Granny’s childhood….one

Hello All.
Jasmine and I have just come back from the beach.
I am frozen.
Thought you should know that.
Jasmine likes me again.

I had a day from hell.
I couldn’t even blog.
So….we won’t even talk about it.

I lay and tossed and turned until 2:30am this morning.
For some strange reason I started thinking of my childhood.
I thought I would tell a little about it.
Before Greatgran gets adept enough to find my posts!

When I was about eight my mother remarried.
Then she sent me to school in Hankey in the Patensie mountains.
Hankey was a small mining village.
It might still be there.
My mother told me she couldn’t get me into another school.
I reckon she lied.
I reckon she wanted some quality time with her new husband.
We have never talked about it.
I have no idea what they mined.
My feet are too cold to google.

The school was in danger of closing so they offerred free board and lodging if you sent your kid there.
I don’t remember the people I stayed with.
Probably because they were Afrikaans.
They spoke Afrikaans.
I didn’t.

The school was in the “town” hall.
Sub A to standard four were all together.
Everyone was Afrikaans.
Lessons were in Afrikaans.
Did I mention that I didn’t speak Afrikaans?
I don’t think I learned a thing.

The village was in a little valley.
I clearly remember the heat shimmering on the zinc roofs.
Hell that place was HOT.

The other thing I remember was my first encounter with prickly pears in the wild.
I,gaily, picked and picked and picked.
For the next three weeks I picked and picked and picked.
The thorns out of my fingers.
For some unknown reason I now have an aversion to prickly pears.

Two weeks before the holidays I went home for the weekend.
Threw a huge tantrum and refused to return.
My mother capitulated.
Strangely….she was able to get me into another school without any problem.
The honeymoon was over!