Category: The Age Thing

Madikwe Magic

It is hard to describe our experience at the Madikwe Game Reserve up near Botswana – Rob and I have been on many other game-viewing trips, in the Kruger Park, the Pilanesberg, Marakele, the St Lucia Wetlands and more, but never anything like this. Two examples will suffice, at least for now. On one of the afternoons when we did not go on a game drive, we were entertained for hours at the waterhole right in front of our (unfenced) lodge at Mooifontein, by buffalo, giraffe, impala, kudu and – most thrilling of all – a standoff between a rhino […]

Three countries, three grandsons

Well, I am back in SA, after an all-too-brief visit to the UK and Canada. Rob isn’t. Instead she is in the US, visiting family, and still in the process of sorting out our house in Toronto, damaged in last month’s ice-storm, and dealing with the very sad loss of her nephew, Kevin. It has been a strange kind of trip, in a way – lovely to see old friends (Mike, down in Kent, and the potluck gang on our visit to Toronto), my son and my daughter and their wonderful partners in London UK and Woodbridge, Ontario; wonderful just […]

Gabriel and Thomas at Urbanologi

This blog’s title might be a bit of a misnomer, but in this age of whoppers, fables, barefaced lies, from Presidents on down, its what you get, right. Fact: these photos were indeed taken at Urbanologi, the watering hole and yummy eatery downtown on Fox Street where, just last Saturday, the Fishers (me, my mother, Jonnie, Hayley, Gabriel), the Tjasjinks (Kathy, Gareth, Thomas), the Thompsons (Mike, Karen) and the one and only Pazdro (Rob, to me and to her family and friends) gathered for tapas and beer, the former with a decidedly South African inventiveness and flair, and to say […]

Thomas, flying

I have a bazillion Thomas images of course, but this one, you might say, is a little more ‘off the wall’ than usual. You might not like it, but I do. I will post more – and more ‘normal’ – photos in due course.  

Lunch with my mother

My mother, at 85, likes a good lunch, and likes to be spoiled. Cucina Labia, the official home of Count Labia, envoy to South Africa of the little Italian dictator, Mussolini (Trump’s clownish forebear) ticked all the boxes when we went there – appropriately enough – on Women’s Day, last Wednesday. ‘I like this. I like this. I can do this,’ my mum kept repeating. Here are two photos of her – still pretty sharp, I’d say, at her age. The photo of the ladies doing lunch, at a Women’s Day fundraiser, helps establish the scene and the ambience. The […]

A birth and a birthday

Thanks to all of the family, friends and colleagues who have sent me birthday wishes today – as the years fly by ever faster, and my sins of omission and commission as well as my many unexpected blessings loom ever larger in my imagination, I appreciate more each time around what it means to be remembered. Thank you indeed. The real news though is not my birthday – this is a movie we’ve seen more than once before, after all – but the birth, on July 26th, of my third grandson, Gabriel Michael Fisher, to Hayley and Jonathan, in London UK. […]

Of Gautrains and stations

There are three guys in my office whose job it is to review the evidence – cost-benefit analyses, emissions studies, traffic analysis, urban sprawl, you name it – for a mooted east-west addition to the Gautrain network. I ride the train most days, from Jo’burg to Pretoria and back again, and much as I love the speed, safety and convenience I do have to wonder about the economics. Fortunately, though, it’s not my problem. What does exercise my imagination is the place of the human, in all of this. It’s something to do, perhaps, with the scale of the individual […]

Three Toms

From last weekend, Sunday – three pictures of wee Tom Tjasink, my grandson, aged 2 months.

Rosebank Sunday Market & Boot Sale

Sundays are craft market days at the Rosebank shopping mall here in Johannesburg. A big chunk of the fourth floor parking area is corralled off for leatherwork, ceramics, beadwork, clothes old and new, jewellery, and of course coffee, food, drinks, African masks and carvings. Once a month, a car boot sale is bolted on somehow, and the market expands to take in old shoes, old tools, old knick-knacks, spilling out from boots and over car bonnets, onto trestle tables and floors. The vendors wait, bored or anxious, while people saunter by, or pick over their stuff, or cast a jaundiced […]