Momentous moments
Which moments count the most? I lay on my side, curled up like a child under the duvet. A partridge cackled loudly outside, probably in the field of sacred basil […]
Which moments count the most? I lay on my side, curled up like a child under the duvet. A partridge cackled loudly outside, probably in the field of sacred basil […]
Today’s blog is wordy. It’s in two parts. The first section is about a little girl who loved words. Sadly, she lost her world of words somewhere between marriage,
Putting it in words It’s hard to put our experience at the Franschhoek Literary Festival (FLF) into words. It was an explosion of the senses. Perhaps I could liken it
An explosion of the senses at the 2026 Franschhoek Literary Festival Read More »
Do we call it reckless or is it just a matter of unbridling? ‘I lay awkwardly on my back, a mound of red dirt piled up around my head where
Unbridling at the Franschhoek literary festival Read More »
Unbridling at the Franschhoek Literary Festival Mom and I are honoured and humbled that our book has been included in the line-up for the 2026 Franschhoek Literary Festival (15 –
Franschhoek Literary Festival here we come Read More »
Everyone is a story The above image shows me standing in front of a bookshelf during the recent Commonwealth Games GAPS Programme in Stellenbosch. As a kid, I preferred to
Moms, Memoirs & Meringues – everyone is a story Read More »
Looking ahead Last week a few athletes joined us for a training session at the track in Kutama Sinthumule. We are busy preparing some of the Limpopo Province’s para-athletes for
Opening up in 2026 So here we are. A new year. Opening up a new page in life’s diary. New: When I ponder on the word ‘new’, my nose fills
Track training and some hot news A forgotten track in Kutama West of the small town of Louis Trichardt and the area known as Schoemansdal, between the Soutpansberg Conservancy, Lesheba
Track training in kutama Read More »
Competing or completing? A single vleiloerie (Burchell’s coucal) piped lyrically from somewhere in the undergrowth. The rain bird, they call it. I was in Plettenberg Bay for a week and
Competing or completing Read More »