Country Mouse of City Mouse?

The absolute stress of moving home.

The first home move we ever had to endure was from Zimbabwe to South Africa, that was in 1973 when there were no cell phones, no computers and certainly no internet.  In fact, when I think about it, we did not even have a telephone at home.

A stroll down the road to the ticky box (public telephone), a few calls and the next day several polite and well dressed employees of the different packing and moving companies arrived with pens and papers to give us quotations.

After careful assessing, the relevant paperwork was handed over with all the details and costs easy to understand and no fine print hidden at the back of the pages.  One, two, three – eeny, meeny, miny, moe, close your eyes and wherever the pen lands, is who will be doing your move.

Mention must be made that as I did not have a motor vehicle or bicycle (just as well about the bicycle as I have a habit of falling off the things); it was up to shanks pony to get myself from A to B.  As always, with sensible shoes afoot, off I toddled in the early morning coolness to the local municipal buildings where it was a simple matter of filling out one form, arranging when the electricity meter was to be read, a hearty farewell from the young lady behind the counter, a quick stop at the grocers for a few things and back home to welcoming cats and dogs.  

The next step in this great trek was to make the decisions of what to take, what to give away and what to abandon.  Zimbabwe in those long ago days of struggling to see who in the end would win was not an easy place to leave, as the government of the time, lead by Ian Smith, was trying it’s hardest to prevent folk taking all their assets when they emigrated to distant lands,  (alright, alright, in our case across the border.)  Our allowance was Rhodesian $2000.00 cash and goods combined, even in those days it was not a lot.

We were not able to take the car, but with careful planning and sorting out the favorite pieces of furniture, books, records and personal things, all was loaded onto the truck.  The animals, two cats and two dogs were taken to the local kennels for a four week quarantine period before being flown to Johannesburg.

We spent our last few days in Zimbabwe with my parents and then boarded the train bound for South Africa, each with one suitcase and Rhodesian $500.00 between us. 

In so many ways, although many possessions had to be given away or sold, this was an easy and straight forward move; simple times tend to make for simple things.

The next moves were more straight forward as there were no borders to cross or mountains of paper work to be dealt with.  As our family grew with children and pets the moves got more stressful, we had to start looking for homes that would be close to childcare and school facilities, in safe neighborhoods and close to all other public amenities.

 

We moved for various reasons, work, needing to change schools for the children, bigger home needed, smaller home needed, until in the end both children were comfortably settled in the own nests with their own nestlings to look after.

Off to the country Ray and I went, what bliss, long walks on dusty quiet roads with a dog and a stick for company.  Solitude that I was able to blast with classical and country music or peace found under a coral tree in the quiet shade of a sunny afternoon.  To me in so many ways this was the greatest move of all; it gave me the time to find things out about myself, to iron out self made problems and to put a few new wrinkles on my face from happy smiles and regretful tears.  No matter, that is all under the bridge now.

Then horror of horrors we had to move back to town life and found a delightful home in a small village named Rayton.  I fought hard with myself to get used to the closed in freedom of safety behind high walls and security systems.  I missed my loud music and the solitude when a day could go by without hearing a passing car.

Slowly over a few short months I got to make friends with the neighbours and settled in better than I would have thought possible.  We were close enough to the big cities, yet far enough away to forget their existence for weeks on end, a best of both worlds situation. 

Time passed so quickly without being noticed, it was there for convenience more than something that had to be adhered to at all moments of the day.  Alas the time came when we realized the ideal life was not suiting Rays working conditions, he was having to travel over 100km to get to his office.  This was making his days long and working out expensive with fuel costs. 

We knew we had to make yet another move and so the hunt began.  We took a map of the area that Ray works in and then drew a 25km radius circle around his work place.  We now had a sensible plan for the area in which to look for our new home.

A new home found, with huge garden, almost a desert, the move took place with lots of hassles regarding electricity and water disconnections and connections, transferring telephone accounts, re-linking with the internet and all the other paraphernalia that goes with a modern move.

