Of birthdays and blossoms

Driving home to Towerwater, I noticed the big old Almond tree alongside the road between the towns of Robertson and Bonnievale, once again in full blossom. Seeing the plum orchard near Wolvendrift, reminded me that it is the fifth year since I started the blog. A photograph of the espaliered plum trees in blossom, was in fact the first image to be posted on the blog.

Almond tree alongside the road between the towns of Robertson and Bonnievale

Now it is five years later. I still feel the same excitement when preparing the Towerwater garden for spring as I did during that first post. I could never have thought that the story of an old Cape farmhouse would find an international audience. As the blog approaches 110000 pageviews, I still wonder about the people who read it in Russia, Belgium, India, Egypt, Kenya, Syria, and another 130 countries.

Towerwater front facade

One must wonder how many stories there are in the world that never get told. Stories of the interesting lives led by creative people in their own unique way. I also realise that we are losing valuable vernacular histories in the process. The art of passing on vernacular skills and histories from generation to generation, is disappearing.

Orchards and windbreaks outside Bonnievale

I hope that my blog will help to keep some of my culture and its traditions alive. I should write more and record precious vernacular skills and recipes. This year has, and is proving to be, a year for major changes in our lives at Towerwater. Time for recording and writing is often sacrificed for the actual activities of gardening, harvesting, preparing, preserving and effecting long-overdue changes.

Violets in the garden

Violets in a Towerwater fruit salad

I feel the pangs of guilt for not writing more in the course of this year. I am also aware that there will come a period when I can dedicate more time to writing. I am nonetheless happy that I can celebrate five years of writing this blog. Knowing that somewhere in the world, someone is enjoying reading it as much as I am its writing.

Heading for spring -2014
Happy birthday blog - 2015
Reflections - 2016
Looking back to the future - 2017
A life imagined - 2018

Canine misadventures in the canal

On an otherwise balmy Sunday afternoon, an unpleasant wind made for an indoor lunch. Serving lunch in the kitchen, at least provided a view towards the lawn and the spot where we would have eaten. As we sat down, the wind dropped, and the garden went quiet but for the sound of the birds.

A perky Yorkshire terrier waiting for her family to fetch her

The quietness extended to the town where everybody seemed to be enjoying a relaxed Sunday lunch. Although it was tempting to move our lunch back to the lawn, we decided to stay at the yellowwood kitchen table. Just before dessert, we both heard an unfamiliar sound emanating from the garden.

To me, it sounded like a large animal drinking water. Leaving the table abruptly, I followed the sound to the canal. Although the sound grew fainter, I still could not identify the source. I looked down the canal and, in the distance, saw what I thought was a small random object floating along.

On further observing how the ‘piece of dirt’, by now ten to fifteen meters distant, alternated direction between opposite canal edges, it dawned on me that it was a small dog trying to escape a tragic watery fate. I realized that the quickest way to reach the dog, now rapidly gaining distance on the strong flow, was by wading through the canal to reach the road alongside on which I could put in a sprint. The shock of the icy cold water on my skin let me instantly realise that swimming after the dog was not even a possibility.

When I reached the bank alongside the dog, I saw it was a Yorkshire Terrier. I called to get her attention. I hoped that she would swim towards me so I could lift her out. The tiny dog’s face reflected sheer terror. She did not respond to my calls. It was clear to me that the tiny dog was losing her fight against the water. Her head disappearing beneath the water at times. I jumped back into the canal. When the dog saw me, she tried in vain to swim towards me. The current was too strong for her now exhausted little body.

I reached out and grabbed the tiny body that was shaking uncontrollably. I placed her gently on the bank as I climbed out. Carrying her home, she shook uncontrollably in my hands. She was freezing cold and suffering from a combination of hypothermia and shock. I realized that I needed to get her dry and warm as quickly as possible.

Keith handed me a towel when I got home. I found a sunny spot in a warm room in which to set her down to be dried. Wrapping her in the towel, I proceeded to dry her and try to get her body temperature up.  The shaking initially seemed to worsen. I decided that rubbing was not enough. I drew up a small fan-heater and sat on the floor with the little dog in the warm sunshine streaming into the room.

Although weak, she did not like the sound of the fan-heater and crawled deeper into my arms. After a while, with her hair dried she started to look like a dog again. Where she sat in front of the heater, she must have realized that it was deeply comforting to sit in the warm air coming from the fan and being rubbed behind the ears and under the chin.

