Memoirs: Superpower


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Superpower is a new term for our modern times. These powers could be people with iron hands, flying people, people who are robots and what else!

My “superpower” lies in my natural consciousness of winning people over. I first would watch the cat in the tree before I would jump in and help it.

Some examples:

While still in school my parents started farming with Saanen milk goats. I began my own stud while still studying. My first two ewes/nanny goats were two wild as could be goats. Fresh from the field. Never been handled by humans.

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We lived near Pretoria on a smallholding. My Dad bought me two ewes from a farmer near Britstown. We had to go and pick them up, about a thousand kilometres from us. It was a good outing. We slept halfway and one night in Britstown, then straight back because we had the two animals in the back the UV.

The farmer brought the two ewes/nannies from the field the day before we arrived and locked them in the barn. When we had to load them,  there was no way that the two would let us catch them. My “superpower” kicked in and I approached them slowly. I talked placately to them. In the end, they came to me on their own, and I could hold them one by one so that they could be picked up and put into the back of the UV. The farmer couldn’t believe his eyes!

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The next was when I was looking for a house to buy.  The realtor agent and I got out of her vehicle. She warned: “Do n’t go in the back. There are two dogs.” She had made an appointment to meet with the owners ahead of time. They were not at home.

“We could just peek over the fence between back and front.” We did. We moved still in the front to the other side of the house.

Guess what appeared around the corner? A huge Rottweiler. He made no sound. Just walked and stood at the front door. Then all hell broke loose when we dared to go further. Dog number two stormed around corner barking feverishly.

The first dog also came menacingly closer.

The agent who was standing behind me made a beeline out the gate. I quietly stood still with my handbag as protection in front of me. As soon as I moved the dogs came closer growling. When I stopped, they’ll stop too.

The agent kept on: “Ineke, get out. Run! “

NO WAY, my  ‘super feeling’ said:” Run, and they will grab me.”

Inch by inch, I moved backwards. Each time calming the dogs.

It was a relief when I stood outside the gate, and the two were barking at us from behind the closed gate.

Afterwards, I was grateful that there had been no holes or bumps along the escape route. Can you imagine what could have happened?

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Then in today’s world, I deal with five-year-old children who don’t want to be at school, let alone early in the morning before school and afternoons too.

Sometimes, especially in the beginning, my “superpower” won’t kick in. I have to hold the child and speak in an angry voice: Don’t run after your dad or don’t go outside.

My last one at the moment is a little girl of five. She clung to her father and hiding behind him. I could see in her eyes how frightened she was. To make a long story short. My superpower won at the end. I’ve got her in my bag(pocket). She even now runs from the gate to me. Not even waving goodbye to her father. The first she’ll grab an iPad. I have to sit next to her and help her choose the right letters to make words. I have a terrible finger which frequently wants to type the wrong answers. Then it comes from her:”Naughty finger! Don’t you dare!”  She would chase him away and keep an eye on it so that it can’t be naughty again.

My Super strength is definitely in Courage, Cheerfulness and calmness of spirit.

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NEARLY READY TO GET PUBLISHED


Excitement in the Kruger household!

My little book of Memoirs is three days away to be printed for real!

Only one page to change and then it will be out into the wild world.

I’ll keep you informed!

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Cover page? Which one looks best?


At last!

I am nearly ready to print my book. It is going to be about my time still in the Netherlands. We immigrated to South Africa in the beginning of 1952. My sixth birthday happened on the ship. I remember a few snippets from my early time in the Netherlands.

I went back in 1974 to revisit my birthplace. What an adventure to see everything through the eyes of a grown up.

I would appreciate it if you could give me advise and comment on the two cover pages.

Which one looks the best?

What about the font of the writing?

Clear enough?

 

 

Remembrance


 

Like Jesus, every human being has enough memories in his past to occupy his time and thoughts continually. It is not the remembrance of these incidents but the reliving of them that creates havoc in our souls. Mother Angelica
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/remembrance.html

REMEMDER!

Main Entrance

Unbelievable! After 25 years, I am standing here, looking at the ruins of the rehabilitation centre.

The entrance is dilapidated. Seized with emotion, tears of affection roll down my cheeks. Deep within me, memories churn and tangle around. My thoughts are a vortex of anxiety, sadness, despair, and yet at the end victory.

