Tag Archives: writing

A New Beginning

Good day to all who have followed my blog for such a long time. I know I have not posted much on my blog lately but have been so busy with writing for clients and started a new passion of mine in a new website.

Please feel free to check it out and share. I would appreciate it if you follow me there as well.

My new website is all about reviews – Let’s Be Honest Reviews


Hope you all had a blessed Easter Weekend – and let us not forget that Christ is Risen to prepare a place in the kingdom for us.


Unreal Fantasy Story Part Two

Hi to all! Thanks to the old follower and the new for reading my daughters previous writing on her book, but we still have not received any comments if she should be writing the story further or if it is worth the while reading.  My first blog on this had been posted on the 22nd August 2014 and here is the follow up on the story:

The Voyage
They arrived just in time for the ship’s departure. It turned out that they were just waiting for them. “After all, one cannot leave your highest paying passengers behind,” as the captain himself stated. As they boarded the ship and showed their rooms, she realised that her uncle had also joined them with her two cousins – Jason the eldest and Eric, the youngest. Two obnoxious jerks. All they ever did was treat her like dirt. She just took a deep breath and told herself that she must make the best of the situation. That there are bigger forces out there, who will look out for her.

After they set sail, the day flew past fast and daylight soon turned to darkness. They were making progress fast. Everyone was relaxing except for Alexis. She was standing on the deck, watching the waves of the sea crash against the ship. All was calm until suddenly she heard an alarming scream, “We are under attack!”

The calm environment changed to one of chaos. Thousands of feet were moving over and about, arming themselves and taking passengers to safety, all of them but Alexis. They left her alone, her body frozen to the spot, to fend for herself. Deep inside she knew that if she does not hide, she could pay dearly with her life. However, she just could not move her body did not want to respond to her attempts, no matter how hard she tried.

She could hear cannons firing; feel the vibrations caused by them. The seamen were fighting right in front of her while her heart hammered in her chest, but her body still did not want to respond, not even when two wild looking men grabbed her. She barely succeeded in following them, causing them to drag her up to their ship. Visions of lifeless bodies torment her all the way which she just vaguely recognised. Everything happened in slow motion, making it all feel surreal.

The enemy ship looked like it sailed out of a horror movie, not a speck of colour was in sight, it was dark and morbid. The wood coloured like charcoal and the sails pitch black, a place of pure evil and malice.

As they put her down in front of their captain, a chill ran through her body, awakening a spur of life in her too. It was that little spark it took to ignite her will to live and encourage her to fight. At the same time, just one look at the Captain’s face woke up a deep fear in her. His eyes were a dark void, but as he looked at her weak on her knees in front of him, a fire lit up in them. It looked like he wanted to devour her on the spot. This made the hairs on her body stand up and her eyes turn cold and hard.

“Well, well what do we have here? You’re a nice looking girl, I must say. You would probably look better with less clothes on and that golden hair let down, but that could be organised.” All she did was look at him; she could not find any words to say to him. Although there was no need for words as, the look in her eyes spoke volumes, conveying exactly what she thought of him and his ideas. “He can go to hell!”

“Hey, girl! Don’t you know how to speak?” before he could throw anymore-crude comments her way, one of his crew members interrupted him. “Sorry to bother you Captain! What must we do with the older woman we captured?” “Oh, yes! I almost forgot about her, this one had me a bit preoccupied. Tie that old hag up in my cabin we will trade her tomorrow. As for this little doll, tie her up on the deck, maybe that will loosen her tongue.” “Alright Captain, but if you do not mind me saying something else.” The Captain just grunted in response, “What is it Howard? I do not have time for your chit chat.” “Well, I think this girl can’t talk at all,” he stammered, “Through the whole fight she didn’t make a peep.” “Well, thanks for that bit of info, then beat her up a bit too. That ought to make her talk.” “Yes, Captain!”

After that she was led away, dreading what they had planned for her with each step she took but vowing to herself that no matter how much pain they inflict that she would not utter a word, not even as much as a murmur. They tied her up, her hands and feet shackled tightly. The rope eating through her flesh already, blood seeping from the wounds. She still did not cry, but stared out in front of her.


