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One day at a time

 

English readers: scroll down a bit please. Ek is ‘n groot aanhanger van Country musiek and het die countrymusicartistfoundation co za gekry met die foto’s van ‘n paar legendes in Suid-Afrika se musiekwêreld van die (nie so ver) verlede. Nadat ek op twitter sommige mense se ‘tweets’ gesien het, het ek onthou van die mooi stem van Marie Gibson met ‘One day at a time’ en onthou hoe hierdie lied jou laat dink om die lewe ‘een dag per slag’ te neem. 

Sommige van my ‘volgelinge’ (Onderwysers – in alle kategorieë van die Onderwys) het ge-‘tweet’ oor hoe ‘alleen’ hulle voel en dan was daar selfs van hulle wat beskryf hoe hartseer hulle voel en in trane is – omdat hulle alleen is en voel. Dis ongelooflik waar dat baie mense, in hierdie tyd waarin ons leef, alleen is en alleen voel. Mense is alleen om verskillende (baie) redes.

Jy moet net nie dat die alleenheid of die gevoel van alleenheid die oorhand kry en jou tot drastiese stappe laat lei nie. Besig bly en jou aandag aftrek is belangrik. Gelukkig is daar baie mense wat op hierdie ‘tweets’ van mense reageer en hulle aanmoedig of wat positiewe boodskappe terugstuur en selfs offer om die dag/aand met hulle te spandeer. Meeste mense, wie se ‘tweets’ ek gelees het, spandeer die aand in hul huise met die heel naaste familie, slaap vroeg en staan vroeg op en raak besig. Waarom moet daar nou spesifiek ‘n verskriklike groot partytjie, met ‘n paar hondered mense wees? Is dit regtig nodig? Skep mense ‘n idee wat ander laat voel hulle moet dit ook doen anders is hulle ‘uit’ of laat hulle voel hulle is ‘alleen’?  Wat dink jy? O ja, Gelukkige Nuwe Jaar vir jou -wat hier lees – en ek hoop dat dinge vir jou ook positief sal uitwerk hierdie jaar en dat God jou sal seën!

I’m a big fan of country music and after reading some of my teacher-follower tweets, I remembered this song sung by a South African country singer – Marie Gibson. This song is about taking one day at a time.

Some tweets were about people feeling alone or lonely on a day like today. Luckily, many other of my followers encouraged them to be active, to do things and in this way, to get distracted by their thoughts of being alone.

My question is: do we need to have or attend parties of 50/100 people this time of the year? What is really important in your life? Many people tweeted about them just being with their closest relatives/family members, sleep early, get up and do the ‘normal’ things all people always do. This sounds great to me. Yes, we are all happy to start a new year. Yes, we are happy for everyone else for things that went well the previous year and for new resolutions and to get better at certain other things. But, do we have to attend this massive party  to ‘show’ it? Are we letting other people feeling ‘left out’ with what we share in public? It’s the same with photos being altered by all sorts of apps and you let other people feel that they are not as beautiful as you are – whilst your photo was actually being photo-shopped? I really think we need to think about what we try to achieve with what we share and think about other people’s well-being too. What do you think? Btw – Happy New Year to you and I hope you will be blessed by God and that you will have a positive year this year!

Joanna Field

Marie Gibson

Jody Wayne

Caroline Du Preez


I listened to about 3-4 different versions of this song on youtube and Barbara Ray’s is still the best!

These blacks are Afrikaans speaking and they grew up like Afrikaans-speaking people. These people are the silver threads of our society, they are the golden needles. They need to be treasured! Wish I could meet with them!

With this beautiful Afrikaans song about a Summer Christmas, I wish you a Merry Christmas 2018 and a very happy New Year! May you all be blessed!

These are the lyrics of this song, translated. This is the only song about Christmas in Summer. All countries in the Southern Hemisphere celebrate Christmas in Summer.

Enter in quiet peace filled night
beneath the Southern Cross
Lend now your ear this starlit night,
to whispers from the past.

Do you hear how softly the bells
are chiming, in ancient dialect
Even the evening’s starry silence,
on precious history reflects.

Can you also feel the warmth of His love,
as we celebrate the day
God loved us so much He sent his son,
no other gift as great.

CHORUS

Christmas nears, Christmas nears
Bow before the King
Grant by Your grace in this great land
A bright summer’s Christmas Lord.

Some more to enjoy – the music of Haydn. Piano concerto in D major – one of my favourites!

Herfs in November

herfsblare

English Readers: my poem about Autumn in November. In the Southern Hemisphere, Autumn is not in November, but in March/April.

