Of Times Gone By - Kleinplasie Farm Museum

My afternoon ends with a monkeys wedding, the drops are very small, more like a drizzle, but irresistible.  Couldn’t really call the wet spot on the cement porch next door a puddle, but I did it, my first umbrella shot for the winter.  I do believe it's in sympathy with the lousy Bridge hands I had all afternoon.

My ungraceful fall  on the steps on Saturday prompted me to look down today instead of up and look what I got, my feet mostly, and a gaggle of geese, instead of running away they all came rushing towards me, thankfully the ostrich kept his distance.  The avenue of trees in a quiet neighbourhood a stark contrast to much of what I encountered a mere kilometer away.

What I found at our Kleinplasie Museum left me shocked and nauseated.  The once well kept grounds are neglected, filthy and unkept; the  farm implements which were so loving restored and donated by farmers in the district are dilapidated.  The wood is rotting and the steel rusting away in disuse and abandonment.  Chickens are now roosting in the threshing machines and bees are making their hives in there too.    The floors are littered with feathers and manure.  As a community we should be ashamed.  I am horrified.

I wonder whether the animals roaming around are being fed or do they have to survive on eating the lawns?   The small dam is filthy, green with sludge.  

Although it wasn’t yet one o’clock (when overpaid civil servants go for lunch) the Museum was locked, a Trellidor bars one from entering the once inviting shop. The only sign of life was the green glow of a computer screen.  

Is this what we’ve been reduced to?   If it is, shame on us as a community. “If you don't know history, then you don't know anything. You are a leaf that doesn't know it is part of a tree. ”

― Michael Crichton

George Orwell said it so well: “The most effective way to destroy people is to deny and obliterate their own understanding of their history.”

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