Mom tells me that after I had me tonsils out at about age three, she took me to Kindrochart for some gentle recovery for the poor little tender chap. I clung to her skirts and wouldn’t go to anyone, I wouldn’t even look at, nor speak to, our hosts Mrs Shannon and Betty Stephens. But once, when lovely, friendly Betty – a huge fan of us kids, we called her Betty Brooks – offered to carry me up a hill after I’d run out of poof, I relented / condescended to use her as a pack horse. Mom was leading us up the hill to show me their farm Nuwejaarsvlei, where she was born and lived till she was eight.
Mom also tells that I told on Ma Shannon! I hastened into the house one day to find Mom, ‘Ma! Shannon’s got none clothes on!’ Mom hastened out to see this sight and there was Ma Shannon in full petticoat and underwear, shoes and socks, looking quite respectable, thank you. She was preparing to have the Milraes for tea, and wanted to pull on her dress at the last minute.
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 was enjoying 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, as I piped up, ‘. . and its got none pictures.’
~~oo0oo~~
Pic: Kerkenberg – the old Binghamsberg – from Kindrochart side – from mapio.net
Vrystaat Confessions 