January 2, 19 … Soft hands helped me up. The hands put me into the waiting vehicle. I felt tired, so tired and nauseous. I did not want to live. A soft voice kept on calming me down. The voice, soft and reassuring, kept on talking to me.

Up on the hill

It’s a long ride. Each turn made me feel as if  I were tumbling over the edge. Deep into the mountains and high on a hill the vehicle came to a sudden halt. The door opened. I fell out like a bag of potatoes from the vehicle. Again the soft hands and voice. People lead me into the building. It smelled of clean floors.  The smell of freshly cooked food sickened me. When did I last have a decent meal? I couldn’t remember. I had to get my bottle. What did I do with it? I got mad with anger. I trembled from head to toe. Strong hands took a firm hold on both my shaky arms. They took me through corridors and around corners. Suddenly I heard a door opening. In front of me a bed, a pillow and blanket. The hands pushed me down onto the bed. They left. I could not stop shaking. Everything faded away. I flopped, onto the bed.

Wall of single bedroom
Small room

Many days later I woke up. My head was still aching, but the shaking was gone. They transferred me to a dorm with eight other people. The room was airy and clean.  My roommates showed me systematically where everything was.

Dorm
Dorm
Down a pasage

I can remember that there were three wings each with passages and small single rooms and at the end of each a dorm with eight beds. The passages were divided into two wings, with a kitchenette and bathroom on both sides of the passage in the middle.The kitchenette had a kettle, some cups and a small fridge. We could make our coffee or tea which the hospital provided.

Small kitchen

There were small enclosures between the wings of the building. Inmates could sit outside and breathe fresh air. Everything was secured down. There was no opportunity for any escape.

Inside garden
Inside garden

As each person improved, they each gradually got more freedom.

A fully furnished recreation room provided hours of fun for the patients. Every person had some chores to do. Cooking, cleaning, gardening later. In the end, persons were led to live a better life again. After two years of rehabilitation, I could go back into the community, rehabilitated and well.  Clean of alcohol and drugs, and here I stand again, looking at the ruins of the hospital which I am going to enter in a moment from now. It hurts to look back at that time, but I am grateful for the soft voice and hands that brought me here that day twenty-five years ago.

Recreation room
Kitchen
Recreation room-lounge
Lounge
Lounge
Outside back door
Kitchen
Outside door
Outside back wing wall
Between two wings
Between two wings
Lounge outside door

I have taken all the photos. The hospital was locked and I had to take the photos through the windows.

Part two will be about entering the hospital and telling what could be seen, felt and remembered.

Childhood: Memoirs


About my life and past

I  always wanting to please others. I can’t stand up for myself and say what I think because I don’t want to hurt others. This is how it still is today  I feel I am always coming last.

I can’t remember much of growing up, only small events come up and then go again.

The ” It’s write easy” sessions every Friday helps me to get closure in my life.

I always had someone in my life that dominated me.

First, it was my father keeping me away from enjoying my life as a scholar. The first years while we were living in Pretoria and then in Erasmia, a tiny “dorpie” (village or small town) at first was quite good. I had a few best friends at school. They even came to my home to play, and I could go on a Friday afternoon and play at their places. The school had only four teachers, and we all played and learned as if we were a big happy family. My school work was of high standard and I also enjoyed the after school activities like “korfball” * and athletics. In my last year in primary education, I was the best girl athlete in school.  

Then came the bad years. We moved to a “plot”**, away from anything. When I look back on those years, we lived a life of going nowhere.  I did not have any friends during my High school years. There was no opportunity to make friends. I could not take part in any after school events because my father did not want to pick me up afterwards. (I understand it was difficult for him, it was out of his way to pick me up) My school work did not go well. I can’t remember if there was time for homework at all.

We did not have electricity at home. We still used candles. I had to get up early, help my mother to milk the goats and then off to school in the school bus that took about an hour to get to school.  Coming back by bus in the afternoons, I had to look after the goats while they were grazing in the fields.

I got more and more lonely. Nobody to talk to, nothing. At the end I passed high school every year, I don’t know how but I did. Those years were very hard years.

I appreciate it that my parents looked after me that well. I could actually never expand my way or use my ideas.  I was always criticised no matter what I said or did.

 

*https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Korfball

**http://www.dictionary.com/browse/plot

a small piece or area of ground:

a garden plot; burial plot.

a measured piece or parcel of land:

a house on a two-acre plot.