De familie Kersten in Volendam

My Postcard from Volendam to my parents in Howick was sent while on holiday in Holland during the August of 1987. We took Fred's mother with us and spent some special times with our Dutch relatives, particularly Oom Piet and Tante Grada. It was 5 years since we had last visited and we now had two little ones with us.

We did all the things you are meant to do while in Volendam; bought clogs for Shawni, had a tourist photo taken in traditional costume, ate all the treats like poffertjes, croquettes, bought cheese, Indonesian specialities and 'zoute drop', stopped at windmills and dikes and as I can see from my card, my patience was wearing thin having my mother-in-law for a months visit in France.

I wonder if I thanked Tante Grada enough for her kindness, hospitality and looking after Shawni and Barry for a day, so Fred and I could explore Amsterdam.

In my next letter to Mom, I wrote that we 'walked and walked', had chips and mayonnaise along the way, pottered along the canals of Amsterdam, climbed the stairs of the Westerkerk with its wonderful views across the city and explored the Jordaan where Fred was born and lived before emigrating to Rhodesia. We stopped at a 'brown cafe' to relax with drinks and cheese, apparently these pubs are called brown cafes because of the wood panelling which dominates the decor. I felt a bit awkward that I shared with Mom our visit to 'a rather unique museum i.e. sex museum.' Definite over share.

If I did not, thank you Tante Grada and I will ask Peter to pass on my gratitude.

Family time in Volendam with Oom Piet and Tante Grada, August 1987

The poster, the cutout and Cabaret at Theatre Mogador

I was wondering what I had done for my birthday while living in Paris during the mid-eighties.

It would have been the middle of summer in France with long, hot days, so different to here in Johannesburg at the moment. This last birthday has coincided with a particularly cold period and I have been curled up under quilts. 

So I found this letter, we went to the Theatre Mogador, to see 'Cabaret' for my birthday.

I seemed to have loved my evening out, the aperitifs, the live show and 'a famous Parisien "coupe", an enormous bowl of different flavoured ice-creams, chocolate mousse, cream and meringue with a nougat sauce - delicious!" 


Sounds wonderfully decadent and I would so enjoy a replay of this birthday from 1987.

My letter to Doreen written from Marly-le-Roi dated just after my birthday, on the 26th July 1987, is full of the latest news and I had sent her a poster from the Faberge Exhibition. I write about the 'craftsmanship' and I do have a recall of the exquisite bejewelled orange tree.

I am smiling as I read about the silhouette of Shawni that I sketched in the letter for my family back home in Howick. 

How dear, the little button nose, the hat with its ribbon and the gentle curve of her chubby baby chin.

She has the framed original with her in New Zealand and I know Shawni will love reading this blog about her silhouette.

We had gone into Paris to show Fred's mother the area around the Sacre Coeur and Montmatre. She was visiting from Zimbabwe.

The Place du Tertre in Montmartre has always been a hotspot for artists to gather and to do sketches and  portraits of tourists.

My weekly visits into Paris were a highlight during my few years in Paris, I would drop the littley's off at the Halte Garderie, plan my outing; which arrondissement, which museum, where to stop for coffee and maybe a lunch with Fred too.

During the week of my birthday I had explored the Muette Quarter of the 16th Arrondissement in Paris, visited the Musee Marmottan, well known for showcasing the Impressionist and Post-Impressionist paintings of Claude Monet, his 'Water Lilies" especially. Interesting comment that I made to Doreen in the letter that 'some aren't that pleasing to the eye.' I think it refers to his later works that become more and more abstract.

I have just remembered a series of photos that I have in one of my albums. They are of a portrait of me emerging from a canvas done on the same Place du Tertre but a few years earlier in 1981. The artist wearing a beret, as they should, bearded and just a little seedy, worked with remarkable speed and skill.

The black and white charcoal never made it back home, it was stolen along with my luggage on a train trip to Nice. Who would have thought that some years later I would be back on the Place du Tertre, this time with my daughter and another artist would do a quick black silhouette and capture another moment in our stories.

The artist certainly  did capture my eyes and the openness of my gaze. 

