Our water on the other hand is still quite disgusting

I put this water into the bottles 10 days ago hoping to be able to sediment out the sand and get clean water.  To date there is very, very, little sedimentation and it still looks just as orange as when I bottled it.  I have tried filtering it through cloth and coffee filters but nothing comes out.  Ceramic jug filters just get blocked so they are no good either.

A city 100km’s away from us sends a huge truck filled with water to our town every day and we can collect water.  For a day or two all bottled water in the stores was sold out but they are all fully stocked now.  I looked at some prices for those who purchase their water – Pick ‘n Pay R18.95 for 5L, – Labamba R12.95 for 5L and Oasis, R13.95.

I use our purchased bottled water for cooking and drinking. Even Cleo and Savannah get bottled water to drink.  We shower in the orange water but I just can’t bring myself to wash our clothes in it.  Our laundry pile is quite huge.  I met a lady yesterday who is taking her washing to Nelspruit (2 hours away) to get it done in a laundromat there.  I will have to make a plan to get some washing done somehow as it does not look like this problem will be resolved in the very near future.

The small roads on and around our farm are in a state of disrepair.

These gullies will have to be filled with rock and sand to avoid further erosion when it rains.

Some good news though, is that our new baby giraffe is fit, fat and flourishing and survived the rains well.

Art group has started up again for the year and on Thursday our exercise was supposed to be a quick study of colour – testing out the transparency of acrylic paint.  As usual I got carried away and my quick colour study turned into a full-scale painting to the dismay of Anne, our very patient teacher.

I never used to like painting still life pictures but things seemed to have changed and I am having so much fun with this one.  Still a bit to do….

I awoke to the sound of torrential rain. Another wet day. We had already had rain continuously for a day and a half and everything was getting muddy and damp.  I had recently started a small mornings-only job to assist a friends business so I had to get up and cracking and into town by 7am.

I am not a great morning person so when I had to get to my car I only half noticed that I was up to my ankles in water.  Hurry hurry – let’s go.

As I got to the main road, I realised that there was quite a bit of water laying everywhere and it was still coming down hard.  I was following another driver who kept on putting their hazard lights on when they rode through water puddles – I looked around again and could not believe how wet my world looked. I took a few photos.

On my way to town I cross about 5 rivers/ dry river beds – by the time I was 4 km’s outside of Hoedspruit the smaller rivers were starting to flow across the road. I reached the Zandspruit (Sand River) and many cars were backed up and people were getting out of their vehicles.  I stopped and asked if there was an accident and a man told me that the river was flowing across the road and it was too deep and strong to cross.

I then realised that if I did not hot-tail it back home – I would be caught on the road between two rivers , unable to go anywhere, so I turned my car around and headed home as fast as I could.  By the time I crossed the Blyde river near my turn-off it was about 1 meter below the bridge (normally about 5-6 meters below).

At this stage I should have given up and not tried to go any further because our 10km sand road runs alongside this river for about 4 km’s before it veers off towards the small farming area where I live, however, I carried on – I try to reason with myself and ask myself why I did not stop then and I can’t answer.

My trip from hell began.  Water was rushing from the bush and farmlands across the road and into the river alongside the sand road, digging great big gashes in the road.  I wanted to stop but I could not because I would never have got back to safety, so I clenched my teeth, loosened my safety belt and opened my window in case I needed to escape from my car in a hurry and just had to keep going.  Those 4 km’s felt like 10 km’s. My car kept getting washed and pushed sideways by the strong currents crossing the road, and just when I thought I would wash off the road my wheels gripped again and I got out of the stream, only to have to cross another and slide again.  How I got through I will never know but I believe I was the last vehicle on that road before the entire road washed away as the river rose to meet the water pouring from the farms.

Our small community at the end of the sand road was isolated from the main road and town for 4 days.  Our electricity failed by 8 am and was only restored 4 days later and then only intermittently.  Our tap water turned orange/red and became unpalatable and remains that way.  Tonight (23 Jan) I got my internet connectivity back.

My only source of information came via my mobile phone where I could access Facebook and hear how everyone else was doing. Luckily one of the empty homes on our reserve had solar power and a gas freezer so I made use of their facilities to charge my phone and keep my food frozen as best I could. Many folk had no communication once their phone batteries emptied.

