An orange tree - a wintry blessing

Every winter the orange tree in our garden bursts with an abundance of bright yellow fruit - so yellow in fact, that for years we thought it was a lemon tree. And every year hungry passers-by either request to be allowed to pick fruit or just enter the garden and help themselves without permission.

 Thus, during winter, we have so much activity in our front garden, with people wandering in and out as if in a public park/garden. I really did not mind. The tree is popular and its produce bountiful.

I did not even mind when people came in, without permission, just to pick a few oranges and then left. Even when they ask for permission, I would agree and then go back inside, trusting that they will treat our property with respect.

Sadly though, many people have taken advantage of this freedom. A few years ago, the very youths whom I allowed to pick oranges, then decided to rip our garden tap out of the ground to sell it for scrap metal. When I returned outside to check up on them, they were dashing down the street laughing, leaving the water spouting wastefully about 3 meters into the air. Luckily Mo popped in from work a few minutes later and was able to stop the water by sealing the pipe.

There have also been incidents where people coming to ask for food steal from the premises while waiting for us to heat up their meals. Like the time a young man stole our plastic doorbell button. Why, I don't know. I cannot imagine any use this piece of plastic could be to him without the actual doorbell. On the other hand, losing this tiny object meant that we could not operate our doorbell.

Last month my kids were so upset when some children we'd allowed to pick oranges stole one of our goldfish from our pond as soon as our backs were turned. Each of my kids had had a fish - the fish they stole turned out to be Nuha (7)'s. She cried pitifully for more than an hour for her little friend, Marina. We comforted her, saying that we were certain that Marina would be well looked after and that we were sure that the children who took her were kind and caring (At which Shakeel (13) snorted cynically).

Every night we have people coming to the door for food or money. Usually they are the same people who return over and over. For the past few months, a certain gentleman has made it a habit to pop in late at night, bang on our security gate and scream loudly until we answer. Mo has, on numerous occasions, threatened not to give him anything if he did not stop carrying on in such a vulgar fashion; the man would then simply apologise, make off with his food/money and then return the following night to do exactly the same thing.

Last week, on Thursday night, he again banged on the gate and asked for money. He specified that he did not want food, but preferred the money. Since Mo was working late, I asked the gentleman to return at 14:00 the following day(Friday), since Mo would be returning from mosque at that time and could then give him whatever money he had to spare.

At 12:10 the following afternoon he returned. Not having expected this gentleman to return almost 2 hours earlier than agreed, I asked Elizabeth, the domestic worker, to answer the door and give whoever asked for assistance, the food which I'd set aside. Thinking that I was about to renege on our agreement of the night before, he became furious. He tore broken my little fence(surrounding my veg and herb patch) made of wooden logs and used one log to bang loudly (and frighteningly) on the security gate, screaming and cursing all the while.

I came out and when I saw that it was him, I am ashamed to say, I really lost my cool. He screamed that we'd had an agreement, to which I replied that I had not been expecting him at 12:10. Mo was not even home yet. I had no money to give him. He then tried to hurl the log at me through the metal bars, and threatened to harm me should he ever get me outside (This he obviously said in the most colourful language imaginable).

He then started bashing our dirt bin, which was outside for garbage collection. Cursing , swearing and threatening me, he walked off.

A few days later he returned for food. Deciding that he was probably sorry for what had happened, I warmed him some leftovers and then locked the gate behind him as he left the garden. He then proceeded to plonk himself down in our driveway to enjoy his meal. I did not mind. An hour later he finished his lunch, fumbled around a bit, then - after struggling to get to his feet - tried to toss his litter through the fence into our garden! Since he caught me glaring at him, he then opted to simply toss all his litter in our driveway and walk off.

I undertook not to deal with him again. I would only open for him if Mo was home. Two nights later I heard a loud banging at the security gate of our porch. I called for Mo, but the time he had taken to arrive must have been too long for the person waiting outside, because when we opened the gate, we saw that someone had kicked/bashed broken our garden tap once again, leaving the water to flood the half of the garden.

　

I was almost certain that the same guy was responsible. As stupid as this sounds, I was truly hurt. And disillusioned. Every time I'd opened my heart to this man (and many others) they've ended up disrespecting me and abusing my trust.

But despite advice from family members that I should just lock our outside gate and keep these people from entering altogether, I can't help but feel that doing so would be punishing deserving people for the deeds of others.

And I cannot help but wonder if my petty feelings of selfish hurt should perhaps take a back-seat to the needs of the people who approach us for assistance; especially in the light of the weather we've been experiencing now recently.

Two nights ago I lay awake guiltily, thinking of that man and others like him. I shuddered at the thought of having to emerge from beneath my warm bedcovers, so how on earth was he surviving? What keeps these people from succumbing to the effects of hypothermia?