Opening my birthday cards

Technology has certainly stopped getting mail in its tracks.

But today I still had the pleasure of 'opening' my birthday card from Shawni and Craig in New Zealand.

Inside the envelope from Paperless Post is the card which is a fun drawing of one of my favourite birds, the California Quail with its quirky feather. Love it.

Thank you both.

DEAR MOM 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY! 

WISHING YOU AN EXCITING RUN UP TO YOUR 60TH YEAR! CAN'T WAIT TO SPEND XMAS WITH YOU GUYS HERE IN WELLINGTON. 

LOTS OF LOVE 

SHAWNI AND CRAIG

And this card brought me as much pleasure with its beautiful message. How wonderful that my children understand my passions, this bird image on the card is so well drawn. 

The joy of motherhood.

My Nan's dear little book

The dearest little book, a precious inheritance from Nellie Winifred Argyle

My mother's handwriting on the back of this photo of her mother, Nellie Winifred Argyle.

My Nan has been on my mind.

Her story and that of her ill-fated parents has been one of my great discoveries during this "Life in the Letters' project.

I have this little book in my lounge here at home and I peep into it regularly. It was gifted to Nan for her birthday, the 29th May in 1921, and she would have been 22 years old. I cannot make out the name of the person who gave it to her.

Doreen has this photo of Nellie as a little girl. It was taken by a photographer from Freshwater on the Isle of Wight. My mother wrote on the back of the photo, giving Nan's full name and birth date.

Nellie is so beautifully dressed, she is seated on an ornate chair on a shaggy rug and her little shoes peep out under her full dress. Her hair is in curls and she looks at the camera with slight surprise or maybe with curiosity.

Her life would change so radically, she would come to South Africa, separated from her mother because of the divorce and start a new life here.

The little book is a novel called Sir Roger de Coverley and has a few delightful illustrations. It has a cloth cover and was published by Sisley's of London who, charmingly, are "Masters of Beautiful Books"

This morning I read the foreword to Nan's book by Anthony Trollope.

It talks to me.  I too have a love for a book, the anticipation of a good read or just dipping into a book is a pleasure in itself.

I love that this little book is mine now, that when I see it I think of my early years with my Nan.
I treasure it.

Foreword:

"Book love, my friends, is your pass to the greatest, the purest, and the most perfect pleasure God has prepared for His creatures. It lasts when all other pleasures fade. It will support you when all other recreations are gone. It will last until your death. It will make your hours pleasant to you as long as you live." Anthony Trollope 

 'Anthony Trollope was one of the most successful, prolific and respected English novelists of the Victorian era.'

Playing scrabble- a family tradition

 Doreen and I had a game of Scrabble last night here at the Loft while Fred was watching rugby.

I have kept my Dad's board, it has a bag which Mom made, and the little fabric covered book (which I had made for her) filled with 3 letter words and pages full of tricky words using the 'j', 'q', 'x', 'z'. We still use both the book and the bag when we play a game.

Last night, while we were playing, I was chatting to Doreen that Scrabble has been part of the Wedderburn family tradition for more than four generations.

As a little girl I was aware of games being played by my grand-parents in the dining room at Kalkwal, the family farm, of an evening, using the paraffin lamps.

My folks played regularly and we joined in as we got older.

This scrap of paper is a gem. It's from the mid eighties and early nineties just before Mom died. Dad recorded some of the memorable, high scoring words like on the 16th December 1985 I scored 216 by placing 'relaxing' over two triple word scores. This score was trumped in a game between Mom and Dad during the May of 1992 by placing 'acquires' on two triples for a score of 221.

I got two opportunities to use all my letters last night and almost got to a score of 400. Dad notes two games where he played three full words and scored 361 in 7 rounds.  They had a high score of 434 in the March of 1987 while I was away in France.

Impressive.

How we appreciate these jotted notes that reflect our family passion for words, for scrabble and the pleasure of playing the game together.

I think it is appropriate to follow the tradition, I will start to jot down the memorable, high scoring games or words too, as we play here at the Loft.

Last night's killer game, I got all my tiles out twice!

Relationship news in Dad's little black book

There is something quite charming and also poignant about Dad's little black address book with its side bars about the people he and Mom knew.