My friends and their families in town were also isolated from the surrounding areas because almost every bridge over a river or dry stream was washed away. Homes situated near rivers and dry river beds were washed away. A lady on the farm next door whose house was near the river had to be airlifted to safety as were 150 other people from the areas surrounding Hoedspruit.  Her car was washed onto our farm. Many, many people have lost everything they own.

Here are a few pictures

Photo by Annelise Smit – This is the river that was 1 meter below the bridge when I crossed it.

Photo by Andre Weideman – Paddle-skiing down the R40 (normally a road)

This is the river that runs along the border of my farm (Blyde river) – crossing the road instead of going under the bridge.

Photo taken and the closest store to my home. That’s the end of that wall….

Roads have been devoured….

many homes damaged…..

Photo by Freek Stoop. My local petrol (gas) station

The community here has stood together amazingly.  Instead of waiting for aide – our farmers and a few local companies got together and repaired roads and bridges.  Farmers from Tzaneen have sent us truck loads of drinking water.  Everyone has tried to do their bit to help those in need. Our local newspaper, Kruger2Canyon kept us all up to date via Facebook so we could follow what was happening although almost everyone in our entire area was stranded. They squashed rumours of the dam wall cracking and kept us all sane. I am so thankful to them.

While we were all isolated from town, one of my colleagues, Kleintjie Viljoen, took this video of what was happening in Hoedspruit itself.  He apologises for the running commentary.

Our beautiful small town is now in an awful state of disrepair and many people have lost all they owned.  Poorer communities were struck really badly and many of these people have no homes, food, drinking water, or clothes.

Here are details for those of you who wish to make a contribution to assist those who have nothing left.

Ref : Flood Disaster Relief
HOEDSPRUIT TRAINING TRUST
ABSA Bank
Acc No: 4055 05 1951
Branch: 632005
ABSA SWIFT Code ABSAZAJJ

Carlé understandably was really not keen to go but we persisted and she agreed as long as she would not be forced to look, see, touch or experience spiders in any way. We agreed and hoped that the folk at Khamai Reptile Park would have a plan.

When we got there we were greeted by Daniel and Donald who assured Carlé that she would never have to do anything that she did not want to do.  They started to talk to her about spiders and which ones are dangerous to us here in South Africa. Naturally she wanted to know what the dangerous ones looked like so she could identify them if ever she came across them. Daniel showed them to her (they were in glass cages so Carlé felt safe.)  We were then taken to see the reptiles and were allowed to hold what ever we liked. Carlé has a fondness for bearded dragons etc. so she was put at ease with these creatures.

and her sisters got to play too

The dragon in the picture above has a tumour on it’s leg – it was handed in at the park in this condition. As soon as the tumour gets too large, the folk at the reptile park will remove it surgically.

We were then taken to a patch of shady lawn at the park and seated to hear more about spiders. They showed  us casings of baboon spiders (shedded skins) which look exactly like the spider itself except a small portion of the back is missing where the spider emerged. We were allowed to touch and feel although Carlé held back. She did manage to watch us play with a baboon spider though.

We were all ‘oooh-ing’ and ‘aaah-ing’ after the experience because it is quite a special moment  when you hold one of these creatures. They are so soft and gentle and oh-so-light on their tippy toes across your skin. (I know many of you won’t believe this because I didn’t until I picked up the nerve to hold one – now I can’t get enough)

Then we went off to feed the chameleons

and play with the baby tortoises

It was at this point that Carlé mentioned to Daniel that she may just like to try to touch the spider so he took her back inside and told her that he would  just let her feel what the spider’s feet felt like.  Daniel had so much patience with us and with Carlé – never pushing her beyond what she was ready for.

You can see by the way that Carlé is sitting that she is quite nervous still.  I will let the following sequence of pictures tell the rest of the story.

The staff at Khamai Reptile Park were absolutely amazing with vast amounts of interesting information and tons of patience with the children. These are the folk who worked with me to get me over my snake phobia over two years ago. (Now go back and look at the last few pictures again, this time looking into the glass window behind Carlé’s head)

See – I am cured too

And now Carlé wants her own tarantula!

(photos kindly taken and provided by Ronney Reece and Erika Green)

Around noon on new years day a pregnant female giraffe was spotted on the farm with one of her babies legs sticking out of her rear end. She seemed to be in distress. By 2 pm we were getting worried about her so we called the local vet to attend to her.