Suddenly she awoke by the captain’s harsh footsteps heading her way. Time was a mystery to her, all the days spent tied up blended. It all was just one big blur of events, consisting mostly of pain and drifting in an out of consciousness as the sun baked her sensitive skin and the cold wind bit at her exposed flesh. Wakened every time being whipped by the Captain, taunted and used in every way that he pleased. However, through every bit of torture and humiliation she still did not utter any sound.

The pain was devouring her, hunger and thirst slowly killing her. There was nothing more she wanted to do than beg him for mercy, but deep inside she knew that it was not worth it. She would rather die than do the filthy Captain’s bidding willingly.

“Well girl, you’d be happy to hear that you’re not getting your whipping today. I’ve gotten tired of your silence. You must look your best, we’re nearing a tribe with whom we do business often and hope they will take you off our hands for supplies. Otherwise, your life is going to come to an end soon.” With the news delivered, he left her hanging there to ponder what he said.


I have decided to help my daughter by placing some book writing, she wrote and would love to hear from all my followers in advising us if the writing is worth the while to finish. The work is still very rough and still needs to be changed and illustrations to be added. Please leave comments if you think she should go ahead and finish the book and if you do not like it please advise us on the feeling you have. We would like honest opinions please as she does not want to waste her time if it is not at least good.

Unreal Fantasy

The Beginning

On the planet Notorious there exist two completely different races. The Fair-skinned, who thought of themselves as civilised and who believed that they were above all other living creatures. However, they still lived in fear, dreading that one day they would be attacked by another of their kind who wants what they posses. Then there were the Barbarians, a name which the Fair-skinned gave them. They were a more peaceful race, who made a living from the land. They did have disputes between their tribes, but it seldom led to violence. So why were they given such a savage name? Was it because they were not understood or perhaps that they were feared?
But this is not a tale about the differences of two races. It is a tale of one girl in particular who brought them together. This girl’s name was Alexis. She was the only daughter of the richest Fair-skinned couple in Dunland – Mr and Mrs Owen. Even though they were rich, they were wonderful people. They were compassionate but above all they adored their daughter and loved her more than anything in their life. She was given the best life that they could give her, they would have given her the world even but it was not theirs to give.
Alexis was different from other peers her age. She was a loveable girl who cared about anything living, looking out more for others. It was not only her personality that made her beautiful. She was also blessed with angelic looks. As a result of being different, she never truly fitted in. Sometimes even her parents would find themselves in a situation where they did not completely understand her.
As if that was not enough, her whole world as she knew it was turned upside down in a blink of an eye.

It was her 19th birthday, a day, which was supposed to be wonderful, but instead turned out into her worst nightmare. She started the day by helping out at the local shelter as she usually did even though her parents did not understand why she would do such a thing on her birthday of all days. All she kept telling them was that the small children at the shelter needed her. Her time at the shelter flew by fast, full of laughter and joy. When she headed home, she was in a very happy mood.
She felt like she was walking on air, but as she opened the front door, an uneasy feeling ran through her body. The house was too quiet. In the end, optimism got the better of her, thoughts of dread and fear dispersed as happy scenarios filled her head that only made the shock more severe. As she walked into the living room, her eyes fell on a gruesome scene, on the floor, she found her parents’ bodies lying in pools of blood. A sad picture compared to the birthday decorations and presents stacked in the room. Her knees gave way, turning to jelly as she collapsed beside them, tears clouding her eyes. Tons of thoughts bombarded her mind. Her whole world started spinning around and around until everything faded to black.

