There’s a time to come and a time to go is both cliché and truism. And I’ve always agreed with the sentiment. Now you’d probably ask, “Then why are you still around?”
I plead guilty, but in mitigation, the editors and readers, through tolerance and empathy, have allowed Slow Lane to keep open for old skiddonks. Sincere thanks, you’ve kept an octogenarian happy and mentally active – with sub-editor Liryke watching out for bad grammar, syntax and spelling with beady eye.
We also blame Peter Moolman, MD of Group Editors, for firstly getting us involved with the newspapers, then introducing us to Earp Construction, the developers of Urban Village, our happy home for the last decade.
To say we got to love George and environment is an understatement, because here we found a myriad wonderful friends in all walks of life. For example, my Heidi considers George Virgin Active her lifeline.
Here, she was from the outset, accepted as part and parcel of what she calls a unique friendship circle. This, coupled to Claire’s charitable crochet club and Pamela’s line dancing class, gave her many joyous hours.
And there’s our Dr Evert vd H. He timeously diagnosed serious heart problems and hastily referred us to arguably the best heart surgeons in SA at Bayview Life Mediclinic in Mossel Bay. We are both very much alive today, thanks to a professional and caring medical fraternity.
The Eye Clinic and Anriette’s Visionary sorted out cataracts, refractive errors and macular degeneration. We’re now able to see eye to eye.
And where in the world would you find a barber, the likes of Koos N and his two lady hairdressers? Throughout my life I suffered an offending cowlick, giving me a lopsided look. They’re the only ones who know how to hide the stupid cow. The pervading humour in the shop and pensioners’ discount were added attractions.
For 10 years I’ve enjoyed a monthly Portuguese steak with my good friend John McD (also a former Joburger). As the Traveling Chef he knows his cuts so no chancer chef will get away with an inferior fillet. The Outenique bowling club created the right atmosphere for convivial sessions.
Our favourite restaurants included Salinas and Fat Fish. Always good meals and special treatment from restaurateurs Massimo and Johan. We still miss the erstwhile La Locanda run by pukka Italians. Had many enjoyable times over homemade pastas.
The list goes on, but space is at a premium so I must end this belated epistle.
We will be undergoing metamorphosis from Georgians to Mountain Goats – undoubtedly a painful transformation, but age, health and family infrastructure dictate terms. For starters, we exit the Slow Lane with heavy hearts. If you see a wet spot in the text, it’s not a tear drop because cowboys don’t cry. But then, I’ve never been a cowboy.