The Yorkshire terrier enjoying the sun and fan heater

The shaking became intermittent with wild bouts of trembling and then moments of stillness. When the shaking finally ceased and she was dry and warm to the touch, I left her in order to fetch my phone. When I returned, she was drying herself on the coir door mat.

When she saw me, she came back to the towel and allowed me to photograph her. I took a photograph of her and her collar and sent it to four friends in town that might be able to help me identify her and trace her family.

When Keith came to see how she was doing, she ran towards him with her tail wagging as to say hello. That was a clear indication that the whole experience was behind her and that she would be okay.

One friend shared it to the Bonnievale social media group. While we waited for a response, I decided to take her to our neighbour and ask if she would mind looking after her when we had to leave for the journey to Cape Town later. I had hardly knocked on the door, when I saw a car come rushing up from town and making a u-turn to stop in front of our house. A girl got out and ran to the gate with a worried expression on her face. I called to her from across the road and when she saw the dog in my arms, she came running. Handing her the dog, she was joined by her mom and sister. From the time the photographs were shared, it had taken 20 minutes to trace her family and reunify them with the little dog. That is all thanks to the power of social media.

Her mom explained that they were not even aware that she was missing when they saw the post on the social media group. They were clearly relieved to find their dog unharmed. The dog was happily reunited with her family, tail wagging as if nothing had happened. I was relieved to hand the little dog back to her family.

The rescued Cape canary

How this tiny Yorkshire Terrier ended up in the canal, and how long she must have been in the freezing water, we will never know. Being attuned to the familiar sounds of the garden, had resulted in the investigation of the unfamiliar. Thus, saving the life of a much-loved little dog.

This is my fourth animal rescue from the canal. The first, some years ago, was a fox-terrier while on a summer’s evening we were braaiing. The moment he had recovered from the ordeal, he repaid us by stealing nearly a kilogram of sausage from the braai. There was a brief moment when the idea to throw him back into the canal flashed through my mind. 

The Vlei rat just before the rescue

Then there was the vlei rat (Otomys Irroratus) and the Cape Canary. Rescuing animals from the canal comes naturally to us. How they find themselves in there has remained a mystery to us each time. I am happy to save them. The reward is to see them fly off, or scurrying into the bushes, or being united with a family that loves them. 

On a warm winter’s day, we were able to spread the magic of Towerwater through the privilege of saving another life.

Adding Linn Ware to the Towerwater library

Beautiful pottery is like visual poetry in a room. The lines, shapes and glazing, forms a harmonious and pleasing visual focal point in a room. I enjoy the different glazes of Linn Ware. I am however, still searching for a pure white Linn Ware bowl.

The blue and green glazes of Linn Ware are well known and are sought-after collectibles. I love the other colours too that feature in the erstwhile work of this studio. The hues of cream, yellow, pink, purple and brown, are as beautiful. Then, there are the hand painted plates, jugs and other wares.

In my research, I have discovered that blue was one of the first colours to be used in glazes. Ancient Egyptian and Persian pottery have been found to contain blue cobalt oxide.

Two months ago, in June, I came across an expired advertisement for a book-launch that took place in November 2018 in Pretoria. The existence of the book, “Olifantsfontein Potteries 1907 – 1962” by Alex Duffey, Riana Heymans and Jan Middeljans, was a most exciting discovery.

I had learned much from the 1989 Masters thesis of Riana Heymans “Pottebakkerswerk in Suid-Afrika met spesifieke verwysing na die werk wat vanaf 1925 tot 1952 by Olifantsfontein gedoen is”, when I originally researched the history of Linn Ware.

A well-researched book on Linn Ware was indeed long overdue. Linn Ware was born out of the Ceramic Studio that was established in the early 20^th Century, out of the defunct Transvaal Potteries.

I started searching for bookshops that might stock this book. I soon discovered that only 250 were published. These comprise of 200 Collector’s Editions and 50 De Luxe Editions. I realized that I might be too late to acquire a copy but decided to enquire, nonetheless. I wrote to the publishers and discovered that there were still a limited number of copies available.

I ordered a Collector’s Edition copy and a week later became the proud owner of a comprehensive book dealing with the potteries and potters of the Consolidated Rand Brick, Pottery and Lime Company Limited. The book is well researched and very informative.