We had quite a bit to prepare before the vet could dart her. We had to have 8 adults who could sit on her once she was darted and we needed many liters of cold water to keep her cool while the vet worked.  We recruited everyone we could find and filled up our fire tank so that by the time the vet arrived we would be ready.

At 2.30 we could not find the pregnant giraffe so search groups were sent out to look while my sister and I let the vet into the reserve.  He loaded up his dart gun and we joined the search groups just as they found her. The baby had just fallen to the ground. (3pm)

Our vet explained that this was very unusual because if only one leg is out they normally get stuck.  He was relieved though, because if he had had to dart her, the chances of the baby surviving were very low.

We all sat quietly about 50 meters away from the baby and mother behind some trees and watched the baby try to stand.  They are normally on their feet within 10 minutes.  If they are not up by 20 minutes one starts to worry.  Our baby tried very hard but could not get up.  The long and difficult birth had tired it out.  We left it as long as we possibly could because one does not like to meddle in the natural cycle. If you interfere with the baby you run the risk of the mother moving off with the herd and then we would have had to hand rear the baby.

After we waited an hour the vet said that the baby would die if we don’t get it up so he walked in very carefully trying not to chase the mother off too far but not wanting her to defend her calf, and he lifted the baby to its feet and held it up for a few minutes and then moved away so that the mother giraffe could approach her baby again.  He walked away and the baby fell to the ground after a minute or two of standing on its own.  After another 10 minutes he again went in and lifted the calf.  The situation was getting difficult now because the only way the baby would get some strength would be if it could drink some colostrum from its mother.  After a few more minutes the baby fell down again.

We then started calling around to cattle farmers in the area trying to find some cow colostrum but we were unsuccessful.

The vet left us at this stage and told us to keep lifting the calf every hour.  At 5.30 we went down to lift her up again and were so happy to find her on her feet.  We checked again at 6.30 pm and she was still up and was now moving around. She must have fed from her mother by this time because she was looking so good.  By morning the herd had moved off with the baby in tow.

Yesterday while on a game drive I spotted her with her mom again – looking well and happy.

Here are a couple of pictures taken by my friend Rina, of the calf with the vet as he was getting her up.

It was quite an eventful new years day and an awesome thing to experience.

The rock monitor (Varanus albigularis), also called the legavaan or white-throated monitor, is a species of monitor lizard found in southern Africa. It is the second longest lizard found on the continent of Africa and the heaviest bodied. They reach 2 meters  in length, although this fellow was only about 1 meter long.  I love seeing them so I need to find a way to stop Cleo going a little berserk when they come to visit.

On another scaly matter, we have a resident black mamba that has decided to become our gate guard.  It has been spotted on quite a few occasions now, about 5 meters outside of our main reserve gate. We are being very, very careful now when we alight from our vehicles to open and close the gate.  Although we use torches at night, it does feel a little creepy when it’s dark and I try to get back in my car quite fast.

I snapped a picture of his tail yesterday afternoon.

My apologies for the poor quality of the picture – I had to take it fast before he/she moved off and it was taken through my dirty windscreen.

Here is some information from Wikipedia which may explain why we get a little nervous of him.

The black mamba (Dendroaspis polylepis), also called the common black mamba or black-mouthed mamba, is the longest venomous snake in Africa, averaging around 2.5 to 3.2 meters (8.2 to 10 ft) in length, and sometimes growing to lengths of 4.45 meters (14.6 ft). Its name is derived from the black colouration inside the mouth rather than the actual colour of its scales which varies from dull yellowish-green to a gun-metal grey. It is the fastest snake in the world, capable of moving at 4.32 to 5.4 metres per second (16–20 km/h, 10–12 mph). It is a notorious snake that’s feared throughout the world. It has a reputation for being very aggressive and highly venomous. Many herpetologists have cited this species as both the world’s deadliest and most aggressive, noting a tendency to attack without provocation. They are among the world’s ten most venomous land snakes, and when threatened or cornered they become fiercely aggressive, which is why they are given mythical status.

Although it would much rather avoid confrontation and flee from any perceived threat, the black mamba can be extremely aggressive if badgered long and hard enough, during breeding season, when defending territory or an egg nest, or if cornered with no escape, it will stand its ground and display fearsome tenacity and explosive aggression while hissing loudly and striking repeatedly. No other snake in the continent is as loathed, and yet respected and feared at the same time.

The black mamba is known to be capable of reaching speeds of around 20 kilometers per hour (12 mph), traveling with up to a third of its body raised off the ground.