I don't remember ever having experienced such a cold winter in my life. I am not the only one - many people have been saying that this is the coldest Cape Town winter they had ever experienced. And, like me, these people have solid secure homes, access to warm food and drink and the means to keep themselves warm (like heaters, warm showers, electric blankets etc).

I pray for God to provide some means of shelter, warmth and comfort to everyone this winter. And, that those of us who are by the means, find it in our hearts to assist these unfortunate souls in whatever way possible.

It is very easy to become annoyed at them 'bothering' us at the most inopportune times; at their ill-timed pleas for assistance disturbing us snuggling beneath our warm blankets.  And this is perhaps when we must remember that  ''there, but for the grace of God, go I''.

And, when I consider the adage that ''those who give selflessly are blessed'', suddenly my perspective changes and I realise that this bothersome orange tree is, in fact, our blessing.

Wanted to have a bit of a moan, but on second thought....

As a reader of this blog, you will have noticed that I am all about gratitude, living in the moment and appreciating the here and now. I even changed my blog name to reflect the savouring and appreciation of the moment.

That having been said, I have to admit - I don't think I can handle this cold weather for one more minute. I just don't think I'm built for it. On days that other people are wearing flimsy T-shirts, I need a jersey. So just try to imagine how I'm feeling today - it's a mere 15 degrees Celsius. Whether outside or indoors, I experience no relief from the cold. I've been sipping on green tea and coffee all morning - I'm shaking from what I assume is a combination of caffeine and coldness.

I go to bed wearing 3 long-sleeved tops underneath the thickest pyjamas I can find in my cupboard. Very sexy. (I guess I can take a break from contraception this winter).

I know I shouldn't be such a baby - there are people living very nearby - in poorly constructed shacks. I do think about them all the time - if I'm feeling like this, I just cannot imagine how they are able to tolerate the cold.

Which again brings me to - gratitude. I started this post just wanting to have a moan, but now I realise I really really shouldn't - I have way too much for which I can be grateful.

In fact I think it would be a good idea to head off to Pep Stores some time to find out the price of blankets. I'm certain it will help them - even just a bit. It is heartbreaking to think about all the kids who are forced to live in those flimsy structures, which provide very little protection from the elements.

So I guess it's time to man up, stop being such a wuss and start walking the walk.

Challenging the waves on a rainy day

On Sunday last week Mo and I were planning to spend the lovely rainy day indoors with the family. By lunch time however, the kids' arguments and nagging were driving us nuts.

Mo suggested that we take the kids to Sea Point, taking along our home-made lunch to be enjoyed in the car while watching the waves.  I had made mince curry and bought roti, which was easy to convert into a lunch 'to go' by simply rolling the steaming fragrant curry in the roti's -  forming a curry wrap called a salomie.

When we arrived in the car park overlooking the sea, the kids could barely contain their excitement, as the roar of the huge ferocious waves filled one with awe and exhiliration. So after managing to take a few obligatory bites of their carefully-prepared lunches, they dashed out of the car and onto the promenade, where some families were enjoying lazy icy walks, while trying to stay out of the way of the hard-core fitness junkies out for their daily run.

Shakeel (12 at the time) and Tharaa (10) took a few tentative steps toward the railings, before realising that the section beneath the railings was extremely slippery. The thunderous terrifying roar of the ocean was sufficient to cause them to come to their senses and step back a meter or two. They were beside themselves with excitement.

The rapidity with which these gigantic waves approached the land caused them to crash over onto the promenade and sometimes even onto the parked cars! 

I couldn't resist stepping out of the car and into the rain. The thrill, the excitement, the inexplicable allure of perceived danger - absolutely irresistable.

A calmer moment of the sea- capture from the safety of the car

I carefully peered over the edge at the swirling frothy waters beneath. Fascinating. Beautiful. And for some reason - mouthwatering.

The spray as it hits the wall

The kids were absolutely drenched. Even 7 year old Nuha put aside her fear of a potential tsunami long enough to participate in the game of chasey which her siblings were playing with the waves.

Shakeel, resourceful as ever, retrieved a towel (in which his resourceful mommy had rolled the salomies to keep them warm) from the car - using it to protect himself from the spray. Very soon the towel, too was sodden.

But soon Nuha injured her foot in the game of chasey and ended up sitting in the car weeping pitifully. Her unsympathetic siblings carried on playing unperturbed by their little sister's injury.

Soon after Nuha's injury we left for home. But not before stopping off at McDonalds for an ice-cream - the perfect medicine to assist Nuha to overcome the pain of her injury. As usual, it worked like a charm.

''And where was two-year old Aisha all this time?'' you might be wondering.

