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By Root 696 0

hr shins the nail-clipping of a moon? & she walks over the sand deep washed-out pools of water straight into the sea straight ahead into the waves without hesitation or turning back or lifting of arms a prow. The possibility that something could happen to her. That she wants something to happen. My heart that starts beating & the taste of blood in my mouth. More than halfway in before she stopped. The waves bow down high before her & break & bubble white foam walls & the cap is only just visible & the crooked brown shoulder is high & she leans back slightly against the backwash & she stands firm & the bathing costume balloons black bulges around her body first to this side then to that & she settles her cap & she stands so rock-solid in the midst of the wild waves probably ten minutes. How high, how strong would the wave have to be that could flatten hr? Then she came out. Backwards-backwards she didn’t take hr eyes off from where it was coming from & I thought who does she think she’s preserving herself for? & then I was ashamed of myself & I sank down behind the dune & I cried I don’t know why & before I’d finished I had to leave & I step on sticks & sharp shells because I can’t see through my tears but I know I’d better be home before hr & in my bed when she brings the coffee. Then I must pretend to wake up & say hmmm I smell the sea & ask have you been outside yet what does the weather look like today?

21 December ’66

Oh dear heaven must really be more careful. Was too sleepy again last night to put away the diary so then J. this morning saw the bit about A. who’d gone for a swim. He’s bored at home because the wind blows too much to go out. Lord he said if you could only write something that made sense but it’s just one long string of ramble as if you’re bloody mixed-up in your head what’s the matter with you? It’s just getting worse all the time the yammering over bugger-all do you think you can make time stand still when you write such strung-together sentences? And then wouldn’t he take it to the kitchen & read it out loud to A. fast in one breath. She ignored him but I’m sure she heard it all. Then I grabbed the booklet from his hands. Kettle-spout arm! Break of day! Bat-skin! Nail-clipping moon! Wild waves! Jak exclaimed. Forty-five rotations per minute! For those who have ears to hear! Then in comes Jakkie and asks what’s happening. In her deepest being my son your mother is a great poetess. What’s a poetess? It’s somebody with a pain in the otherplace & there’s no medicine for it says J. What about Brooklax? Jakkie asks in all innocence & fortunately that saved the situation because then everybody laughed uproariously & couldn’t stop. A. has been walking around all day with such a little smile an odd expression in the eyes. Better left right there. After all didn’t libel her or anything.

24 December 1966

Seems to me Jakkie has perfect pitch. He’s been singing since infancy all the songs that he hears from A. and then tonight at the children’s Christmas tree in the little hall he sang all alone and without accompaniment O Star of Bethlehem o wondrous light while they pulled the star jerkily through the air on a wire. Oh my heart! What would his grandfather not have said! To the very highest notes of the chorus O Star of Bethle-h-em, Wondrous st-a-ar Thou lead’st to Jesus the little soprano voice clear & pure. A. listened at the door we can’t believe he sings so beautifully & then he can sometimes be so shy in front of people. Must get him to singing lessons. I believe there’s a Mrs Naude in Swellendam who has a way with musical children.

1 January 1967 Witsand

New Year’s message from the new Prime Minister on the radio SA the polecat of the world is performing excellently economically the power-house of Africa with mineral wealth we’ll make it to the top. Bought A. a new blue bathing costume for this year’s holiday with firm sponge cups because she’s pushing a stout pair of cans there. I listen but I haven’t heard hr go out in the early morning again. The bathing costume is still lying there