Gallery Samples Stories of our Ancestors | Page 33

it was decided to decorate the newly whitened walls with ‘flowers’ made from ‘Blue’ bags,
dipped in water and sploshed onto the lower part of the walls, as a dado strip. Let me explain
what a Blue bag is; one used to buy small square blocks of a bright blue substance which one
wrapped in a strip of calico, then dipped in water and swirled it around in the final rinsing
water of white clothes, sheets etc. The water became bluish and left the ‘whites’ beautifully
white. So in the laundry one would always find a ‘Blue bag’.
‘Now for the hardest part which all of you will love! The floors were made of hard, beaten
earth, covered with coatings of…………..wait for it……………. Cow Dung! Most effective it was too.
Here is where the farm labourers knew exactly what to do. They collected cow dung from dairy
farms and mixed it to a good firm consistency and this was smeared onto the floors. By hand of
course, and No, it didn’t smell: it was only digested grassy stuff after all!
‘The floors were left to dry and then emerged shiny, hard, smooth, with a good honest earthy
smell; all very eco-friendly.
‘Then, the days and days of preparations so that the kitchen was abuzz with work and alive
with aromas. A few days before New Year and the party, the guests started arriving in their ox
wagons. They outspanned forming a laager surrounding the house. The animals were taken
further away to graze while young Black boys watched over them. Then retinues of women and
children, and aunties and uncles, grannies and grandpas, Black nannies, and sisters and
brothers and cousins and friends, spilled from the wagons carrying huge bowls and pots of
food. Great urns of tea and coffee and jugs of home-made lemonade were piled on tables.
Everything was shared including stories and news. And many a young romance blossomed at
the Tiekiedraai. And the men drank their kind of ‘lemonade’ and smoked and yarned and in
sombre voice spoke of the Great War which was about to descend upon them. And nothing
would ever be the same again.
‘On the Great Night the excitement mounted. Mountains of food were arranged on every inch of
table in sight and the music and dancing began. Mom played the concertina, Dad the accordion,
Uncle Henry the violin, and young Uncle Willie the guitar. And everyone of any age danced! And
after days of ‘lemonade’ and sun the men were in merry mood as they twirled and stamped
their partners around and around the dance floor.
‘Even I at the age of six joined in the fun until I could no longer keep my eyes open and Mom
whisked me off to the wagon where the smaller children were already asleep. A little coloured
nurse-maid washed me and put me to bed where I lay blissfully with my little brother and
sister.
‘Three weeks later, the farm was packed up and we went back to Grahamstown. It was now
1915 and I was due to start school so I expect we had to move back to town more or less full
time. We lived then in a double-storied house in New Street. I disliked this house intensely. It
had rotting floor boards and when we moved in I found a dead dog in the cellar.
“I blamed the house for the dead dog” says Ruby.
‘Another baby, Lorentz, was born there on 7th August 1915. Our family was increasing in size
yet Dad and the other men had to go to War, and who knows what would happen? Finances
were to &V6??RF?v?FW"?BF?v?FW"?????BF?f??B6??Rv??b7W'f?f??( ???30???