This book dedicates a chapter each to the Transvaal Potteries, the Ceramic Studio and Linn Ware Studio Ceramics. It further discusses the South African painters and sculptors that were related to the Ceramic Studio. It does so in the context of the production by the studio of tiles, tile panels and architectural work. Most importantly, is the record of the markings on Olifantsfontein pottery.

What I find most interesting, is the chapter on the house “Sunlawns” that was designed by the architect Vivian Sidney Rees-Poole for Rowland Cullinan in 1929. The house was designed in the Cape-Dutch Revival style that was popular with South African architects at the time.

Sunlawns: North facade from south end of formal garden, c 1943 - Photographer: Matron   (Source: https://www.artefacts.co.za/)

The design and planting of the garden of “Sunlawns” was inspired by the garden designs of Gertrude Jekyll. Gertrude Jekyll had earlier designed gardens for the houses designed by the English architect Sir Edwin Lutyens.

To quote from the book, “Sunlawns was most likely the only house designed by Rees-Poole, where he could apply the philosophy of handmade utilitarian products, which were both artworks and functional products, to their utmost effectiveness”

Sunlawns: A detail of the riser tiles and heavy tread tile with nosing - Photographer: William Martinson (Source: https://www.artefacts.co.za/)

“Not only was a massive assortment of architectural ceramics available, but also the great variety of ceramic products from the pottery. The house was built on the threshold of the Ceramic Studio, and the availability of the large variety of artistic products from this pottery was undoubtedly an exciting adventure for architect, owner and ceramic artist alike. This adventure certainly led to the erection of a lasting monument to the artistry of the Ceramic Studio and the later Linn Ware Studio – the house Sunlawns, which still exists today for everyone’s enjoyment.”

Reading of this collaboration and seeing examples of the artworks used in and around the building, tempts me to want to see the house and make a pilgrimage to Olifantsfontein. Until then, I enjoy this worthy publication as an addition to the Towerwater library.

Pruning, pips and planting

Life at Towerwater has its unique rhythm. Although many of the tasks on the homestead are repetitive, there is always something new to the routine. Mid-July sees ten intensive days of pruning, cleaning and preening in readiness for spring.

Everything gets pruned, cut back and cleaned. Fresh manure, compost, broken apricot/peach pips and mulch are brought in by the ton. Last year, we used horse manure in the garden with good results for the fruit trees but not quite the desired effect for the roses. This year we decided to use cow manure in the hope that it will have a different result. We prefer sheep manure, but that seems to be very illusive to source.

In the rosarium, we decided to replace Satchmo in the red section. Not because the bush had died, but after 26 years, the plant was not performing well anymore. We decided to replace Satchmo with an old-style English rose, L.D. Braithwaite. The rose L.D. Braithwaite was cultivated from `Mary Rose' and `The Squire'. It is loved by rose-growers the world over. The bright crimson colour and fragrance seduced us into introducing it into the rosarium.

Although the roses did not respond positively to the horse manure in the early season, the plants were stronger in the end. This provided for a lot more to work with when we pruned. The pruning of the roses becomes an activity shared with the town. Friends and neighbours walking by exchange encouragements and some, strangers among them, stop to ask for cuttings.

Through the exercise of pruning and sharing cuttings, we meet other gardeners who share their plants in return. The good karma of gardening is spread around the neighbourhood.

Freshly pruned roses with the mulch raked back and soil turned 

Freshly pruned roses with the mulch raked back, soil turned and manure placed in bed

After pruning the roses, the old mulch is raked aside, and the soil is turned before the manure is fed into the bed. With the manure in place, the mulch is raked back into position and is refreshed with new mulch added.

The roses with their layer of mulch

With the rosarium pruned, pipped and planted, the winter routine for the roses was complete. Now they can rest and prepare to enchant passing townsfolk with their spring display. 

Meer as net 'n rooi granaat

Towerwater aan de breede, die naam spreek boekdele. Die naam vertel die storie van water met ‘n magiese element wat uit, en aan die Breede rivier vloei. Dit herinner aan die name van Leenplase wat 300 jaar gelede aan vryburgers toegestaan is. Leenplase se name wat hulle ligging en topografie beskryf het sodat die VOC onmiddelik ‘n idee kon kry waar die plaas geleë was.