Hierdie gedig is my jaarlikse bydrae tot Afrikaans, wat ek tot dusver  14 Augustus probeer doen het – wanneer dit Taaldag. Ek’s so bietjie laat daarmee hierdie jaar, maar liewer laat as nooit. 

Herfs in November

Herfs in November – in die Noorde – 
is soos roomys in die winter. Dit pas nie.

Jy loop rond in stofverwaaide strate
Onverskillig kyk jy rond na
‘n mengelmoes van kleure
Bondels hare waai rond in die wind
En om hoeke van geboue fluit ‘n skerp windjie
Beelde van veranderinge flits om jou verby
Verslawend staar jy na bloedrooi papawers
En jy onthou: dis November maand!

Soms onthou jy ook van die fyn blomme
en die spruit wat iewers voort bly kabbel
in die berge waar die bobbejane geel perskes vreet
Dan dink jy aan die bloekombome en vinke in die lusernland
Vae gedagtes van die kleigat drentel in jou geheue
En jy strompel geduldig verder oor verkleurde blare
En wonder oor die liedjies van die lente.

Versperde donker wolke hang laag in die skemeraand
Dikgeweefde herinneringe van die aandkrieke wat
hul betowerende liedjies op vioolnote sing
sink en omvou onmiddellik jou gedagtes.
In die agterkamers van jou geheue
onthou jy die rooskleurige grassade wat buig in die wind
en skielik hoor jy die swaeltjies se twitter terwyl hulle
die lang, moeilike vlug terug huistoe neem.
©Nikita 22-11-2019 19:10

Africa

Africa quote

Meryl Streep Robert Redford

If you haven’t watched this 1985s movie ‘Out of Africa’, then you really haven’t seen a great movie as yet. I’ve seen this movie about 4 times and then I even went so far to buy the DVD. In this clip: Flying over Africa. The setting is Kenya. If you’re from Africa, you are not born in Africa, Africa is inside of you. Africa never leaves you. Only if you were born in Africa, you know Africa what it is really like.

garden

With our visit to Scotland last week, we visited a few interesting places: The Palace of the Holyroodhouse, which is the official palace of the Queen in Scotland, Edinburgh Castle and the Cathedral at St Andrews. I’m sharing a few random photos. What I like about historic buildings, is to look at the structures and designs. It’s just amazing what time went into the design of these historical structures. 

IMG_9503

Edinburgh Castle

 

IMG_9529

Lots of visitors everywhere at the Edinburgh Castle.

IMG_9571

Near the Castle.

IMG_9573

Street musician – preparing for the Fringe festival.

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A flame entertainer – also preparing for the Fringe Festival.

The Holyrood Abbey alongside the Palace of the Holyroodhouse. This Abbey was built in the twelve century and in ruins since the eighteenth century.

Located at the bottom of the Royal Mile, the Palace of Holyroodhouse, also known as Holyrood Palace is the Queen and Royal Family’s official residence in Scotland.  The building itself being an architectural gem with impressive Baroque decoration.

During the Middle Ages the monarchy left the cold and damp Edinburgh Castle and settled in the comfortable Holyrood Abbey guesthouse. In 1503 James IV constructed the first palace alongside the Abbey. Many years later, James V built a tower where Mary, Queen of Scots lived between 1561 and 1567.

It wasn’t until a century later, from 1671 to 1678, that the Baroque palace was built as it stands today. It was designed for Charles II with the restoration of the monarchy. Presently, it is one of the most beautiful palaces in Scotland.

The Queen uses this palace for her official visits to Scotland. If the Queen is in residence, you cannot visit this palace.

St Andrews Cathedral

It was built in 1158 and became the centre of the Medieval Catholic Church in Scotland as the seat of the Archdiocese of St Andrews and the Bishops and Archbishops of St Andrews. It fell into disuse and ruin after Catholic mass was outlawed during the 16th-century Scottish Reformation.

 

Eleni

When I listened to this song – in this video – I knew there must be a ‘story’ behind this song and I started searching and then I found myself almost a whole day just reading and reading about the ordeal of Nicholas and his family. This was during the Greek civil war. WW2 was nearly at its end and then the people of Greece had to deal with a civil war. [I’ve put the video together after watching the movie (it’s in English) – see bottom of entry].

This next article was written in 1983 by Nicholas, whose mother was killed by some Greek guerrilla fighters when he was age 9 – just after WW2. This is a sad story. Nicholas and some of his siblings went to America to be reunited with their dad and he became a New York Times journalist. 

