The Dell

Aside from the aging population and resultant economic challenges, and any crippling  ill health, I am all for living a long life.

I think that we underestimate the value of old people. Their experience is invaluable. From business to marriage to history – well, life really.

We tend to think that what we are experiencing a emotinally brutial break up for the first time. And it is the first time for you. So there is no denying the importance of such an event. And the toll that it takes on you.

But ask someone older and if you are able to listen in the midst of your pain, you will hear that you will survive this. And that the lessons you will have learnt will be with you, to strengthen you, for the rest of your life – so that you can pass on the wisdom to someone younger.

It is of no use to be a proponent of living longer if we keep putting the elders into care homes that act as waiting rooms for the grim reaper.

We need to involve our elders in as many ways as possible in the society and community. And we need to encourage the young to engage with this enormous untapped well spring of experience.

And don’t think that because someone was a business owner or leader many years ago that they may be irrelevant. They may not be au fait with AI and the rest of technology in business, but they will know all there is to know about customers and managing staff and giving the best service. They call these skills ‘soft’.

These are real skills.  And the aged know them all – tried and tested.

If we are all supposed to live lone lives, then let there be a younger generation that realises the depth and wealth of knowledge that the elders have. And engage freely with that knowledge.

Any vehicle in the British stable.

Or, that was made by the British – and may or may not, now be made by a plethora of obscure manufacturers, much to my despair.

The British marques like Rolls Royce, Bentley, Jaguar and Aston Martin- just to name my choices.

There is nothing quite like the power of the long, low swung E-Type Jaguar with spiked wheels in red or a soft blue. A gentleman’s sports car.

The majesty of the Rolls Royce Silver Wraith. Stately and solid but a pleasure to be driven in. The feeling is quite royal.

There is nothing much as special as the Bentley Arnage. Luxury to please the most discerning traveller, and with enough horsepower to leave all the rest standing.

The Bond Aston Martin. Not a luxurious car, but a car with a mission. Fast cornering and impressive speed. And leading looks.

The gentle and sophisticated art of motoring is nowhere more evident than in the British marques. It is as if discerning travel was born in England.

I have words. And a head full of stories – real stuff as well and the imaginative lives thar I create – mostly for myself.

I do sometimes despair that I will overwhelm my brain with all that happens in that grey matter.

I, also, refuse to believe that the matter is grey. Life doesn’t allow for a dull and pale- and not interesting- blob to hold all that one feels and thinks. It must be a kaleidescope of colours, pale and bright, as well as bubbles and lights and stars, and excitement and joy, with the occasional muted colours of harder, sadder times. And that is just on a normal day!

On the days of engaging on the creative sidr, the world inside explodes with fireworks and deep, moving music and the words start marching onto a page. And the creative juices swirl and twirl in ecstatic meaning and purpose.

And a story begins.

Well, I must admit that nothing stands out in the year I was born- except, that is, that I was born. A fire horse and a Virgo.

I am the eldest of 4 children so in the year of my birth a family was started. What was to become a big family with personalities as diverse as the mountains and the bush.

The year I was born brought monumental change to my mother, who experienced the abject panic of all first time mothers, and my father, who understood, most keenly, the responsibility of taking care of a family.

That year Christmas was celebrated in terms of a child’s Christmas. All lights and trees and gifts and, of  course the introduction of Father Christmas. A legend that would remain in the family until our youngest subling became wise.

For me that year was all important as I surveyed what was to become my world, my reality and would hold all the dreams I would still have. I met some people that year that I still know, and there is comfort in someone knowing you for your whole life. I speak of the non family families.

My world was to turn out to be diverse and challenging and glorious and warm and hard and loving. My life.

And because of all this that year is to be gratefully celebrated.

And my mood!

Yes. I see wild animals regularly. In South Africa there are many opportunities to see the glorious wild life we have here. Anything from warthog to cheetah to giraffe to eland to lion and leopard.

There are many lodges here that offer what we call game drives. These are outings into the game reserves in an open vehicle. The vehicles are driven by brilliant rangers who are expert in their field and in the area. They also have a riffle in case of the unexpected. And this is the bush so anything can happen.

The nature to be experienced is awe inspiring. Birds and mammals and reptiles are in abundance.

Having seen the majestic elephant herds you will be changed forever.

You get to see and be close to wild animals in their natural habitat and it is a great privilege. And one that I am deeply grateful for.

I have learned to. And as I have grown older I have come to see what pain I would have saved myself if I had listened earlier.

Although, there is a whole lot of fun that I would also have missed had I listened. And I must thank my myriad of guardian angels for these saves.

I was taught to be nice. And polite. To respect my elders. Smile. Be friendly. And these manners were drummed into us at home and at the church school I attended. I am the first born so with that the pressure to be perfect was huge.

And my instinct may have wanted me to parachute out of jobs and situations, but I listened to other’s voices.

I have made it a very firm rule in life not to rue my mistakes but to learn from them and then move on. So I have forgiven my listening to other’s voices and moved on.

I started listening to my gut feel and my life changed for the better. This was only after some self-convincing that I could be trusted to look after myself. And did not need to always be nice. I bet on myself. 

And won.

I live in a small town in the middle of the country’s wine producing area. A perfect place for a foodie and a wine enthusiast.

There are many places here that I enjoy being at. From wine farms to fine restaurants.

My favourite place would be Le Lude. And the Orangerie at the tasting room.

Le Lude specialise in Cap Classique Sparkling Wine, which is made in the classic method used in the production of that original, delicious bubbly, Champagne, France. We call it sparkling wine here as Champagne is a protected name as it refers to the area in France where champagne is produced.

The sparkling wine, I call it bubbles,  is delicious and of a very high standard at Le Lude. And much loved by us.

The estate is found in a spot with a magnificent view of the mountains, lush with trees and a magnificent rose garden. The shade of the trees is dappled and provides a magnificent canopy for sipping bubbles and dining on very fine food.

Inside you can sit in a light filled black and white, with touches of green, dining room. The green is added by many hanging plants.

Visiting there always gives me a sense of calm. It is ordered with the softness of the bubbles, trees and roses. Genteel and welcoming, always.

Never the coffee!

The rest may be negotiable. Like setting the alarm the night before- and calculating just how many hours you will get to la-la.

Checking my daily ‘to do list’. Also, something I can, on some days, do without. I don’t want a ‘ to do list’.

Sorting laundry – what if you could get the inhabitants of the home to sort their own whites and colours? In my household, that would be nothing short of a miracle. So the laundry sorting will stay in the routine. Unless…

I could employ some industrious fairies to prepare the dinner – the thinking of what, and how, and the initial niggly bits. I could very easily, and routinely, put it all together and serve up a delicious meal.

Many thoughts are running through my brain about how to shorten, sweeten or avoid my routine.

What a life it would be to wake up every morning without an alarm clock jangling in my ear. And to survey the time stretched ahead of me, like virgin snow, knowing that it was completely my choice where to put my footprints.

But never the coffee!