When she woke up, she was lying in her bed. She almost thought it was all just a dream if it was not for the stranger looking at her as she opened her eyes. “Good morning, Miss Owen, I was glad to see that you are finally awake. I am Mr Johnson, your parents’ lawyer, but you can call me Jarred.”
She sat up in her bed, confused from all the events that had happened and now some stranger was staring at her and claiming that he was her parents’ lawyer. It was all just too much for her.
“Sorry, I know that a lot have happened in your life in just a few hours and that you are still trying to make sense of everything. I am also sorry about the death of your parents and I promise you that the law will find those who are responsible, but it is my responsibility to your parents to ensure that you looked after. You are only 19, meaning that you are still a minor, according to the Law and therefore will need a guardian. I found out that you are alone except for your mother’s sister, Grace. I have spoken to her and confirmed that you will be leaving with her today still, she will be your legal guardian.” Even though he sounded sincere and sorry, the emotion did not seem to reach his eyes or face.
She did not know what to say, staring at him forlornly as she fought to keep her composure. “What? This cannot be! How can this stranger just tell her what to do? She just lost her parents and now she will lose her life and freedom too. Her aunt hated them and despised her. Her life will be living hell. Although they can take her freedom, they will never take her heart and soul. Money is not as important as that.”
“Well, Miss your things are packed and ready. You must just get dressed and then join us downstairs.” With those words he left her room, as cold hearted as he entered, leaving her with only her thoughts to keep her company.

Finally dressed in her maroon coloured travelling dress and matching slippers, her golden hair clipped into place on her head, she walked down the stairs, ready to face her fate. What greeted her there revolted her. Her aunt was sitting there like she was the queen of the castle. “Oh, Alexis, it is good to see that you finally decided to join us. We’re in a bit of a hurry, we must still catch our ship you know and get back home as soon as possible. So come, come, let’s leave now.” With that brisk command, they left her house and life behind. Leading her toward her new life, one she was unwilling to be part of but had no choice in.



Sitting here all alone on my bed, music playing softly in the back waiting for my hubby dearest to arrive home from work as it is already late my mind started wondering to the past week we had.  I just had to share it as it is very important to me.

Thinking back what a week it had been, it started with me on the Monday 10th February 2014 browsing the net to my surprise my husband came home early from work.  He had lost his job and with me being without a job for two years now working on and off on contract, he had been the sole breadwinner for us me relying on him most of the time.  I went all pale in my face and quiet listening and taking all off it in.

My husband worked for the past five years with a very difficult man with no human feelings at all.  He use to arrive home some days very negative and did not want to go back to work many a times, but with us in the situation we where he had no choice.

I looked at him and said it will be fine we must just believe and keep faith.  We both decided to advertise our motorbike on the net to be sold, thinking we must make a plan to survive and it could take some time for a sale to take place.  By the evening the motorbike had been sold and God provided money to keep us going till either one of us had a work.

As the week progressed we applied for three job applications for him.  By Thursday afternoon a gentleman phoned him for an interview the Friday morning.  As Friday arrived we read a verse my mom had sent us to read out of Psalm 56.  We read the whole chapter but the verse that stayed in our minds was the following:

When I am afraid, I will trust in you,

In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust:

I will not be afraid.                     

What can a mortal man do to me?

My husband went to the interview and he started working today.  When in doubt believe and trust in God.  He is in control of your life and he makes all possible for those that believe in him.  Leave all your fears, pain and concerns with him and it will be provided in his time.

That is why I do believe in miracles of God.  God made this possible for us and I praise him for that in all what I do.













With Valentines day arriving here is something from me to you.


Love is patient.

Love is kind. 

It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 

It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, and it keeps no record of wrongs. 

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes and always perseveres.

Love never fails.  

Always keep love in your lives.


Hi to all have you ever sat and wondered why our humans in this world is the way they are?  I have sat and thought about what is happening in our world around us and even in my own country and my Bible showed me why!  They have forgotten the one word that God had given to us and all the others feelings that goes with it.  LOVE

The Bible shows us what we must do and this is the one reading that I have always found the most touching in the readings:




LOVE is patient

LOVE is kind.  It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.

LOVE does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

LOVE never fails.

Three things remain:  FAITH, HOPE AND LOVE.


We as humans have forgotten to love we chase for only one thing in this World today and that is MONEY and POWER.




A few years after I was born, my Dad met a stranger who was new to our small town. From the beginning, Dad was fascinated with this enchanting newcomer and soon invited him to live with our family.

