Showing posts with label value. Show all posts
Showing posts with label value. Show all posts

Friday 16 December 2022

Number 26 16.12.2022


We are preparing to move from Morningside Sandton to Rivonia 

It is not everyday that I get reaction on my blogposts. My friend Leendert Joubert reacted to it and his reaction is helpful to think over and to decide for yourself. We all have “stuff” that are “valueless” – especially to other people. Does price enter the equation? No – it does not.

When I sold my property in Morningside, it was not my home for almost 41 years that I sold. I sold the property because the house is priceless! No one could afford to buy that house.

The bricks and mortar [every single brick we saw it when it was laid] [we built the garage big enough for my woodworking tools to fit in], glass, carpets, light fittings, door handles, built-in cupboards, ceilings [even the dust on the ceilings], my chicken coop, the stones in the garden and the vegetables that were still growing there, were not for sale. The nostalgia is within ourselves.

There were a couple of non-negotiables when I started negotiations for the selling; one was: no entry into the home itself. The purchaser was interested in developing the property and therefor, so my reasoning went, he had absolutely no interest to see the interior. And it was accepted.

Now for Leendert’s contribution:

Neels, your blog [NUMBER 24 published on 14 December 2022] [CJC] about all the stuff we gather during our lifetime, is rather thought provoking. One of the thoughts that came to my mind while reading your blog, is whether or not one should put a price tag on those items that have sentimental value.  I have stuff that have no or very little commercial value, but beware if anybody should try to steal or damage or even insult it.  You just may see the complete opposite of the so-called gentle giant or Sagmoedige Neelsie.

You might recall my effort in the genealogic newsletter about the air rifle. Nobody might be interested to buy it, and it's okay, because nobody in this world will understand the bond it provides me with my dad and grandfather. Another example is the cane walking stick, that originally was my father's fishing rod. Anybody can make a walking stick from a piece of cane for less than twenty rand, but mine is not for sale for any amount of money. And still, I doubt if any of my children would want it. It just won't fit in with their lifestyles or living conditions. Neither can I see it on display in a museum. Chances are that it ends up on a dump site covered by thousands of tons of sand and soil and rocks and other people's stuff, just to be discovered a million years hence by some curious aliens. Apparently the same would apply to the grotesque hand I sculpted from the roots of a camphor tree, or the image of a three-legged pot I carved out on a plank to serve as stand for my potjiekos pot.

Do we really have a responsibility to conserve all the stuff, or is there a guideline to distinguish between stuff and real valuable items, or is it acceptable to take a photo of it and store it in the cloud, where nobody can access it if they don't have my password?  

His ideas are worthwhile to keep in mind; if you are in position to do something about it, to do that thing, more so if it is your last thing that you do. “Sagmoedige Neelsie” is a reference to one of my countries most prolific and loved authors of many years back: C.J. Langenhoven who lived most of his life in Oudtshoorn Western Cape. I can recommend Dominique Malherbe’s book SEARCHING FOR SARAH THE WOMAN WHO LOVED LANGENHOVEN. She casts another light on this Afrikaner icon and I must say it is revealing and not altogether flattering on Neelsie. I know her book was not about the drunkard, Advocate Langenhoven, but about her aunt Sarah Goldblatt; she tried to tell us about her aunt. She succeeded and left a great many questions in the wake of the waves her book stirred up.

Considering Dominique’s book, it is also another way of preserving a legacy. Do your research and write your story.

My friend’s grotesque hand that he carved is another thing altogether. They uprooted a camphor tree in their backyard, he kept it and recently he started carving this hand. And the hand lost its thumb in the process; he tells me that there was a weakness in the wood but he kept that “thumb.” He craftily put it back; my “woodworking-surgeon friend.”

Leendert's hand carved from a tree stump


Leendert's hand carved from a tree stump



Leendert's potjie carved from pine

The three-legged pot he carved years ago is still serving its purpose.

We are creating legacies as long as we are alive and as long as we live. Some years ago, I attended a funeral service of a friend who was a member of a woman’s co-operative. She focused on baking milk tarts. That went on for years. And she apparently kept notes about this lot.  Another friend who presented the eulogy, told us how many kilograms flour she used baking all of those milk tarts. And how many tins of condensed milk went in there. How many hours she spent in the kitchen; how many kilometers driving around in her car buying the ingredients and sourcing new ingredients and then delivering the baked items to the co-operative and how many hours she spent servicing the clients.




The same reasoning applies to Frank McCourt’s books. I am busy reading his modern-day classic: ANGELA’S ASHES. That is part and parcel of his legacy. You will think that you cannot attain that because, so your reasoning goes, you cannot write. That is besides the point. You have a legacy while you are reading this post. You should do anything possible to preserve some of it. If you don’t do it, who will? If you don’t do it now, when will you do it?

On my desk in my office, I have a lot of literature that I am busy reading. Every single book that was written by a single author or more than one is a legacy. And that is their legacy – for the moment. The law treatises will get dated and then their time is up. And new treatises will have to be written. And so, the cycle goes on and on an on … Judges come. And judges go. And they pass judgement because that is what a judge is called to do. Blog-authors come. And blog-authors go. That is the way life is. Prime Ministers come and go. Some faster than others, ask Me Liz Truss in the UK about it.

Prof. Dr Feynman allegedly said:

Educate yourself about things. Study hard what interest you the most. Don’t worry about what others think of you, that’s none of your business. Train your mind to think, doubt, and question. That’s how you grow.”

This ties in with the saying: Try to learn something of everything and everything about something. 

I suggest to you that it is imperative in life. Get on with the job and tell me your story please: neelscoertse@wirelessza.co.za