He would jot down when he last saw them, or add some news and as they passed, cross out their entry.

I read this entry tonight next to the details for Liz Vale, which made me grin.

I remember Dad calling me all excited about having met a woman in the mid 1990's a few years after Mom had died, they had bridge in common.  She moved in with him and we were all pleased that he had found companionship.

This entry in his notebook is from December 1997, she had given him 'words and said she was moving out, "I agreed"'.

He writes, 'still friends but platonic only.' Nice to know Dad!

The note is then updated in the May of the next year, just to let the reader know that Liz is still hanging on, Dad's view is 'Keep as is, friend only.'

Liz has kept in touch with Dad all these years and every now and again pops in to see him in frail care.

Doreen and Dad with Liz Vale.

Creativity of Postcards from Morocco

In 2013, Barry and I in Morocco, feasting, cooking and taking in the wonderful atmosphere.

Original fibre art by Elaine Barnard.

Two women in the Marrakech Medina.

Yesterday I spent the day at the 18th South African National Quilt Festival in KwaZulu -Natal.

I was so taken with these masterful fibre art works by Elaine Barnard. Her creative mixed media Postcards took me straight back to my trip to Morocco in 2013 with my son Barry.

We had joined Peggy Markel for her iconic Culinary Adventure in Morocco spending time in Marrakesh, in the Atlas Mountains and in Essaouira.

The experience is summed up so well from Peggy's website:

"And most essentially, in Morocco, be prepared for a culture deeply imbued with a simple humanness that, as you contact it, cannot help but bare your own soul. Morocco: A Feast for the Senses offers the most complete experience of how cuisine and culture can bring a sense of expansiveness and appreciation to our lives. This rare and deeply satisfying journey asks the most of you – and will fill you with a kind of magic in return." Peggymarkel.com

If I was as creative as Elaine, the image I would chose to interpret is this photo I took of two women in the Marrakech Medina.

How I love the texture and the colours of the wall and doorway along the Derb la Jouich, the rustic furniture, the pattern in the grate, the women in traditional wear, feeling the cold, even though March in Morocco, for me, was more than warm enough.

They were so purposeful as they went about their daily chores.

Original fibre art by Elaine Barnard

Acknowledgment:

These two Post Cards are from a series of 6 created by Elaine Barnard called "Postcards from Last Spring 1-6". 

They are her original designs inspired from India and Morocco.

The pieces are on display at the 18th South African National Quilt Festival as part of the Fibreworks Exhibition.

Summer of 1987, a happy time

Monet's Garden and House in Giverney, July 1987

Our summer in Paris was in full swing.

Our house in Les Ombrage, Marly-le Roi was full of the coming and going of visitors and we were comfortable in the rhythm of living in France. I could shop and get by with my little bit of conversational French, I could move around with ease, and things felt familiar at last having lived in France for a year.

We maximised this summer of 1987, popping into Paris and St Germain-en-Laye, watching celebrations which the French do with such style.

Slightly further away, to the west of Marly was Giverney. I really loved my visits to Claude Monet's house in Giverney, particularly the yellow and blue kitchen which I have always coveted. These two colours have featured in my kitchen here at home too, a throw back to these visits.

The garden at Giverney is the highlight of any visit. My letter to Mom on the 16 July 1987, mentions these gardens; 'Quite beautiful especially the water-ponds and Japanese bridges, water lilies were in bloom and the garden was a riot of colour.'


The visit to the Bois de Boulogne with Shawni and Oma was another summer joy.

Just reading my letter brings back so many memories. The exhibits, Shawni swimming, riding the carousel, watching a puppet show, playing in the sandpit to find fossilised elephant teeth, all so wonderful.

I was even more excited than Shawni at the Babar exhibit.

'Babar the Elephant is a fictional character who first appeared in the French children's book Histoire de Babar by Jean de Brunhoff in 1931, and enjoyed immediate success'.

 Each elephant was about 10 inches and dressed by the top Parisien designers, elephants in Hermes scarves had me completely smitten.

I see Martie's travel plans were coming together too and she was due to visit in August. More on that in another blog.