Although only 10 to 15 mg of it’s venom is deadly to a human adult, its bite delivers about 100–120 mg of venom on average,but they can deliver up to over 400 mg of venom in a single bite. Its bite is often called “the kiss of death” because before antivenom was widely available, the mortality rate from a bite was 100%. Severe black mamba envenomation can potentially kill a human within 20 minutes or less depending on the nature of the bite and the area bitten, but death usually occurs after 30–60 minutes on average, sometimes taking up to three hours. British wildlife enthusiast Nathan Layton was bitten in Hoedspruit, a small town near Kruger National Park, by a juvenile black mamba and died in less than 30 minutes after being bitten.

 

If he does not move away in the next few weeks we will probably have him relocated to a more remote area of the farm.

Related articles

• Black mamba bite ‘killed student’ (bbc.co.uk)

Image via Wikipedia

I am a happy, positive person. So much so that I think I may irritate people a bit – especially those that don’t like happy, positive people.  I think they think I’m a fake.  How can someone always be so happy and positive – impossible?

But really – I am.  My life is so simple now – I follow a natural rhythm that has just seemed to have happened and I am so very happy just being me.  It’s been exceptionally good since I stopped working at the packhouse and started on Jackal’s Den.

Have I been living in an ideal little bubble? Maybe…… but it’s been so darn nice.

That is till I went to Johannesburg two weeks ago. I forgot to put on my body armour, my little self protective wall that comes in so handy when there are so many people around. I think I got a little battered and bruised there.

I have never liked conflict but have had to deal with it from time to time when i was working in the corporate world, but that was a few years ago now.  When I got to Johannesburg – the mad rushing crowd started me off, then I had a nasty run in with the man who thatched the Bean’s roof.

Also there was a little bit of family conflict around my son and his wedding (not on our side thank goodness) and a few other minor family things that got me on edge.  By mid-week I wanted to hop in my car and come home to my sanctuary.

My Father is also not well and he sat me down while I was there and told me that he has decided not to go back to hospital again. I don’t want this to happen.

I got back here to the farm and after a few quiet days, another owner on the farm was here visiting his portion, when he dropped down dead from a heart attack. It was such a shock as I had been chatting to him a few hours before he died.  He loved it here although he could only get here about once a month. It was also his sanctuary but it could not protect him from everything. He was the man who bought my hornbill painting. His funeral is tomorrow.

Also another sadness when I found out that a fellow blogger had lost the love of her life after such a short time together. It made me weep. Life is so fragile yet we tend to blunder through it pretending we are invincible. We are not.

I need to get back into my groove here – I miss my little bubble – as idealistic as it may be – it makes me happy.  I just need to first finish fighting with my bank manager……………..

I have come to the conclusion that sometimes life is like a cats tongue……rough.

My sincerest condolences go out to the du Plessis family and to Heather Mason of 2Summers.

I would love to hear about what you see? Quite a bit to work with if you look carefully. Tell me the story……

This did much for my ego and I was really preening and was about to scream from the rooftops about my brilliant photography when I read the last line describing which photo it was…….

“ Would it be possible for us to use your photo of gnu poo in the magazine?”

I guess I am probably one of very few who have published that kind of picture……..

 oh well…..

Photo by Steve Walker

The wedding service was lovely after which we had a delicious breakfast at tables set out under some shady trees surrounded by beautiful gardens and a pond with ducks.  It was really special.

A Mother’s Song

 by Anthony W. Carter

 Tying little shoe laces
Wiping off dirty faces
Are just a couple of things
That a mother will do…

Mending a broken heart
Is only just a part
Of the care and the love
That I’ve given you…

With a Kool-aid smile
And a sparkle in your eyes
I wrap you in my arms
And whisper this advice…

Be strong, be kind
Be patient and in time
You’ll find out, my son
What true love is all about

Be faithful and be true
Show love in all you do
Then you’ll know, just how
You make your mother proud

Now, little boy days have passed
And you’ve grown up so fast
But in my heart
That little boy will never be far…

So on this blessed day
There’s so much I want to say
But above all, I thank God
For the man that you are…

With a tender smile
And a twinkle in your eyes
I wrap you in my arms
And whisper this advice…

Be strong, be kind
Be patient and in time
You’ll find out, my son
What true love is all about

Be faithful and be true
Show love in all you do
Then you’ll know, just how
You make your mother proud

You’ve made your mother so proud…