A Farm in Africa

I had a farm in Africa, continuing from my last blog. It was a farm nestling under the Drakensberg mountain range and close to a town called Mid-Illovo. To start with it was just virgin land with no buildings or roads.

The farm was beautiful, wild, with the Illovo river running through the lower portion of the farm. On that farm, I built a house, a dairy, a farm, a life. With the help of artificial insemination, I raised a dairy herd of Pedigree Guernsey cows, winning a National Record along the way. Growing tomatoes and cabbages to keep our cash flow going while we waited for the 300 acres of sugar cane to grow. 

5 years of drought brought an end to that dream but it is still the time of my life, I look back on it with such mixed emotions. What if?

What if we did not have the drought and I could build my herd and build the fertility of the soil. What if I had built a dam and conserved water? Life is so full of what-ifs. We learn and grow, the process can be hard and we might take a while to be whole again. I wrote this poem of sorts many years ago and it is a little sentimental but does convey the feelings I had at the time.

Farewell to Russell Glen

Farewell to Nancy, Viola and Lupin.

Farewell to the Illovo River banks

Russell Glen, Look your last at me

For I can farm you no more.

 

The sun has burnt away the water

And now the river is dry

And my brother leaves to live

A pride mother nature subscribed

 

My Mother prides her sons survive

The grass and water is gone

She had two farmers at the start of the day

Tonight she has none

 

And here is a broken heart to see

And a drowning hand to take

We will milk no more or plough

My heart is still

 

I wish you strength to be a farm again

I have given you my clean heart

And I will look to you for my hope

For now, my heart is dead

 

I long for you but that must wait

And long will I wait for life so full

And long will stand my still heart

No auctions hammer will be forgotten.

 

Farewell my life, I enjoyed it well

Farewell youth’s optimism

You taught your lesson well

I cannot come home no more

I approach 3 score years and 10 on the 12th July 2021 with a little trepidation and also a little wonder. How could this body of mine survived after all the abuse, does boggle the brain? It has, and from now on it is the bonus years. 

This is the start of my birthday weekend. We are going to Cornwall, Perranporth to be exact. 

Perranporth is a seaside resort town on the north coast of Cornwall, England, United Kingdom. It is 1 mile east of the St Agnes Heritage Coastline, and around 8 miles southwest of Newquay. Perranporth and its 3 miles long beach face the Atlantic Ocean. 

Now you know, I can not wait to see the St Agnes Heritage Coastline. With some luck, we will swim in those holy waters to tell the tale.