place.
So look out for the blog. I will be giving the blog name out in the next few days.

The Pot Hole

When the schooling fraternity finally had enough of me, I went walk about. Whilst in Walvis Bay, Namibia I discovered the original pothole.
These potholes were sub-street level, dangerous to drivers and pedestrians, with the ability to destroy you and your car. Much the same as the potholes we have today. The only difference being, that one could join others in getting totally wrecked on the greener variety of pot. I kid you not.

These days if truck fumes or an unroadworthy, overcrowded, speeding taxi driven by an unlicensed, drunk, under age driver with a gun (allegedly) does not get you. The dreaded pothole will.
One needs to have been on a ‘crash course’ in F1 chicane manoeuvres, not to end up with a steering wheel the shape of a pretzel through desperation driving whilst negotiating many roads.

South African potholes have gained world tourism status. Roibeárd Mac Giolla Phádraig, from Ireland, has placed a mention on his famous blog about the ‘big’ hole in Kimberley.
In Sheffield England, a gentleman returned to his vehicle to find that the workers had placed asphalt around the tyre of his car whilst attempting to fill a pothole, in which he had advertently parked.
A Politian, in Hillcrest, is blaming these implosions on the high activity on a breed of alien Nigerian mole, recently smuggled into South Africa. (Allegedly)

In Johannesburg, it is possible to phone the ‘Jo burg Pothole Brigade’! (www.potholebrigade.co.za). Having discovered a pothole, you call them; on arrival they will shove a patch over your hole. If they have been paid that is, bearing in mind that the city of Johannesburg is now bankrupt. This process was developed twenty-five ago in New Zealand and has been used in various countries around the world for the last fifteen years.
According to a representative. Over 13,000 potholes (and counting) have become deceased since August 2010. But disturbingly the potholes have reached such a high population, they are now breeding faster than the brigade can patch them.
They are managing to fill 5,000 potholes per month (with no end in sight). The Brigade would do more, but they are limited, as the spray can only be applied at sub-taxi/construction vehicle speed.


I was thinking, that if the Provincial Roads Department could see its way clear to supply us with our own ‘little pothole kits’ we could, as private tax payers, assist them in rectifying the pothole problem.
We could all have our own little backpacks of road mending materials. We would be supplied with a high visibility jacket and a self-assemble ‘road works ahead’ sign - so people can safely nip out and make temporary repairs to their streets. Obviously, we would need one of those enormous felt-tip permanent marker pens to draw fluorescent lines round the potholes. Ahhh, we could then start ‘inter-municipality pothole’ hopscotch.
I still prefer the original pothole. Everybody was friendly, stoned – without throwing them - and you got what you paid for from the owner who was just as stoned.

Published - Mountain Echo May 2011

A true example of the South African political arena

A woman in a hot air balloon realized she was lost. She lowered her altitude and spotted a man in a boat below.

She shouted to him, "Excuse me, can you help me? I promised a friend I would meet him an hour ago, but I don't know where I am."

The man consulted his portable GPS and replied, "You're in a hot air balloon, approximately 30 feet above a ground elevation of 2346 feet above sea level. You are at 31 degrees, 14.97 minutes north latitude and 100 degrees, 49.09 minutes west longitude."

She rolled her eyes and said, "You must be a DA supporter!"

"I am," replied the man. "How did you know?"

"Well," answered the balloonist," everything you told me is technically correct, but I have no idea what to do with your information, and I'm still lost. Frankly, you've not been much help to me"

The man smiled and responded, "You must be an ANC Government official"

"I am," replied the balloonist. "How did you know?"

"Well," said the man, "you don't know where you are or where you are going. You've risen to where you are, due to a large quantity of hot air. You made a promise that you have no idea how to keep, and you expect me to solve your problem. You're in exactly the same position you were in before we met, but, somehow, now it's my fault."

A bit of time

I have been doing quite a bit of writing today. Before the writing, I continued with the instalation of the donkey boiler.

I am putting a donkey boiler in to help cut down on the extortionate electricity bills. I have stripped the bathroom cupboards out and tomorrow I will lay a concrete plinth.

I then managed quite a bit of writing - 3,000 words of free writing.
Then a bit of work on my course booklet for creative writing. Over and above my freelance writing, I coach Creative Writing. This booklet will be handed out with my writing course.

