Mama’s Boy

Mama’s Boy

It’s used in condescension. The name for sissies and weaklings who haven’t outgrown their mother’s skirts. It resents the boy that clings longer, harder, tighter than he should. It is a label, sticky and hard to peel off. But sometimes the boy is...
18 years and half my life

18 years and half my life

My father sat in the pew of a church in Philadelphia with a slip of paper in his hands. The cold encamped outside was a far cry from the mosquito hot shores of South Africa. Three years. He had brought his young family Stateside for three years to add a Masters of...

My Zululand; My Birthday

Click on the link below (twice) to download and listen to an audio recording of me reading today’s post. Once it’s loaded you can come back to this page to read along. My Zululand; My Birthday Under the boughs of the mango groves in the heat of the hot,...