Name soos “de Roode Kley-gat geleegen aan de Breede Rivier”(MOOC8/16.54), “d’Inhoek van de Breede Rivier”(MOOC8/49.17a), “d’Diepe Gat geleegen aan de Berge Rievier[sic]”(MOOC8/14.10a), “de Twee Fonteinen geleegen op de Platteberg op de Picquetberg”(MOOC8/28.6), “Nietgenaamd gel: aan ’t Warmebad bover de Oliphants Rivier agter de Cango langs de Swarte Berg”(MOOC8/49.19)  ens. In Afrikaans/Nederlands was die moontlikhede eindeloos maar om jou plaas se naam vir iemand te sê was soos om ‘n storie te vertel.

Die keuse van jou plaas se naam het ook ‘n storie aan jou besoeker vertel. Die gebruik van die naam van sekere vertrekke wat beelde van gasvryheid optower was ook nie onbekend nie. Wie sal nie by “de Combuijs gelegen in de Cango”(MOOC8/633.55) en “'t Voorhuijs aan de Leeuwen Rivier”(MOOC8/15.46)  wil aandoen nie. Die name tower beelde van ‘n warm kombuis met vars plaasbrood, smeltende plaasbotter en warm stoof geroosterde koffie of ‘n soetsopie met ‘n krakerige koeksister in ‘n koel voorhuis op.

Afrikaans is ‘n lewende taal met ryk beeldspraak. Om regte Afrikaans te hoor is musiek vir my ore. Ek sien Afrikaans want dit is so beskrywend. Audrey Blignault was een van daardie skrywers wat die informele essay tot ‘n kuns kon verhef. Luister maar na haar inleidings paragraaf van die essay “Die rooi granaat”.

“Dit was ‘n tarentaaldag met spikkelveër reen oor die dorp en blink ligkrulletjies in die akkerbome, dié dag toe ek vir die eerste keer geweet het hoe dit regtig is om te leef, dié dag van die rooi granaat.”

Die rooi granaat raak die simbool van ontluikende tienerliefde wat woordeloos met die geskenk van die eerste ryp granaat van die seisoen, ontdek word. Audrey Blignault verhef die alledaagse tot iets baie meer. Die stap van die twee tieners onder die seun se sambreel skooltoe word verweef met beelde wat die leser saam met hulle onder die sambreel plaas.

Waneer hulle die skool  bereik word die deel van die sambreel slegs ‘n inleiding tot iets spesiaal, as die seun die rooi granaat aan die meisie gee. Die rooi granaat word verhef tot ‘n bekentenis met dieper betekenis waar woorde onnodig is.

Die meisie neem die granaat  en die leser ervaar saam haar die belangrikheid van hiedie woordelose gebaar in die slot paragrawe.

“Pietie het dit vir my laat ryp word. Pietie het dit vir my gepluk. Pietie het dit vir my blink gemaak. Pietie het dit aan my gegee.

“Dankie,” sê ek. “Dankie Pietie.”

En oor die granaat kyk ons mekaar woordeloos, begrypend aan.”

Die plesier van die informele essay is dat dit die klein, alledaagse vertroude dinge omskep in ‘n skouspel deur woorde.

So het die eenvoudige rooi granaat al menige  skrywers geinspireer soos bv Kahlil Gibran, D H Lawrence en vele meer. Elke skrywer vind ‘n simboliek om te koppel aan hierdie magiese vrug.

In die Towerwater tuin is die rooi granaat eerstens ‘n vrug wat vir my in sy eksotiese eenvoud die onthou van gister verbeeld. My grootword landskappe is deurspek met granaatbome.

Ons het die granaat boom geplant om die vrugtetuin by Towerwater histories korrek te hou maar op ‘n manier het ek ook my geskiedenis in die tuin geplant. Die rooi granaat is ‘n plesier vrug wat altyd ‘n magiese element in sy vorm, kleur en vrug vir my sal hou.

Die vrug is een van daardie eenvoudige alledaagse plesiere wat soveel meer kan raak deur die verbeelding.

Die lewe is ‘n skouspel, dit hang net af hoe mens daarna kyk. Ek sal nooit genoeg kry van die eenvoud in die lewe nie want daarin lê die rykdom van geniet. Die seisoen van die rooi granaat is verby maar die kaal boom in die boord is ‘n kleinood vir die winter.