An Old Irish Blessing ... May the road rise up to meet you.May the wind always be at your back.May the sun shine warm upon your face,and rains fall soft upon your fields.And until we meet again,May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

"It is said some lives are linked across time. There are certain people connected by an ancient calling that echoes through the ages....destiny."

Life is a fleeting moment. Why live life in moderation and control when it lasts so short a time. Love until you drown in the happiness, laugh until the air you breath escapes you, cry until your tears are dry and live like the next second death will take your soul. Life is yours to live, and live it you must, not in the fear of what is to come next. That Next Place is waiting for you. It waits, in the hope that you will come fulfilled and ready, not in longing and regret.

Thank You For Being a FRIEND!*°•.¸☆ ★ ☆¸.•°*”˜˜”*°•.¸☆♥Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵Ʒ..•°*"˜ ☆ ¸..•´¨¨)) -:¦:-.(ړײ)/       ¸.•´….•´¨¨)).«▓       ((¸¸.•´ ¸.•´.-:¦:-. ╝╚ ….. ... `♥♪♫-´¯

Wishing you a wonderful new week..Like little birds, we only fly when we get shaken out of our nests; and develop the strongest wings only when we try them against the wind. The dove in a fable, was perturbed because the wind ruffled its feathers, but without that air it could neither soar nor live. In struggle, it is prudent to not wish away every opposition. It is better to meet and master our difficulties that faith can be made stronger through conflict.~Leroy Brownlow~With much love allways

Monday, November 28, 2011



Each of our lives is like a painting and we are the master.
Each day and each act can be another stroke on the canvas.
If our hearts are in the right place, we will create something
of beauty that will touch peoples lives and be remembered.
Robert Duncan

Monday, November 21, 2011

Last Unicorn ...


Last Unicorn
When the last eagle flies over the last crumbling mountain.
And the last lion roars at the last dusty fountain.
In the shadow of the forest though she may be old and worn.
They will stare unbelieving at the Last Unicorn.
... When the first breath of winter through the flowers is icing.
You look to the north and a pale moon is rising.
It seems like all is dying and would leave the world to mourn in the distance.
Hear her laughter.
It's the Last Unicorn.
I'm alive

Friday, November 11, 2011

Don't Judge Life by One Difficult Season



There was a man who had four sons. He wanted his sons to learn not to judge things too quickly. So he sent them each on a quest, in turn, to go and look at a pear tree that was a great distance away.

The first son went in the winter, the second in the spring, the third in summer, and the youngest son in the fall. When they had all gone and come bac...k, he called them together to describe what they had seen.

The first son said that the tree was ugly, bent, and twisted. The second son said, “no – it was covered with green buds and full of promise”. The third son disagreed; he said it was laden with blossoms that smelled so sweet and looked so beautiful, it was the most graceful thing he had ever seen. The last son disagreed with all of them; he said it was ripe and drooping with fruit, full of life and fulfillment.

The man then explained to his sons that they were all right, because they had each seen but only one season in the tree’s life.

He told them that you cannot judge a tree, or a person, by only one season, and that the essence of who they are and the pleasure, joy, and love that come from that life can only be measured at the end, when all the seasons are up.

If you give up when it’s winter, you will miss the promise of your spring, the beauty of your summer, fulfillment of your fall.

Moral: Don’t let the pain of one season destroy the joy of all the rest. Don’t judge life by one difficult season. Persevere through the difficult patches and better times are sure to come some time or later.

~ Author Unknown

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Ouma ...

So many years ago a special girl was born this day,
she grew up to be a strong woman,
a sheep farmer's wife,
a mother to her own and her sister's child,
a grandmother to me, special times we had many,
lessons learnt by listening and following in her foot steps and her ways,
there was nothing she could not do if she wanted too.
still loved and remembered very fondly to this day.
she left this place too soon.

Friday, April 30, 2010
Gemmerbier en Oumas

Kyk wie kon nou better Gemmerbier make as my Ouma, niks was fout met haar hande nie. Now die storie is oor Gemmer bier wat ons daar by Pelgrimsrus gekoop het in sukke mooi pottery bottels. Die kinder was nog baie klein toe, so dit is baie lank terug. Maar ek onthou dit was in die somer en ons het so lekker daar rondgeloop en alles bekyk. Gemmerbier gekoop en in die kar se boot gesit, hmmm die bier het warm geword en die proppe het begin skit ... watter gemors hoor.

Dit was wonderlik om so baie tyd saam met my Ouma en Oom Dan te kom spandeer, sommer maande op 'n slag. Oom Dan het aan bom skok gely en Ouma het vir haar broer gesorg. Saam het hulle meer as 'n akker groente en vrugte bome versorg, rye wit mielies jy kom wegkruipertjie speel. Sy was 'n regte boeretannie, so sterk soos 'n os met 'n hart van goud. Ouma het geglo 'n vrou se handed moet besig bly. Oupa hulle het vir jare met skape geboer daar anderkant Vryburg maar nadat hy oorlede is het Ouma koshuis moeder geword.



Later koop sy 'n huis met die groot erf in Paris. Dis nou Paris in die Vrystaat. Dis waar ons gebak en brou het , regte botter in die glas bottel gemaak het, hoenders gevoer en eiers gaan soek, gehelp verre pluk as sy hoenders slag. Skaap slag was geen problem en as alles verby is dan maak sy lekker kerrie afval. Sondag na kerk was daar skaap boud met vars aartapples van die tuin. In die kerk mos jy stil sit anders kry jy nie 'n pepermintjie wat sy in haar handsak gebere het nie. Ouma het self biltong gemaak strepsakke vol, dan bere sy dit daar onder in die kombuis kas langs die droe vrugte. Ouma het my geleer hekel, skeef en krom, maar vandag kan ek vir my kleinseuns hulle eie bersies maak. Daar in my kis is nog ouma se knie kombersie +- 50 jaar oud en 'n resepte book wat ek by my ma vasgele het (nadat sy begin resepte inplak)

Maar die memories is nog by my en ek weet Ouma glimlag van daarbo. Ek het altyd daar op haar bed gesit en my verkyk hou sy daardie lang swart/grys hare uitkam en dan vleg totdat dit dun raak. More word die hare in 'n bollatjie gemaak en sy trek een van baie voorskote aan, reg vir nog 'n dag. Ek was 13 jaar oud en haar enigste kleinkind toe Ouma rustig in haar slaap oorlede is.

Ek het soveel mooi memories van my Ouma Mimmie, dinge wat sy gedoen het, my geleer het en gewys het wat tot vandag toe by my is. Ek hoop om eendag die selfde vir my Kleinseuns te kan betekken wat Ouma vir my was. Miskien was daar iemand anders in julle lewe met die selfde invloed op jou. Kom vertel 'n bietjie.

Until Nexttime
Rina

Trapped Like a Bird ...



trapped like a bird in a cage
limited to living between those wire walls
keeping you behind the wire bars
the door is open and you'r not free
free to go where you want to go
free of the chain around your ankle
so you make the best of it
you keep them entertained
instead of sitting in a corner
feeling miserable with it all
tomorrow it might be different
tomorrow you might be free