Must admit - a much better competition against each other than what they did against us ! :thumbs:

Someone following it ?

The prospects for Formula 1Â’s mooted return to South Africa appear to have taken a step forward with the involvement of an investment firm named African Renaissance Holdings (ARH), which has joined forces with the group putting together the bid. Read more here

Eischhh a non-convincing win against the Bay Of Plenty ... nearly had Plenty to explain afterwards ... :yikes:

Beeld-Deurloop: Christina Lobese en die wit man wat sorgBeeld-Deurloop: Christina Lobese en die wit man wat sorg

Cecile Cilliers
Christina Lobese is die ma van drie, jonk, hardwerkend en eerlik. Sy probeer haar kinders ordentlik grootmaak en werk met dié doel as skrop-en-poetsvrou.
Sy't uit die Oos-Kaap hierheen getrek en woon net hier anderkant in Masiphumulele, 'n uitgebreide nedersetting wat vinnig besig is om uit sy nate te bars.

Toe ek uit Gauteng Kaap toe gekom het, het Sus Polla Christina hier aangebring om een dag 'n week my huis te versorg, soos sy ook vir Sus Polla en twee van háár kinders doen.

Maar hoe het dit gebeur dat ons as werkgewende familie skynbaar totale verantwoordelikheid vir Christina en háár gesin moet aanvaar?

Ek leen nie geld nie, want ek is nie 'n bank nie. Hoeveel keer herhaal ek die frase en ek hou daarby.

Maar as Christina kom kla sy kan haar begrafnispolis nie bybring nie en die bank dreig om dit te kanselleer, ry ek ewe gedwee bank toe en loop betaal die agterstallige geld.

En as Christina huil-huil loop vertel dat die vrou op wie se erf sy plak, dreig om haar uit te sit, en dit in die hartjie van die winter, ry Polla se prokureurskind Masiphumulele toe om saam met die plaaslike verteenwoordiger van die munisipaliteit dinge te gaan uitsorteer.

Baie dreigemente later word Christina toegelaat om een maand - net een maand - langer in haar opslaanhut aan te bly.

Met ons almal se beloofde geldelike hulp reël Polla se kind dat Christina 'n eie grondjie bekom waar sy 'n mate van sekuriteit sal kan ervaar.

Slegs om te hoor dat die betrokke verkoper die grond van die regering present gekry het en dat hy dit nie mag verkoop voordat vyf jaar verloop het nië.
Intussen bly Christina op die kwaai vrou se werf plak en die winter kom met sy nat en sy koud en die geld wat sy aan Pep Stores skuld vir die kinders se winterklere moes sy aan haar ma in die Oos-Kaap stuur wat haar werk verloor het en nou sonder enige heenkome sit.

En al leen ek nie geld nie, betaal ek maar wat op die lay-by geskuld word, want ek kan nie toesien dat die kinders koud skool toe gaan nie.
Of so koud slaap nie, so ek koop Saterdag 'n verwarmer op spesiale aanbod en gee dit vir Polla om vir Christina te gee want sy werk Maandae by Polla en eers Woensdag vir my en dan kan hulle darem Maandagaand al warmer slaap.
Dis skielik baie koud en nat en haar huis lek glo.

En toe bel Polla Maandag om te sê Christina is baie bly oor die verwarmer, maar sy wat Polla is kan nie meer by my kom koffie drink nie, want Christina gaan nou definitief uit haar huis gesit word en sy kan iewers anders gaan plak, maar hoe neem sy haar elektriese meter saam, want krag moet sy hê, veral noudat sy die verwarmer ook het.

En nou moet Polla Muizenberg toe ry na die elektrisiteitskantore toe om te hoor hoe dit gedoen moet word en of dit regtig R220 gaan kos soos haar eie elektrisiën voorspel.

Dankie tog, Christina is by jou vandag en nie by my nie, sug ek.
Maar Polla sien net donker vorentoe. Jy sal seker Woensdag moet help trek, sê sy.

