Of potatoes, parents and lion tamers

Of potatoes, parents and lion tamers

I stand at the sink and peel potatoes I feel the hard grit and sand under my nails and the hot water washing over my hands. I peel and watch the skin skein back and the white flesh of the bulb appear. I peel and I hear my son from his back bedroom. He is a tornado of...
Why I dance in the rain

Why I dance in the rain

I was born and raised in South Africa – third, fourth, fifth generation – and all my childhood memories of vacations are from the dry flat landscape of the Karoo. Stark unrelenting miles of dusky golds and browns interrupted only by bitter faced mountains and lonely...