Exercise and writing - our first new winter indoor activities

One of my concerns this past holiday was how to limit my kids' screen time. They were limited to two hours of screen time (which included TV, Playstation and computer) per day. This allotted time was usually staggered throughout the day.


While they managed to sneak in extra time on some days, on others they would spend most of their allotted time playing outside / on family outings.


Before Mo took leave last week, the kids and I spent our mornings in gym - with the older two on the cardio circuit with me, while the younger two played in the gym's designated play area. Since 2 year old Aisha is not at school yet, the experience of being in a public play area with other children was a major source of excitement.


On Tuesday I bravely (and, as it turned out - stupidly) agreed to allow them to swim at the gym. So after I'd had my workout, we collected the younger two at the play area. While Shakeel (12) waited for us at the pool, Tharaa (10) helped me to get the younger two ready in the ladies' changing rooms. They giggled with much amusement as I tried to squeeze my darling Aisha (2)'s giant head into the tiny swimming cap.

The kids thoroughly enjoyed their time in the water. I readied myself to dive in at a moment's notice, should either of the younger two experience difficulty. Aisha stayed on the wide step at the edge of the pool, while 7 year old Nuha bravely swam a strange, but cute combination of doggy paddle and breast-stroke down the length of the pool. Since she is not a confident swimmer yet, I walked alongside her while Tharaa stayed with Aisha.


Shakeel and Tharaa, as usual, were competitive and noisy and I constantly had to remind them that this was not our local public pool. They swam laps - each trying to beat the other's time.


It was all going swimmingly - until Aisha started to cry, saying that she was getting cold. I panicked, because I knew what was to follow. I ordered the others of the pool, but as usual, they begged to be allowed one more lap. As I spoke, they dove underwater, pretending not to hear me. Until I said, ''Guys, Aisha is about to have a tantrum''. Which is when they swiftly leaped out of the water and into the changing rooms before she emitted her first piercing shriek.


I'd clearly not thought ahead when agreeing bring the kids swimming in cold weather all by myself. Although the indoor pool is heated, it was icy outside, so I could not leave until they had showered and dried their hair. Aisha became increasingly tired and agitated, moaning and then screaming all the while. I got stares from the other women in the locker room - not all of them understanding. A young lady flashed me a sympathetic smile as she, no doubt, witnessed the perspiration dripping from my forehead.


With a frozen smile I dragged screaming Aisha past the lounge area, in which the well-groomed toned bodies were enjoying their morning coffee (or more likely herbal teas). Never again, I promised myself.


At home we spent the cold days indoors. I gave the children writing exercises to do, having gotten the idea from a homeschooling mother of eight kids. This amazing mommy blogger (who blogs at this address ) gave this advice on how to tackle creative writing. So borrowing this idea, I decided to make writing a holiday activity. Admittedly, this was initially not received with overwhelming enthusiasm, but after a few minutes the noisiness died down and the only sound that could be heard, were those of fervent pencils scratching paper. What added to their excitement was the fact that I'd asked them to do a dramatic reading of their writing - and oh, how they love being dramatic!

Despite some of their initial complaints, I could not stop them once they'd started writing. Following the advice of amazing mommy blogger mentioned earlier, I did not focus on spelling and provided the correct spelling of words only when asked.

They were, themselves, surprised at how much they had to write (even on topics about which they had initally felt they had nothing to say). Very often one simply just has to start writing - and the ideas will flow.

The dramatic readings were just as I'd imagined them to be. Shakeel hid his discomfort and shyness with displays of over-the-top theatrics. Tharaa marvelled at how well her brother expressed himself in writing (and I too was really impressed).

Tharaa's delivery of her reading was more understated, but dramatic. I was amazed at her language usage and the way her sensitivity reflected in her writing. As I had expected, she read out her piece with confidence.

Nuha, who is usually quite shy, surprised me with her willingness to stand in front and read her one-page essay (while often getting confused at her own unique spelling). I was amazed at how much detail she recorded in her writing - this tendency enabled her to flesh out a topic about which I'd thought she would not have much to say. She read her piece earnestly and seriously, but oh-so-adorably!

Then it was two-year old Aisha's turn. She stood in front of us, holding her page of scribbles and started to 'read'. Her delivery was dramatic - arms flailing wildly; facial expressions showing her passion. The random words, which she had strung together to form meaningless sentences, were spoken with expression - her voice deepening and lilting as required by the context of her gibberish.

This year I am determined to use the icy weather to its best advantage. Winter need not be a season of gloom. It can provide families with the opportunity to become creative, as they try to find stimulating and exciting ways to keep themselves occupied indoors. More importantly (for me), spending this time indoors (while creating indoor fun) can foster a feeling of closeness, togetherness and warmth - which is the perfect antidote to the chilly winter weather.