An Ancient Legacy#

When we moved here, most of the smallholdings were vacant. The only other permanent residents were the H Family - our nearby neighbours to the Northwest - and Robby the Artist, in his self-built Hobbit House nestling reclusively in the edges of the Forest.

Over the years we have learned that the human players in this magical scenery come and go like falling stars in the night. Some flash by so quickly we barely catch a glimpse of them. Other light up the sky with their brightness and brilliance. The real constants are the houses, Stinkwood Ridge to the North, the everpresence of the Forest and the ancient and enduring legends of the Knysna Woodcutters and the still-more-ancient Bushmen who preceded us all in this Place of Honey.

Times Change#

Electricity had been introduced to the area only a couple of years earlier, and, together with cheap petroleum-fuelled transport, is probably the single biggest reason for the population explosion over the past decade. Nowadays almost all plots are permanently occupied, many with two dwellings.

The first resident to introduce themselves was G'vereth D'vorah (a Hebrew title: Lady-Teacher D'vorah.) She stands about 1.5m tall in her bare feet, and spends much of her time wandering the forest, learning the wisdom of the trees, rivers and earth, and has become a very special friend. Together we share many concerns about what the future may hold as oil-supplies peak, climate changes, and we all need to concern ourselves with becoming real communities once more.

Very soon after we moved to Braamekraal, some more neighbours moved into the Cottage At The End Of The Road. Archie and Veronica were an ex-Jo'burg couple, in most ways not really interested in any form of self-sufficiency, but rather in living a "country" lifestyle, while retaining their citified habits. Despite this we got on very well, and they became regular customers for our eggs and veggies, until they decided to move back into Town after living here for 10 years. Just recently they sold the Cottage At The End Of The Road, so we look forward to meeting some new neighbours.

In the early years we were privileged to know several of the remnant descendants of the Knysna Woodcutters. Though most of them drift in and out of the area as circumstances, money and family politics allow, they are almost all gone, now, sadly. We were quite, proud, through, to reach some measure of acceptance by them, even to the point where we had the opportunity to marry into the family!

About four or five years after we moved to Braamekraal, The Plot Next Door was put up for sale. John, representing the group of owners, gave me a call to let me know that they were selling the property, intimating that we could get a special price. It was tempting, but would have stretched our finances to a discomforting level. At that time I was just about to pay off the last of the mortgage, and the thought of getting back into the banks' clutches was just too much to bear. We passed it on to Brett. He had fallen in love with the area while overseeing the construction of our house, and we had becomes firm friends with him and Adella in the interim. As luck would have it, he, together with his father, had had a small inheritance windfall, and could just afford the purchase price. So, directly to our North, are wonderful neighbours and good friends.

Robbie, having named the street after himself, eventually decided to move on, and sold his property to the Local Asshole, Harasya. Previously known by his Biker Name, he is the proud possessor of a Double-Garageful of Tinned Food -- his Y2K legacy.

The property to our immediate East was, for some years, owned by one Mr. Whacked Skew. The Whacked Skew family came here with some idyllic fantasy of Country Life. After six months they packed it in and moved back to town, but not before moving Mrs. Whacked Skew's aging father, Cedric, in as overseer and retainer, together with their Pack of Unwanted Yapping Dogs. Their story is one big laugh from beginning to end.

To the West is one of the last properties still owned by the descendants of Knysna Woodcutter families. Anton is our contact. Initially relationships between us and Anton were tenuous, at best, since one of our trees had fallen in a storm and damaged the fence between our properties. Over the years, or itinerant and erratic Gardener, Pieter, has brokered a firm and enduring respect between us, and we get on pretty well by now. More so since word has got around that I'm brewing beer once again.

Across the road, to the South, is a large farm owned by Deon B. The B family go way, way back, hundreds of years. Local legend is that their original farmstead extended "from the Goukamma [River] in the East to the Knysna River in the West, from the Mountains in the North to the Sea in the South." Lately Deon, having Come of Age and into his inheritance, has been farming Roll-On Lawn, thus selling his topsoil to the highest bidder. God knows what will become of that land in the future.

Among the notable Neighbourhood Tsunamis, we've been quite deeply involved in community affairs, and have served on a number of committees charged with preserving One Thing Or Another. One of the more pathetic incidents, which would have been funny, but for the vicious and unwarranted personal attacks on one particular family, was a committee we declined to serve: The Fly Swatting Committee.