Ian Robinson Author's Blog

Friday, 4 August 2017

Robinson's Ramblings #14

BUSY, BUSY

I've been exceedingly busy re-formatting my book, the non-fiction Some Picnic! (It's a true story about our Gourmet Picnic place called Horizons, just outside Rosetta in KZN, South Africa, which we ran between 2004 to 2007 and has many accollades). It occurred to me as long it's an ebook, I can have as many pics as I want in my book (up to a total file size of 10mb), and I'm busy coming to the end of the process of inserting the pics. I've done revised/re-thought cover with more pics, as well.

There are more than fifty photos and I had to retouch, adjust the colour and format them. It taken me about a month. I'm nearly done.

So, I'm back.

LET IT GROW

I run a business called Go-Organic.co.za in Southern Africa (that's my logo, below), and I came across the 'Let it Grow Foundation'. Mightily impressed with the excellent work they're doing to return the earth the way it once was.

One example of Let it Grow

I had an allotment (which I used to ride my bike and there were a few very challenging hills which somebody put there...), and I respected that they made the points that:

Everything outside is easy pickings for pests like aphids and birds. Research some natural ways to keep these pests from snacking on your newly planted garden. There are plenty of ways to do it without using harmful chemicals.

Ensure your plants have enough water and keep weeds at bay.

DISASTER

Because, the first thing I found out there were no water taps on the plots where I grew my veg/fruit. This was a disaster.

They had a trough of water about 50 metres away (plus there was a hill which was slippery after it had gotten wet) and I battled to carry two cans of water. I needed to make five to ten trips to get that water, what I saw it as liquid gold, depending on how damp the soil was.

I lived close (with those hills in the way ;-) about two km, and I used to wish it would rain frequently to nurture my seedlings. Established plants were not so sensitive BUT, THEY STILL NEED WATERING.

Weeds were a menace. Particularly the weeds which carry seeds and drop them off right where you had pulled the weed out. Particularly, in the autumn. When the ground could get a bit hard, pulling a weed out needs strength like superman. So, KEEP WEEDS AT BAY.
You need to weed because the rain makes the weeds grow faster it seems, compared to my edible plants, funny that...

So, going back to the latter point, it's important. For the first point, DON'T USE HARMFUL CHEMICALS. IT'S VITAL, YOU READ THE LABEL. STUDY THAT SMALL PRINT, AS WELL. As I say, let's return the earth to the way it once was.

Fruits of Let it Grow's labour, above and above that.

LET IT GROW MAKES THE POINTS

Highlight their experience and beliefs:

o Johannesburg based

o They focus on community projects

o They encourage and guide households to start their own urban farms

o They use agroecology and permaculture philosophies to assist in the development of each project

o The team is eager to share their knowledge on:

Let It Grow Foundation is eager to share their knowledge and are personable, warm, open, relatable and easy to speak with.

Here is some more insight into their work:

Soil rejuvenation

Composting

Diverse heirloom seed saving

Mulching

Water conservation

Crop rotation

Planting insect-repelling plants

Growing one’s own food organically (this one the most important point, I think, and should be at the head of the list. If you need extra convincing, see: https://www.soilassociation.org/organic-living/ It's a Uk based site, but they make good points).

Using renewable resources

Conserving resources

Adjust planting methods to local environments

Empowering people and community upliftment

Companion planting (planting strategically to get the most of your garden)

Valuing one’s health

http://www.greenfamilyguide.com/green-stars/meet-clifford-rosen-let-grow-foundation/

You can contact the “king bee”, Clifford Rosen on cliff@letitgrow.co.za. Like Let It Grow Foundation on Facebook and Instagram

Rough Diamonds is dark, gritty, dirty and filthy. It's a killer read...

See https://uk.pinterest.com/ianrobinson9655/rough-diamonds/

Tuesday, 23 May 2017

Robinson's Ramblings #12

Sunday, 7 May 2017

Robinson's Ramblings #11

THUNDER

Thunder. Always alert.

This took place in 1971.