The stranger was quickly accepted and was around from then on.

As I grew up, I never questioned his place in my family. In my young mind, he had a special niche.

My parents were complementary instructors: Mom taught me good from evil, and Dad taught me to obey. But the stranger… he was our storyteller. He would keep us spellbound for hours on end with adventures, mysteries and comedies. If I wanted to know anything about politics, history or science, he always knew the answers about the past, understood the present and even seemed able to predict the future!

He took my family to the first major league ball game. He made me laugh, and he made me cry. The stranger never stopped talking, but Dad didn’t seem to mind. Sometimes, Mom would get up quietly while the rest of us were shushing each other to listen to what he had to say, and she would go to the kitchen for peace and quiet.

(I wonder now if she ever prayed for the stranger to leave.)

Dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions”, but the stranger never felt obligated to honour them. Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our home – not from us, our friends or any visitors. Our long time visitor, however, got away with four-letter words that burned my ears and made my dad squirm and my mother blush. My Dad didn’t permit the liberal use of alcohol but the stranger encouraged us to try it on a regular basis.  He made cigarettes look cool, cigars manly, and pipes distinguished.

He talked freely (much too freely!) about sex. His comments were sometimes blatant, sometimes suggestive, and generally embarrassing.. I now know that my early concepts about relationships were influenced strongly by the stranger.

Time after time, he opposed the values of my parents, yet he was seldom rebuked … And NEVER asked to leave. More than fifty years have passed since the stranger moved in with our family.

He has blended right in and is not nearly as fascinating as he was at first. Still, if you could walk into my parents’ den today, you would still find him sitting over in his corner, waiting for someone to listen to him talk and watch him draw his pictures.

His name?…. We just call him ‘TV’.



Philip Jonker, the owner of Weltevrede, one of the famous Cape Wine Estates that was hit by the farm worker protests and uprisings in the last 2 weeks, wrote about his life-threatening experience in the following newsletter…

(Be prepared to be awed)

Some time ago someone asked me what my dream is and I wrote:

To day by day step into the bullring of everyday life where the adrenaline is pumping and blood flowing, to say and do and live to the utmost the full measure of each day. To be filled with enthusiasm, to live inspired, to keep dreaming and to let others dream, to live the freedom that my faith had ushered me into.

This week I can’t use the term ‘everyday life’. Life as we know it in our celestial valley came to a sudden halt. Towers of black smoke spiralled upwards and shots rang through the air – from a distance seeming completely unreal, like you’re watching a movie.

The roads amongst vineyards and orchards were barricaded with burning tires, rocks and chanting people.  Windows of police vehicles were smashed and stoned with rocks. All permanent employees were kept hostage and there is an emotion charged climate of fear and hatred hanging over everything, the lines of worry written on the faces of people. Saddest of all is to see how the children are being wrapped up in lawlessness, partly due to the excitement but also deliberately to keep the police from using rubber bullets. Small children cry out, “Boer, we are going to burn down your farm!”, and another one next to him would cry out, “Do we have Kinderkerk on Sunday?”

Before the troubles started I called a meeting with our farm workers. I reminded them that we are there for them and that we’ll do all we can to keep them safe. I offered them my phone number to call me should anyone be intimidated or threatened. I invited them to come and stay with me in my home if anyone feels unsafe. Little did I know that my phone number would be used so frequently during the next few days, not to ask for help, but to alert me about possible dangers, updating me on own initiative of what they see or over heard. I received between ten and twenty phone calls! I am touched by the deep loyalty and commitment of the Weltevrede workers. Despite huge pressure there was not one who stayed away. They all came to work. When I saw their dedication, but also the fear on their faces, I thanked them and gave them the past two days off for the safety of their homes.  Sadly, the instigators  portrays this as an uprising of farm workers.

