Moontan

For our anniversary, Kobra invited Anne and Waldo over for the day. Hmm, OK, perhaps not factually correct, but it sounded better that way.

In truth Anne and I were talking on the phone last weekend, and we decided to overrule our respective hubbies and organise something for today. The fact that it’s our anniversary this weekend and theirs next month was coincidental.

I love both of them to bits (and I’ve known Anne for more than 11 years now), but she won me forever (again) when she walked in with a ‘melktert’. If you don’t know, don’t ask. You can read the Wikipedia entry, but that’s the same difference as hearing about electricity and licking the wires.

The girls loved having the Afrikaans people around, and we had a tough time getting some decent conversation. Although, with Waldo around ‘decent’ conversation don’t last long ;-). Thankfully!

A wonderful afternoon was obviously had by all. Typical immigrants, we spent some time discussing the new HSMP rules and it’s implications. Anne just went through the process of putting together her boss’ successful application, so she is also quite clued up about it.

Waldo completed his honours in digital film making, so we always have lots to discuss. It seems he will now go on to do his master’s as well, as it will serve the dual function of increasing his chances for an HSMP as well as allowing them to stay in-country on a study visa.

Kobra made her fabulous vegetarian pasta with a massive salad - which even I couldn’t finish. At dessert time we wondered how we could save the leftover melktert, as Anne would obviously need to take her bowl back home.

Not to worry. There was nothing left to save. Each of us had about three slices, and I didn’t realise how much I missed melktert. It’s more than a South African ‘thing’. I used to stay with my great-grandmother who made the best melktert a 10-year old boy could ask for. Today still every slice I have reminds me of her. It was a special moment for me when I watched my younger daughter enjoy her slice of melktert - she shares her names with my great-grandmother. Elfie inherited the (full set of) names from my mother, who inherited it from her grandmother.

Of course, all this sentimentality was completely lost on my two girls who merely stuffed themselves with as much sugar as possible. They probably thought the tear in their father’s eye was from the overfull cramping stomachs they themselves also had.