My vriend Koos was sendeling in die Oos-Kaap, praat Xhosa vlot. Hy lag net as ek en Sus Polla kla. Op julle voorkop, sê hy, staan daar geskryf - Umlungu - die wit man wat sal sorg.

you should tell mcamp what a wonderful game it is

Upon watching our old dog mourning her kennel mate, a friend said to me one day, "Oh,Kath, they're just animals, they don't grieve."
Those who know me recognize there's no such thing as "just animals" in my lingo. Them's fightin' words.

Most all the beloved animals on our ranch have lived to ripe old ages leaving us to mourn their quiet demise. We've been mighty lucky to escape predator carnage on our mountain. Oh, coyotes and foxes have showed up near Duck Soup Pond now and then, but upon confronting Mother Goose's impressive wing span, the coyotes gave up and retreated. The foxes have scattered an occasional duck nest and helped themselves to eggs, but gratefully, our good and faithful dogs have bushwhacked the scoundrels.

Recently, though, something has been walking off with our ducks, one at a time. 'Twas an abduction that not even our guardian, Corky, had been able to thwart. What's worse, the culprit managed to escape with our beloved old Mother Goose!
She and her mate, Mr. Toulouse, had resided at our pond since the day they were hatched and hitched over 20 years ago. They practiced what many don't in this day and age, promising to love and care for one another forever.

The immediate neighbors were troubled over the loss of our waterfowl, referring to the Toulouse couple as "a regular institution." They readily volunteered in the search, arrest, and prosecution of the marauder.

Since we hadn't seen foxes lurking around for a year, I tossed them off my top ten assassin's list. Wiley Coyote was next, and the local sow bear bit the dust after breaking and entering a neighbor's freezer. I scratched the lone wolf, for he departed after a well-aimed bullet rocketed over his head. Could it be a bobcat, cougar, or even a mountain lion? My closest neighbor's dogs were not even a thought, nor the radio-collared retrievers up the road.

Finally, in the midst of a wicked spring storm, I spotted a huge yellowish flash burrowing under the fence in deep snow and vanishing in a cloud of white. We didn't have to wait long, for upon stepping outdoors one day, Corky stopped to sniff and growl. Contemplating another seizure, there was the yellow thief sloshing through the pond threatening waterfowl. He fled the scene after several blasts of my earsplitting air horn, this time his M.O. and attire unmistakable.
The mystery was solved.

Our local Game Warden was kind enough to chat with the dog's owners, but didn't have the authority to take drastic steps. His threat didn't take, for the bandit still ran at large. So, I wrote a polite, but no-nonsense message, to tether their brute or deal with the County Animal Warden and a court date.
The St. Bernard/cross hasn't been seen since.

The unrelenting gander has frantically honked and searched every nook and cranny for Mother Goose for two weeks. More than twenty undisturbed years had kept the Toulouses healthy and content. Forever alert, the pair had guarded our home and hearth and all that
live nearby.

Our hearts ached watching this good and loyal friend so dreadfully lonely and unhappy.
When feeding the waterfowl the other evening, I noted the old gander floating in the water with his head tucked beneath his wing. He was unresponsive to his favorite grains and I feared his grief was affecting his appetite.

No matter the size or intellect of our beloved pets and ranch friends, they do grieve. Nobody will ever convince me they don't.
The following morning I found him alone and cold under our deck. His heart had broken.

We saw it with our dogs and kitties, our donkeys, and now our waterfowl. Nonetheless, our birds and beasts kindle glorious memories.
"And so, I bid a fond farewell old friend. Rainbow Bridge and your dear old Mother Goose await, for rest and peace are yours forevermore."

~ Kathe Campbell

(Kathe and her husband, Ken, live on a 7000 ft. western Montana mountain.)