I did a bit of work on the lifesaving book this afternoon. My long term writing project is the research of a book on the 'History and development of Lifesaving in South Africa'.

Then late afternoon I rewarded myself with a walk through the forest and along the river.

Last night we had a light powdering of snow on the higher peaks, and that made for a cold day. Besides the brisk tingly cold, it has been a blustery day which meant long pants, jacket, boots and scarf.

Last night Sootie had poached chicken breast, and this evening she had sirloin steak. Now she is curled up in the coziest chair - where else? - in front of the log fire.

A Diana Krall Cd is playing, candles, good log fire and a glass of Chateau Cardboard 2010. If I could purr - I would.

So if the speed of my modem allows it I might just down load a couple of old photos.

Be happy and lovable.

World's Shortest Story?

"For Sale; Baby shoes. Never worn."
Ernest Hemingway was sitting with writers at the Algonquin Hotel and bet them that he could write a short story in only six words. He won the bet with this clever creation.

An enjoyable added income

Writing is recommended by the medical profession as being highly therapeutic and a stress reducer.
Freelance writing, besides being fun and financially rewarding, does have its advantages.
• It is flexible.
• Work wherever you wish.
• As a self-starter, and reasonably creative, you can earn a welcome flow of extra cash.

Payment varies widely from magazine to magazine. For an 800 word article magazines pay R1,000 – R1,200. Specialist magazines will pay more. Newspapers pay around R600 for an 800 word feature. A well written 2,000 word short story can earn you around R2,000. Fillers and anecdotes can earn you R25, or a complimentary household, food hamper or skin care product.

Do you enjoy cooking, craftwork, pottery, horse riding, mountain biking? Magazines are always looking for original well written articles. Travel magazines are on the lookout for up to date information on walks, birding and places to stay. Your subject and style of writing might be just what the editor is looking for.

Business plans, operations manuals and organisation booklets. Your professional career might have given you the expertise to offer just what a company might need. But, a word of warning! Make sure of your facts. Publications have to be careful. If you submit a badly researched article - besides embarrassing yourself, you could lose a potential customer forever.

There are thousands of publications on the market. When next in a book shop look at the magazines on the shelves. Pick up any magazine and look at the vast array of subjects. A good magazine could include up to thirty or more articles of varying length. And all those editors are looking for content that the reading market will enjoy.

To gain confidence, try the ‘Reader’s Letters’ pages of newspapers and magazines. Many magazines look for small fillers, ‘How to do’ pieces, jokes and funny or unusual photographs. By getting these shorter items published you will gain experience, confidence and build your resume.

Once you feel more confident in your writing, overseas markets should be your next step.

The short story market is highly profitable. Life experiences or a holiday romance – true or imagined - are great money spinners. Overseas publications, with the exchange rates are more lucrative than the local market. A short story published in the U.K. can earn you upwards of R3,000. But read a few back issues of the publication you are targeting so as to get an idea of what they are looking for - length, style and the reader target market.
Another big money spinner is greeting cards. Publishers are always looking for originality.

One of the tricks in being accepted is to submit the right article, at the right time to the right publication.
In my experience, you can write about whatever you wish. And I was taught the best way to achieve that was to ‘sit you’re bum in a chair and write’. Only then will the rewards come.

Published - Mountain Echo April 2011

Where to write?

Some people prefer to write in a room in which they feel comfortable - the lounge, maybe the kitchen, a study or in the garden. Whilst others prefer to write on a freezing cold railway station, empty river barge, rush hour train or noisy shopping centres - ‘on location’.

I look for a setting similar to that of my story, and using the theme of the story I go into ‘free writing’ mode. Free writing allows my hand and mind to combine in a relationship of unlimited imagination.

My hand writes whatever enters my mind. I do not interfere. My senses, imagination and experiences run riot together. There is no editing or changing.
My senses expose what they feel, see, hear and smell. A vivid imagination and life experience stir in their ingredients. The potpourri becomes richer and clearer.
It is easier to weave the story and arouse emotions exposed first hand. Would it not be easier to describe the emotions you feel watching a lamb being born, rather than hearing about it second hand?

Once I feel that I have enough, I close my computer and note book. Yep, I use both. Computer for ‘free writing’ and note book for sudden bullet point flashes.
On my journey home, I will play with ideas. New feelings will be noted immediately, so as not to be lost in the myriad of thoughts, plots and ideas swirling through my mind.