On Thursday I received the first phone call that a group of hundreds is on its way to Weltevrede. I quickly went to our farm workers at their homes and warned them so they could lock and stay out of sight. We closed the winery and offices and the management were sent to my home. Everything was deserted except for me waiting. It was so quiet and all I could do was sit and quietly speak to God. I heard them coming long before I could see anything.  Their thundering chants of “Viva!” and “Amandla!” echoed against the hills surrounding Weltevrede. It became louder and louder until eventually the mass of people arrived. I think it is normal to fear at that point when more than five hundred angry, armed and emotionally swept up people come toward you man alone.

But I did not feel an inkling of fear because I wasn’t man alone. I discovered in me, by the grace of God alone, His spirit of love, power and a sound mind. I walked into the dancing and jumping crowd armed with pangas, machetes and clubs (knopkieries). I went up to the leader, looked him in the eye, smiled and shook his hand. Showing respect from a source of powerful humility within caught him by surprise. It was visible on his face, and parts of the crowd started to calm down. The leader asked me to sign a paper to acknowledge their request of R150/day.

This was quite strange as I am not their employer, but as they were only asking for acknowledgement of their request I signed.  The group was still chanting “Viva!” and “Amandla!” So I asked the leader if I could speak to the people which resulted in another look of surprise. He turned around and showed the masses to quiet down. They passed a megaphone to me. It became dead quiet.

This isn’t the kind of unprepared oral they teach you at school. I can’t remember all I said, but I do remember that I spoke hope and encouragement. I looked at them and loved them. I encouraged them not to lose hope and to hang on to the dream. I told them our fight is not against flesh. I told them that we are brothers and sisters and that we should talk, not fight. They asked me what I think of the R150 request. “Personally I wish it could be 250, 350 or a thousand. But it isn’t realistic,” I said. I told them to look around them, to see the standard of the housing we provide, to consider the fact that Weltevrede pays on average 80% above the minimum wage set by government and has never failed upping that annually. But still I admitted there is still much to change, I admitted that there is always room for improvement, but we need to build together to sustain the economy of our valley and the realisation of that dream. “Let’s not break down,” I said, while in the corner of my eye I saw smoke coming from one of my Chardonnay vineyards. “We have to build,” I continued.

We have a choice to be negative or positive, despite our circumstances. The words we speak can spark destruction or it can spark life. I told them I know their conditions and we all need to work hand in hand, step by step, to bring change. But we also need to be patient. Change doesn’t come overnight. And the “Viva!” and “Amandla!” was exchanged for shouts of “Amen!” People from the crowd came pressing up against me, all wanting to shake my hand. One man came up to me and said, “I shake your hand, Mr.  Jonker, not because of what you just said, but for what you do in the community.” I couldn’t think of what he refers to.

Maybe it is Kinderkerk? Maybe it is simply the spirit in me they sensed, as people do sense attitude. Maybe it is the fact that God prompted me several years ago to walk the dusty roads of the local squatter camp and engage with cast out people, to sit in the dust and to tell them that Jesus came with good news to the poor, to heal the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty for captives, recovery of sight to the blind, to set at liberty the oppressed, to proclaim a new day.

This morning Lindizwe sent me this Scripture. It has helped me navigate my way forward. Proverbs 29: 7,8: “The righteous considers the cause of the poor, but the wicked does not understands such knowledge. Scoffers set a city aflame, but wise men turn away wrath.” This is not a time to show force, but powerful humility.

The last wishes of Alexander the Great:





The last wishes of Alexander the Great:


On his death bed, Alexander summoned his generals and told them his three ultimate wishes:

1. The best doctors should carry his coffin;
2. The wealth he has accumulated (money, gold, precious stones…) should be scattered along the procession to the cemetery, and
3. His hands should be let loose, hanging outside the coffin for all to see!!

One of his general who was surprised by these unusual requests asked Alexander to explain.

Here is what Alexander the Great had to say:

1. I want the best doctors to carry my coffin to demonstrate that, in the face of death, even the best doctors in the world have no power to heal;


2. I want the road to be covered with my treasure so that everybody sees that material wealth acquired on earth, stays on earth…

3.   And, about my third wish of having my hands dangling out of the  coffin, I wish people to know that I came empty handed into this world  and empty handed I go out of this world.”