Thunder, the dog, (that's he, in all his glory, above) was central to many interesting days (or, I should say - nights) in my six months as a dog handler. I was 17 when I started. It was what I did to escape from doing camps. (After we finished doing the army or the air-force or the navy, they were those annual, three-week visits back to the Defence Force. They lasted five or ten years.)

I started in Ladysmith (in Natal, South Africa) and after five months, I went on to do the three-week long dog handling course at Pretoria. After that, I was based in Lenz, outside Lenasia, in the Transvaal.

I partnered with Brian Dawson in my time as a dog-handler. We took turns to stand guard.

What were we guarding? About thirty ammo stores, as large as a couple of tennis courts. They were spread out in open fields, with cropped grass between them. There were mounds of earth around as high as the walls to protect the surrounding ammo stores in case there was an explosion. It was (if I remember) a 8 kilometre/5 mile perimeter fence.

Huge.

36 people, 18 dogs, 15 dogs on guard at one time.

Brian Dawson, Thunder and me

Brian and I were on a rotation system. One was on duty from six pm until midnight, and the other was on from then until six am. Remember, it was below freezing in winter and we were doomed to be outside half the night.

It went like this in winter: At about half-past-four, one of us got dressed in as many clothes as we can get our hands on. That's what it seemed like.

First, we donned some thermal underwear. Next, we got into a full tracksuite or two. Then, we put on one or two jerseys. On top of those, we wore, not one, but two overalls (brown again). To finish, we put on a full length over-coat. I remember we took a blanket to keep warm. (Uumm, not to sleep?)

Next, to what we wore to keep our feet warm. We usually wore two pairs of thick rugby socks under a pair of ankle-high leather boots. Next, our heads. We wore two, thick balaclavas (brown, too, you've guessed). On top (literally), we wore a regulation hat (brown...).

If it was raining, we had a square waterproof (brown) with a hole in it for the head to stick out, which was also covered. Luckily, it was a summer rainfall region. But, there was a lot of lightning and thunder which one must take shelter from. The theory, was to be safe, there must be an object which could conduct electricity higher than you so that the highest point in a radius of 15 degrees protects the person underneath. Or dogs. We never got to test that theory.

After getting dressed, we entered the secure area where our dogs were. We were driven by a vehicle. They each had their own kennels (which we had to clean, daily). We first had to get all the piles of crap out, then, we had to hose them as well. During the cleaning of the kennels, some of the dogs would have to kept well apart, lest they fought. Others, they wouldn't hurt a fly.

Not Brian. Keeping well clear of those teeth.

Thunder had the most sensitive ears on a dog. He heard the gate being opened, about 1.6 km/1 mile away, and he was immediately awake and stood there, menacingly and aggressively barking. Suddenly, all the dogs were alert and baying with all their might. This was for the officer on duty to drive around inspecting us.

Just as well, because after a hard day fooling around, I fell asleep as always.

About nine pm, often, the Officer on Duty came to inspect us. The Officer in charge, routinely, was on his own. I knew the young Sergeant Major, whose turn it was to do duty, tended to drink.

This evening, I sensed he had started to drink. The gate lock rattled, and it alerted Thunder. Off he went barking.

I stood with my back to that huge ditch, which was about a man deep and equally wide. I assume to deter invaders. After the Officer worked his way through the now alert guarders, I could see the headlights approaching fast and moving from left to right. Then, the small jeep was nearly on top of me.

Literally. I evaded it by leaping in the ditch with Thunder. I heard the driver (obviously he'd been drinking heavily) screeching in a cloud of dust and stones to a halt. Thunder continued making a racket. Climbing back out of the ditch and helping Thunder to get out.

The sergeant major backed up to where I and my dog had scrambled out, and, with really pissed look on his face, I could see that he was (partly) concerned he might have collided with me and my dog. Only partly.

The Officer had been drinking for more than three hours.

Me with Thunder.

Another time, in November, we were gathered (illegally) in some ammo depot. Our dogs were individually secured well apart from each other. There were about ten of us there chilling out.

We overheard some noise from the kennels like a sound of some dog fiddling with the roof. One of the guys said he had heard that the dogs had found a way to get out of the kennels.