I will then sit in the quiet of my home and write the story. All editing, expanding and changing happens here. Future visits to the area help in making sure that I have the environmental descriptions and sensory feelings I am trying to portray to my audience.

Presently, I am writing a short story on the suicide of a conservationist (game ranger). The setting is in the mountains of Africa. I am using internal monologue genre.

Next to my cottage, a forest covers the lower slopes of a mountain. Last week I walked through the forest to a dam higher up in the slopes. The final path from the forest follows a steep gorge to the dam and is a steep scramble. This will add a frustrating element for my protagonist.

Throughout my walk, my senses were aware of my immediate surroundings. The sounds, smells and how my skin re-acted to the movement and temperature of the breeze.
The day was cold and blustery. Walking through the forest, the sound of the wind blowing through the pine trees was unseemly calming and awakening to my story needs.

I was aware that the frantic mind of my protagonist would not have been aware of these sounds. His focus would be on his suicidal reasonings, and any surrounding movements would more than likely not register on his mind.

I was there. All my senses were caught up in the raw atmosphere in which my protagonist had been living. Why had he made such a drastic decision to end his life?

The steepness of the cliff dropping to green icy waters below. The icy wind buffeting the cliff face. The feelings he would experience sitting alone on a cold, windswept hillside. The cold barrel of the gun, in his hands.

My imagination pulled me into his fall as he pulled the trigger. Those surroundings gave ‘real time emotions’ to the story.

Yesterday I did the walk again. But with a different mindset. That of a carefree mountain walker. A person with his own agenda and thoughts. This walker stops on a ledge and looks out over forest and dam below him. The dam shimmers in the afternoon breeze and he sees the floating corpse.

Where do you prefer to write? At the end of the day it is about personal motivation.

A bit of time

This blog is not about negativity.
BUT, this present ANC government does not have a clue about governance. Self greed and ignorance still continue to bleed our country. The gross mismanagement of our national power supplier, by incompetent people, has seen price rises that are affecting all the people in our beautiful country. Especially those that the new ‘democratic’ government of the last 17 years is meant to be helping.

But hey! We live in Africa. Why should South Africa be any different to the rest of the mess north of our lovely land.

To reduce our extortionate electricity bills I am putting a Kuoni (donkey) boiler into the cottage. (Photo below) I use only pine cones and dead wood which we collect from the forest. I do not cut down trees, not my style. I have stripped out the bathroom cupboards and tomorrow I will lay a concrete plinth.


I managed 3,000 words of free writing today.

Work on my Creative writing booklet progresses. Sometimes this seems to move fairly quickly at other times it drags. This booklet, one of ten, is for my ‘Write Freelance’ coaching course. The booklets will also be for sale on this blog.

My long term writing project, 'History and development of Lifesaving in South Africa' moves along at its own speed. Information from the different lifesaving clubs around South Africa continues to arrive in dribs and drabs.

Late afternoon I rewarded myself with a walk through the forest and along the river.

Last night we had a light powdering of snow on the higher peaks, and that made for a cold day. Besides the brisk tingly cold, it has been a blustery day. This meant long pants, jacket, boots and scarf.

Last night Sootie had poached chicken breast. Poached as in cooked - not illegally shot! This evening she had sirloin steak. Now she is curled up in the cosiest chair - where else? - in front of the log fire.

A Diana Krall CD is playing, candles, good log fire and a glass of Chateau Cardboard 2010. If I could purr - I would.

If the speed of my modem allows, I might just down load a couple of old photos.

Be happy and lovable.

Advice to the writer's cat:

But to return to preventing the writer from getting on with his work. As soon as he sits down at the typewriter, climb into his lap and start the game. Never wait until he has begun or becomes interested in what he is doing, for then your task will be more difficult and you might even suffer the indignity of being thrown out into the garden or shut up in the kitchen. You will learn that it is exactly at the moment when he sits down at the type writer that he is at his weakest and can be most easily put off, for it has taken a tremendous effort for him to bring himself to the point of getting down to the machine.
- Paul Gallico

Mummsy is coming home!!

Sootie and Fart miss mummsy terribly. In fact she is coming home on holiday tomorrow – 5th May 2011.
PARTY!!!
Ohhh and TROUT!