Some blue tits have laid eggs in the nesting box in the tree above our driveway and they have hatched. It is so cute hearing the chicks cheeping while their parents are away, and then if you make a noise, they go tjoep still. I can imagine them thinking "Shhhh! Don't say a word! "like in that pasta advert with the pandas :haha:

I ran into a stranger as he passed by.
"Oh, excuse me please" was my reply.
He said, "Please excuse me too;
Wasn't even watching for you."

We were very polite, this stranger and I. We went
on our way and we said good-bye.

But at home a different story is told, How we
treat our loved ones, young and old.

Later that day, cooking the evening meal, My son
stood beside me very still.
When I turned, I nearly knocked him down. "Move
out of the way," I said with a frown. He walked away, his little heart broken. I didn't realize how harshly I'd spoken.

While I lay awake in bed, God's still small voice
came to me and said,
"While dealing with a stranger, common courtesy you use,
But the children you love, you seem to abuse.

Look on the kitchen floor,
You'll find some flowers there by the door. Those
are the flowers he brought for you.
He picked them himself, pink, yellow and blue.
He stood quietly not to spoil the surprise, And
you never saw the tears in his eyes."

By this time, I felt very small
And now my tears began to fall.
I quietly went and knelt by his bed;
"Wake up, little boy, wake up," I said.
"Are these the flowers you picked for me?"
He smiled, "I found 'em, out by the tree.
I picked 'em because they're pretty like you.
I knew you'd like 'em, especially the blue."
I said, "son, I'm sorry for the way I acted today;
I shouldn't have yelled at you that way."
He said, "Oh, Mom, that's okay.
I love you anyway."
I said, "Son, I love you too,
And I do like the flowers, especially the blue."

Are you aware that:
If we die tomorrow, the company that we are
working for could easily replace us in a matter of days.
But the family we left behind will feel the loss
for the rest of their lives.
And come to think of it, we pour ourselves more
into work than to our family - an unwise investment
indeed.

So what is behind the story?
You know what is the full word of family? FAMILY =
(F)ATHER
(A)ND
(M)OTHER,
(I)
(L)OVE
(Y)OU
It is worthwhile to share more time with them as
they are getting older.

Make balance among all things.

-- Unknown

Since there have been no posts in this forum for a month, I thought I'd post this one here.

My Beloved Pet,

The dishes with the paw print are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Please note, placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.

The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack. Beating me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn't help because I fall faster than you can run.

I cannot buy anything bigger than a king sized bed. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue sleeping on the couch to ensure your comfort.

Dogs can actually curl up in a ball when they sleep. It is not necessary to sleep stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space is nothing but sarcasm.

For the last time, there is not a secret exit from the bathroom. If by some miracle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, bark, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open. I must exit through the same door I entered.

Also, I have been using the bathroom for years -- canine attendance is not mandatory.

The proper order is kiss me first, then go smell the other dog's butt. I cannot stress this enough!

To return the kindness of your obedience, my dear pet, I have posted the following on our front door so visitors to our home know the rules:

Rules for Non-Pet Owners Who Visit and Like to Complain About Our Pets

1. They live here. You don't.

2. If you don't want their hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture. (That's why they call it "fur"niture.)

3. I like my pets a lot better than I like most people.

4. To you, they are animals. To me, they are adopted children who are short, hairy and walk on all fours. Although they don't speak clearly, they communicate extremely well, especially my cat.

5. Dogs and cats are better than kids. They eat less, don't ask for money all the time, are easier to train, usually come when called, never drive your car, don't hang out with drug-using friends, don't smoke or drink, don't worry about having to buy the latest fashions, don't wear your clothes, and don't need a gazillion dollars for college. Also, if they get pregnant, you can sell the children!

Confused on this one - have been advised to cut out dairy products, not having a problem with that other than missing my cheese. A friend has said that goat's cheese is not "dairy" and is allowed. Any ideas? Is the process of making goats cheese different to cheese from cow's milk?