The old man inviting me to go someplace! How’s that!? I hopped into the old faded-blue VW Kombi OHS 153. This sounded interesting. We never went to the railway station. We’d go near there to the old MOTH hall and occasionally to the circus field when the Big Top was pitched there! But never toContinue reading “Come With Me To The Station”
They say the next one – fifty years – is known as The Matric Farewell . .
Mom went to this school, as did all three of us kids. Annie (Mom’s Mom) may have, too? Before us, Etienne Joubert went, and he remembers: Playing ‘Hasie’ under the Bluegums near the old Golf club house; Playing ‘Bok-bok’ behind the bottom class rooms; Eating ‘Manna’ under the Bluegums; Playing marbles in the main playground.Continue reading “Volkskool – Primary School”
We were in second year and had just moved out of downtown Joburg and Eloff Street to the salubrious semi-suburban delightful area of Doornfontein which was once Joburg’s premier suburb where all the gold mining magnates and Randlords lived and built their mansions. So some final year students asked us to help them in theirContinue reading “Serious Optometric Research”
Once again Platberg is burning. Old school friends Noeline Bester and Annatjie Labuschagne sent these images. Sure hope the Grey Rhebok and Mountain Reedbuck and Chacma Baboons that Koos Beukes and Pierre du Plessis tell me are still there, are OK.
We mocked Bloemfontein as Flower Fountain and always looked on Durban as the big city, seldom Joburg, as we would head 299km to the coast not 268km inland to JHB when going for any city business. Bloem never featured. It was 378km and more of a backwater. Once you got there, you’d ask yourself WHY?Continue reading “Flower Fountain”
Miz Zobbs was scathing: Why can’t any of you whistle? Listen to Claudio! HE can whistle. Show them Claudio. It takes a boy from Italy to show you lot how to whistle! Poor old Claudio Bellato dutifully pursed his lips and tootled some Italian to show us how it was done while probably thinking .Continue reading “Scotland the Brave 3”
Matric. Rugby season. I’m not playing. Old pipe-smoking, Andy Capp cap-wearing, grog-loving, moustachioed Stollie Beukes came up to me at school and asked straight-forwardly and politely, no weaseling, no guilt-suggesting. That’s him ‘playing goalie’ above. “Ons kort a paar manne in die derdespan. Sal jy vir ons speel?” “Ja, sekerlik,” I said, “Sal ek oefeningsContinue reading “On Not Playing Rugby”
1995, so their fiftieth reunion! One Harrismith wag on his way to a different class 50th reunion said – mischievously and perceptively – “I’m going to my matric farewell.”
On 2018/12/18 Stephen Reed wrote: Had a late afternoon chat with Stanrey Kraarke this afternoon . . ( that would be a phone call across the Tasman Sea ) Pete replied: Ah, good to hear the ancient old bullet is still alive!! Hoezit Kev!!? ( I have cc’d him here) I can’t think of DooriesContinue reading “Doories Daze”