In the daytime, there were two black dogs there, all the rest were a mixture of browns (there's that word again...) and tans. They all were reasonably placid in comparison with two black dogs: Thunder, and Killer (I don't remember his actual name, but that's rough enough for this story).

That early evening, Killer had escaped through a gap he had forced between the sides of the kennel and the roof. Killer was headed directly in our direction. Now this was trouble. We could see Killer coming from a distance away - about five minutes when he was on top of us, no doubt savaging me. My Thunder could fend for himself. I ran to my dog, the likely target which Killer would attack, and frantically untied him.

Killer had a massive screw loose and I could see he was about 200 mts/220 yds away, heading for his arch enemy, Thunder. Thunder saw Killer running fast in his direction. I spotted a roof which had access to but not for Killer. Frantic, I helped Thunder (which was difficult as he was full-on barking aggressively). We just made it to the roof with Killer barking viscously below.

I shouted to a guy on a nearby roof, to get Killer's handlers to come and sort out their dog. Thunder pulled the leash tight and Killer was down below barking aggressively until his handlers came and returned him to another secure kennel.

That was 1971. Thunder, Killer and all the other dogs have gone to meet their maker a long time ago.

Monday, 1 May 2017

Robinson's Ramblings #10

Geoff and Maureen

My Dad and Mum lived in the old days. Let me explain. I wonder what my parents would have made of Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest, and robots? The fact that processor speed doubles each year? They wouldn't surely have foreseen the frightening the pace of development and the proliferation of technology?

This week, in Robinson's Ramblings #10, I devote to my Mum and Dad. Were they to be here now, they would have been astounded.

The pics were taken in 1964.

My father looks cool at this Café in Madrid.

Happy in Greece.

It was 1956 and we were on the road from Pretoria to Durnacol (in South Africa), roughly about 320km/200 miles. The name Durnacol (where our new home was to be), is made up from Durban Navigation Collieries. The coal was shipped to Durban (about the same distance) in the early '50's as fuel for the liners and ships.

It was February and I was three. Plus six months. The length of my life was important back then at my youth, because time was measured in months, not years.

We were driving in an Austin A40 which my parents were so proud of. Of course, we also were, and it was magical to be able to drive in our own shiny, brand-new car.

It used to be shiny the day before, but, we were travelling on an excuse of a road. We were now driving in a torrential downpour on a slippery, muddy, dirt route. We had many kilometres to go before we reached our new home.

Suddenly, the car slewed first this way, then that. Geoff was nearly losing control. He was an excellent driver but I could see that the road was challenging him.

Finally, we arrived at our destination in the dark. The conditions were so atrocious that it took nearly a day to get there.

“Come on, leave the rest of the cases. I’ll get them when it’s stopped pouring,” Geoff said.

He put the key in the door of our new home and turned it. But, there was another problem: The lights had tripped. Try as he might, the lights weren’t coming on.

Geoff fetched some food from the Austin in the dark and we had a cold meal. Later, the rain had let up enough, Geoff could get back to the car to get the rest of the luggage.

Very early the next morning, Geoff woke first. He looked around and couldn’t believe it: The walls were brown. The colour was a shitty brown. He got out of bed and went to the passage. Those wall were brown, too.

He woke up Maureen. “Look at these walls... ”

She was startled. “Oh shit!”

“My thoughts exactly. We’ll need to paint them a different colour."

My parents were quite disgusted with the colour that they woke us up and showed us. We agreed.

We lived there as a family for the next twenty years.

My parents in Trafalgar Square. The men wore suits and the ladies wore skirts those days. The two photographers on the left were perhaps thinking who they were going to do next. Maybe they had my parents in mind. Note the presence of pidgeons. They're gone now.

“Big sky.” Athena, my wife, would say sometimes looking up at the vastness above.

“Wow, where did you get that from?” I’d asked the first time she said it.

“I felt it the first time I came to Africa. There’s just so much space and when you look out at the landscape it just seems to go on and on and on to the horizon and up into an endless sky.”

Big sky. What a profound thing to say.

This captures the feelings which we set out to achieve in Horizon's Gourmet Picnics.