We are here now, the garden is slowly coming on and the house is warm and cozy, suiting our needs perfectly.  The neighbours are loud and unfriendly and cannot even bother to greet each other as they pass in the street. 

It is home, and has all my beloved possessions in it, however it is not Rayton, and I miss my friends, so now it is me that gets into my little car “Annie Three” and asks her nicely to take us there to spend a day with my friend and catch up on all their news.

Ah well that’s life!

Fresh home made bread with hot soup.

Back in the good old days when a beef roast cost Zim$0.25c/kg and entertaining was done on a grand scale it was very pleasant to invite a dozen or so friends around for a dinner party and serve a delightful four course meal consisting of  soup, fish, meat/main and pudding.  The menu would be perfectly planned and invitations sent out well in advance.
Table linen, crockery and cutlery were checked to make certain that all matched and there was enough for all the diners. Table decor, such as flowers and candles was preplanned to ensure that everything would be available on the date required.
I can remember making light consommés and thin melba toast to go with them.
Fish, especially in Zimbabwe in the seventies, was hard to come by and it was usually a case of going to the fish monger to see what was available on the day, not an ideal situation, however we always managed to serve something special.
Meat, of any kind was cheap and available and therefore we tended to go a bit overboard with Boeuf Wellington or Stroganoff, Suckling pig, chicken Marenga  or a magnificent leg of lamb or pork.  We only served vegetables in season and the gravy was made from the juices of the meat and not a packet.
Puddings, always my favourite course, were such as Baked Alaska, apple crumble (made the English way), hot chocolate pudds with baked-in sauce , gooseberry pudding and the like.  Cream was thick and fresh from the farm and custard was made when required so that it would always be piping hot when served. 
Meals to be remembered by the hostess and visitors alike.
When we moved to South Africa the in thing was always braais (barbecues), still is, I hate to say. These have never been my favourite meals and never will be, to me it is a division of the sexes - the men stand around the fire with chosen alcohol beverage clasped firmly in one paw and the braai fork in the other with the host wearing his latest funny apron that his sectary gave him for his birthday, while the woman gather in the kitchen to prepare salads and such and the keep a good supply of beers and whatevers flowing out the fridge and into the garden.
The men tend to converse on all subjects from sport, to work, what is a good book to read and have you seen the cute new chick at the office.  The woman being a lot more boring discuss children, husbands, recipes, knitting etc.  I love cooking but am damned if I want to talk about it while socialising.  Get a life ladies there is a world out the back door that does not contain your husband, children, recipe books and knitting patterns and sometimes it is a nice place to be.
Back to the braai, we used to get something called boerewors, a South African speciality sausage that was absolutely delicious.  Now we just get wors in many flavours, one as bad as the other, and the majority of the contents being rejects from a pigs compost heap.
With regards to the cooking, it is plain for all to see why the chefs of the day have other full time jobs.  What a waste it is to me to see beautiful cuts of meat thrown on a dirty braai grid, and no, the dirt does not add the the flavour.
I do not think anyone has their meat cooked to their liking, the food is eaten more because of hunger pangs than anything else. Having a braai is an expensive and lazy way to entertain and I cannot understand why anyone would want to make their friends and family suffer with badly cooked food and a shortage of seating arrangements.
If you want to be a lazy hostess then make a huge pot of rich soup with plenty of meat and vegetables - quick, easy and inexpensive to do. Go to your local supermarket,  buy a few packs of  ready to bake bread dough, then have fun making breads and rolls in all shapes and sizes.  Sprinkle them with different seeds or toppings, bake and use them to decorate your table with.
Add a few salt and pepper grinders, butter and/or margarine, olive oil and a bottle of sherry for those that need a bit extra in the taste line. 
Guest can serve themselves to the soup, rip off a piece of bread and settle down to a great meal where friends and family matter the most and a quick to make meal that will steal many a heart.
There is nothing quite as good as do it yourself home cooking. Yes, I do advise to cheat with the bread dough, use it as a basis to show your baking skills.

Food is one of the best ways to entertain so make the most of it.