I also find the complete movie on youtube. I watched it and found myself shedding some tears at times by just the thought of what Eleni had gone through. Even just by reading this article – and make sure you read the complete article by following the given link.

This is the article by Nicholas Gage. 

This article is adapted from his book ”Eleni,” to be published by Random House later this month. On the road to vengeance … one discovers life. – Andre Malraux, ”Man’s Fate.” On Aug. 28, 1948, at about 12:30 P.M. on a hot, windless day, a group of women with firewood on their backs were descending a steep path above the Greek village of Lia, a cluster of gray stone houses on a mountainside just below the Albanian border. As the women came into view of the village below them, they encountered a grim procession.

At the front and rear, carrying rifles, were several of the Communist guerrillas who had occupied their village for the last nine months of the Greek civil war. They were guarding 13 prisoners who were walking barefoot to their execution with legs black and swollen from the torture called falanga. One man, too badly beaten to walk or even sit up, was tied onto a mule.

Among the prisoners were five people from the village: three men and two women. The older woman stumbled along with the fixed stare of madness. She was my aunt, Alexo Gatzoyiannis, 58 years old. The younger woman, with light chestnut hair, blue eyes and a torn blue dress, caught the gaze of the villagers and shook her head. She was my mother, Eleni Gatzoyiannis, 41 years old.

As the prisoners climbed the mountain, they passed a spring where a 13-year-old boy had stopped to drink. Soon, they disappeared over the horizon. A few minutes later, there was a burst of rifle fire, then single shots as each victim was finished off with a bullet to the skull.

When the guerrillas passed again on the way down, they were alone. The executed had been left in the ravine where they fell, their bodies covered by rocks.

Sixteen days later, when it was clear that the guerrillas were losing the war to the Greek Army forces, they rounded up every civilian left in the village and herded them at gunpoint over the border into Albania. Lia became a ghost town as the crows descended on the corpses left behind. A village that had been inhabited for more than 25 centuries ceased to exist. learned of my mother’s execution eight days after it happened, while I was living with three of my four sisters in a refugee camp on the Ionian coast opposite the island of Corfu. Seven months later, the four of us boarded a ship bound for the United States to join our father, who had been cut off from Greece by a decade of war and revolution. I was 9 when I saw him for the first time.

My mother was one of 650,000 Greeks who were killed during the years of war that ravaged the country from 1940 to 1949. Like many of the victims, she died because her home lay in the path of the opposing armies, but she would have survived if she had not defied the invaders of her village to save her children. I had been her favorite child, loved with the intensity a Greek peasant woman reserves for an only son. I knew that I was the primary reason she made the choices she did. No one doubted that she died so I could live.

Continue reading HERE on the site of the New York Times.

This next entry is from the blog of the wife of Nicholas Gage. I’ve copied only half of the entry and you can continue reading on the given link and see some photos of Michael’s visit too.

Michael Dukakis, who ran for the presidency of the United States in 1988 and was the longest-serving governor in Massachusetts history, arrived in the small northern Greek village of Lia last week on Aug. 24, causing great excitement throughout the country, and especially in Lia, where the village had been spruced up, pot holes filled, foliage pruned, and a heliport repaved to receive Dukakis’ entourage, (although the man himself chose to drive up the vertiginous mountain roads so he could see the countryside on the way.)

Dukakis’ maternal grandparents came from Vrisohori, another small and, until recently, isolated village not far from Lia. Although Mike and Kitty have visited Greece many times, they had never visited Northern Greece and his grandparents’ village. The couple, along with Kitty’s sister Ginnie and Ginnie’s husband, Al, used the Grand Serai Hotel in Ioannnina as a base. After a lavish dinner hosted by the Mayor of Ioannina, they left the next day to see Vrisohori where Sen. Dukakis, with tears in his eyes, lauded the village which had produced his mother Euterpe, who became one of the the first Greek-American women to earn a college degree. (The small village also produced the father of film director John Cassavetes.)

The next day, Monday, Aug. 24, the Dukakis group arrived in Lia to attend a memorial service for Eleni Gatzoyiannis, my mother-in-law and the mother of my husband Nicholas Gage.

Continue reading HERE about the visit at Eleni’s house.

Eleni

Eleni’s house today – after restoration by Eleni, the daughter of Nicholas, who took time out to go to the village where her grandmother, Eleni, was killed. The image is from the link below.

On this next link, you can read about Nicholas and his visit to the house and you will see quite a few photos of him in and around the house. 

https://arollingcrone.blogspot.com/2011/07/house-in-greek-village.html

Eleni – the complete movie.