Tiled with memories.

About 15 years ago my mom went to an auction and she bought a job lot of odds and ends for about R5. If I remember correctly there was one small item in the box she wanted and the rest she wasn’t really interested in.

I spotted this tile and immediately felt it had good luck connected to it. I asked her if I could have it and ever since I have kept it on the wall in my bathroom and I don’t know if it brings good luck - I just like it a lot.

About 12 years ago when we suddenly had to move house we bought a house on the spur of the moment. While we were moving in we had this dreaded feeling of doubt, had we made the right choice?

After we had been in the house for about a week, I went to the tap which is situate in the backyard next to the servants room when I noticed this tile against the wall. It instantly made me feel that this was a sign that we were meant to be here.

Excuse the condition of the tile but it has been exposed to the elements for many years. The reason that this tile was so significant to me is that this exact design was in our bathroom when I was a child. I would love to know what the name of the design is. If anyone knows I would really like to know.

A day to be enjoyed.

My father would have been 71 today. I am so relieved he is not here to spoil the peace and quiet. If you think my words are harsh just imagine what it is like to have a violent tyrant for a father.

The local bakery.

My relationship with my father was always rocky but I remember when there was a period when things went well for a while. My fondest memory of that time was of him rising early on Saturday mornings. I was still at school so I would stay in bed until he returned. He would go to the butchery and the bakery.

Then he would return home with a huge brown paper bag stacked to the brim with fresh bread.

The most awesome fresh bread smell would fill the whole kitchen. We would make strong coffee and each would delve into the bag. Some of us would have crispy rolls and margarine or cheese scones and biltong or a piece of fresh apple pie or rye bread with tomato and cheese or Portuguese loaf with peanutbutter and jam.

Later on in the day we would have French loaf and soup for lunch or raisin loaf with coffee or deliciously hot pies. There would also always be a large box of custard slices and cream tarts and éclairs for my mom.

Sadly, by the time I matriculated and left my hometown the bakery had closed. It is such a pity that one of the best things of my childhood does not exist anymore.