"This is unbelievable" - a cappuccino with Martie, Helbronner, Italy.

My early morning walk with Martie today got me thinking about the many special times we have shared, from young women in love, to young mothers raising our children and to our many travel experiences over the decades. Our day together in Chamonix in the August of 1987 is still a highlight, one of those rare perfect days.

I sent this Post Card from Chamonix in France to the family in Howick. It has the stamp from Helbronner on the Italian side of the French Alps and at 3428m, it was the highest point of our cable car ride. Mont Blanc (4807m) dominated this white wonderland as did the black needle like peaks, 'Aiguille du Midi'. It was the middle of summer in the valley and so cold at the top, we ordered cappuccino's and watched people ski.

Martie and baby Jess were visiting us in France and we had a action packed, remarkable holiday together. As Fred said, he had two wives and three children under three for a few weeks!

I remember the cable ride so clearly, the first time I had seen glaciers and glacial features, as I wrote, 'heaven for a geography lesson'. My letter to Mom once I was back home to Marly-le-Roi is still full of the wonder I felt.  Shawni was so dear, in her best 3 year old voice, she said "This is unbelievable."

We were all in awe of the scenery. Fred and I still use this expression when we are loving what we are seeing!

From my photo album: "Start of one of the most exciting days we have ever had"

One of my foodie highlights came from Chamonix too, Raclette, it is a semi-firm cow's milk cheese which is melted, served over boiled new potatoes with lots of ground black pepper, accompanied by small pickled onions and gherkins. The name comes from the French verb "racler", to scrape, because of the way the melted cheese is scraped off the block.

It has been far too long since I did a raclette evening so I think it is time for the Kersten's and Krone's to reminisce over this rather yummy melted cheese delight.

Life from the bed

Inel is spring cleaning at home in Cowra, Australia and found these two poignant journal entries.

The first entry is from the 24th of July 1998, she is writing while at the Westville Pavillion in Durban, having been to see Dad at St. Augustine's hospital; the second entry, is a year later, and Dad was driving to Kokstad to see her after the birth of Joss.

She and Guy have just been out to South Africa to see fathers' and family. And her visit to Dad in Amanzimtoti, is a visit to his bedside as she did 17 years ago.

I am so struck by these circles of life.

Inel's pen sketch of Dad in his hospital bed, day 7 after his massive stroke aged 69, already shows his weak right arm, bent at the elbow, passively at his side. His head supported by multiple cushions and the sheet crumpled at his waist.

It could be a sketch of him now, the stroke coming back to haunt him, leaving him immobile, his right side completely seized. The moustache is gone though as is the bulk around his chest and upper arms.

He did recover so well from this stroke, as can be seen from Inel's quick note that he is 90% back to normal. His 70th birthday celebrations were at Quantani on the Sterkfontein Dam and he surprised us all by walking the steep hill behind the chalets. He had so many wonderful independent years in his 5th floor apartment with its glorious views, he played really good bridge, he travelled extensively, spending special moments with us all while watching his family grow.

'It is now 6pm, he is settled watching cricket, SA vs England.'  Sport on TV is still a part of Dad's life. The remote lies on his bed, it is in easy reach of his good hand and he is able to keep an eye on the world.

Inel wrote 'he is in good spirits', and he still is after all he has experienced. He can still be driven crazy though by the noise, the staff and his fellow ward partners.

Ah, the circle of life.

Inel and Guy with Dad, looking delighted to see them both.

PostScript:

For Dad:

'...we cannot sift our histories alone. Somehow they must exist beyond ourselves.'

Extract: The Keeper.
Marguerite Poland

All about the Persian Carpets

My Kerman Afshar Persian Carpet, a special inheritance

Doing the Namaqualand 301km Ultra Walk dominated this last month but this morning I felt the pull of my Life in the Letters blogging.

It is a cool, overcast morning at the Loft. I had taken out my Dad's old, slightly rusty Document Folder and discussed it with Inel, it was still lying on the floor so I dipped into the contents over coffee.

My sisters and I have left the Document Folder here as it contains Dad's Will.

One of the folders got me excited, an envelop with Mom's writing, her record of purchasing her Persians!

And she loved her Persian Carpets.

The envelop has the original invoice and Certificate from Louis de Leeuw, of 147 Commisioner Street in Johannesburg, "The Most Respected Name in Persian Carpets"

The date is the 16th February 1971, over 40 years ago.

The folks had bought four persians. A small and large Mori Bokhara, a Baby Abadeh and an Afshar.

I immediately got sleuthing as I know nothing about Persians. Googling each of the carpet names I worked out that I have inherited the Kerman Afshar carpet.

I remember when I had it cleaned and refringed that the Persian Carpet dealer had remarked that it was a good quality wool carpet.

It is a beauty, it has pride of place here at the Loft and it defines the seating for TV watching. I particularly love the blue tones of the carpet and the warmth it creates in this cool, minimalist space.

How wonderful that Mom's careful record keeping has created such excitement and pleasure for me, I see my carpet with new and appreciative eyes this morning.

PostScript: 

'Around the city of Kerman in the southeast of Iran reside the semi nomads from the Afshar tribe. For hundreds of years these nomads lived in the northwest of Iran, but a part of the tribe were compulsorily transferred to today's area, where carpet manufacturing became an important branch of business.

The carpets have red and blue colour tones and mostly geometrical patterns.'