Mom tells me that after I had me tonsils out at about age three, she took me to Kindrochart for recovery for the poor little tender chap. I clung to her skirts and wouldn’t go to anyone, but once when lovely friendly Betty Stephens – a huge fan of us kids – offered to carry me up a hill after I’d run out of poof, I condescended.
Mom also tells that I told on Ma Shannon! She had appeared on the stoep in her nightie and I hastened to tell Mom, ‘Ma! Shannon’s got none clothes on!’ Apparently Ma Shannon tried hard to get me to call her Nana, but I’d not call her anything but ‘Shannon.’
On the way back to the big smoke, driving on the gravel road towards Platberg, Mom was telling Betty about a book she’d enjoyed reading about a Belgian nun – The Nun’s Story – I had the book in my hands on the back seat and it seems I was disappointed in it. So I piped up, ‘. . and it’s got none pictures.’
Pic: Kerkenberg – the old Binghamsberg – from Kindrochart side – from mapio.net
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