Yesterday was Human Rights Day in South Africa. It was also a beautiful early autumn day, the breeze slightly chilly, but the sun still hot enough to bare skin. This is our neighbourhood. This is where we’ve been coming to spend winter. This is what it looks like on a sunny public holiday in March.
If you were to ask me ten years ago what I wanted to be when I grow up, I most likely would have said “a writer.” Now, if you ask me what I want to be, I’ll tell you that I have no idea. I don’t want to be anything. I don’t want to be categorized […]
Home is where I kiss boo-boos on tiny extended fingers and blot tears from slippery cheeks. Home is where I wipe the thick greasy layer of dirt from the bath tub and wonder daily how two little people can attract quite so much filth. Home is where delicious smells are greeted by grateful exclamations. “Daddy. […]