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Webtuiste van die Faceboek Groep Reenval in SA

Weer Stories


A meteorology professor stood before his Meteorology 101 class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly he picked up a very large and empty glass mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

The professor then picked up a jar of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles, of course, rolled into the open spaces between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar and of course the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with an unanimous yes.

The professor then produced two cans of beer from under the table and then proceeded to pour the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the grains of sand. The students laughed.

"Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things -- your family, your partner, your health, your children, your friends, your favorite passions -- things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.

"The pebbles are the other things that matter, like your job, your house, your car. The sand is everything else -- the small stuff.

"If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for your life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out dancing. Play another 18.

"There will always be time to go to work, clean the house, give a dinner party and fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first -- the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the beer represented. The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of beers." 

Die storie agter die Darlington dam(Lake Mentz)

Bron : Onbekend

An interesting story behind Darlington Dam.

P.W.F. Weyers, a former hawker, who lost cattle in an attack by the Boers during the Anglo-Boer War, was said to have started Darlington farm in the Jansenville district. He always said that the Boers had shot his animals in the Bedrogsfontein Pass.

Weyers settled on Darlington in the fertile Sundays River Valley in 1905 and planted fruit orchards and vineyards. Later a hotel, post office, shop, smithy, house and several outbuildings were established on the farm and later still they all disappeared under waters of Lake Mentz (Darlington Dam) when it was established in 1922.

This huge dam was created to supply citrus farmers further down in the Sundays River Valley with irrigation water for their trees. Weyers left the farm and it had other owners among them Dr Reginald Koettlitz, who accompanied Captain Robert Falcon Scott on his first

Antarctic expedition as senior medical officer. Some say that the doctor was blamed when some of the men of the expedition contracted scurvy and that this led him to come to South Africa to settle in the Karoo. But, he was not the only famous man to have contact with this farm and dam. The first chairman of the irrigation board responsible for the building of the dam was none other than Sir Percy Fitzpatrick, author of Jock of the Bushveld.

And, even the name of the dam has a good story attached to it. Piet van Niekerk, of Drive Out Magazine (August / September, 2007) wrote:

"According to local legend the then minister of land affairs, Colonel Hendrik Mentz, who had granted permission for the building of the dam, was not exactly a popular fellow, so when it was suggested that the dam be named after him, some irate person loudly exclaimed: 'Oh, damn Mentz!' To which he received a polite reply: 'No, no, just Lake Mentz, will do!"'

In the 1990s the 'lake' was renamed the Darlington Dam.

Extract from Roses Roundup. Lake Mentz construction commenced in 1918, and was completed in 1924. As had been envisaged from the start, the capacity of the lake became progressively reduced by silting. The wall was raised by 1,5 metres which had the effect of restoring the capacity. The accumulation of silt had by 1946 again reduced the capacity. In 1949 the wall was raised a further 5,8 metres. When the servitude proceedings came before the Water Court it was agreed that nothing further in the future could be done for Lake Mentz by way of increasing its storage capacity.

Commenting on the probable life of the dam the presiding judge said: "We are of opinion that, in the conflict of admittedly theoretical opinion, the safest figures to adopt on the probabilities is somewhere between 35 and 40 years (from 1949), at which stage (a) the dam will have ceased to function effectively and (b) the servitude area will have been completely silted up".

In 1924, Philip Weyer, the main owner of land inundated by Lake Mentz, was awarded £27 000 compensation.

Following the raising of the wall by 5,8 metres in 1949, Weyer's successor, Bertram Henderson, was granted just under £40 000 the event being described at the time in these words:

"The action arose as a result of the raising of the wall at Lake Mentz, and was heard at Somerset East during November and December. It lasted nearly a month and witnesses came from all over the country. From the judgment it appears the Respondent did well on his land valuations which were substantially sustained by the Court".

Today, Darlington Dam has been incorporated into the Addo Elephant National Park, adding to the attraction for tourists to the Park.


Karoo Vrouens

Skrywer : Hester Obermeyer


Dis hier waar dit die norm is dat vrouens bakkies as “dorpskarre” het, want ñ ekonomiese klein karretjie gaan ons nie veilig op die plaas kry nie. Ons ruil ons eie bande en ons weet hoe om te maak as elke liggie aankom, want selfoonsein is nie so vollop soos asemhaal hier nie. 
Die vrouens hier is of ñ juffrou of sy werk in die mediese veld of sy doen haar boer se boeke op die plaas of sy is kreatief en hou haarself besig. En dis okay, want elkeen het ñ belangriker rol as wat enige een van buite ooit sal verstaan. 
Hier kan ons nie vir jou vooraf sê wat ons naweekplanne is nie, want ons is elke naweek so besig dat ons nie regtig weet waarmee nie. Ons kuier bymekaar, ons ken ons bure en ons weet van elke nuweling in die dorp; ñ voorreg wat byna geen stadsjapie ooit sal verstaan nie. Jy dink so baie kere hier dat jy alleen is, dat die “spulletjie” hier net oor en weer skinder, maar hou jou kant skoon en kom nou regtig in die nood.... en jy sal sien hoe jy baie meer opregte ondersteuning en omgee sal ervaar as wat enige persoon in die stad ooit sal ken. Dis wanneer ons, ons “vaal, vervelige” platteland opnuut waardeer. 
Stadsjapies dink ons is vreemd, want hoe oorleef ons met net n OK, n PEP en dalk een eetplek?? 
Maar... ons doen en ons LEEF! Ons raak opgewonde oor die nuwe koffiebekers wat PEP nou aanhou en die vars groente en vrugte wat OK ingekry het. Hier bly die mense se voete op die grond, want ons weet dat alles in die lewe nie as vanselfsprekend aanvaar kan word nie. 
Hier is die mense dankbaar. Ons raak almal soos kinders as dit reën, want ons VERSTAAN die waarde van elke liewe druppel wat val. Want WATER IS LEWE. 
Die vrouens hier kan byna almal kook en koekbak, want die Kerkbasaar moet elke jaar iets lekkers hê om te koop, die bakkery is te ver. 
Ons is innig lief vir ons omgewing, lief vir ons diere en lief vir mekaar... al lyk dit nie elke dag so nie. 
Hoe lekker hierdie alles ook klink, is hierdie eenvoud beslis nie vir almal gemaak nie. Dit is ñ baie unieke tipe mens wat van buite hier kan aanpas en die lewe hier sal verstaan. Ons huise is altyd vol kuiergaste uit die stad en elkeen “raak verlief op die plaaslewe”, maaaaaar... 
Dit vat ñ spesiale tipe mens om hier te kan bly vir die res van sy lewe en hier ñ lewe te kan maak, want hier moet jy regtig okay wees met jouself.


Boesman Weervoorspelling 

Skrywer : Onbekend

Dit is April en die Boesmans in die Kalahari vra hulle nuwe stamhoof “Spaarwater Kruiper” of dit hierdie winter matig of koud gaan wees. Omdat hy stamhoof is in meer moderne tye, het hy nooit die ou geheime geleer nie. Wanneer hy die lug bestudeer, kan hy nie voorspel hoe die winter gaan wees nie.

Nieteenstaande het hy besluit om dit veilig te speel en hy verklaar dat dit ‘n koue winter gaan wees en hulle moet begin brandhout bymekaar maak ter voorbereiding. Hy is egter ‘n praktiese man en na ‘n paar dae kry hy ‘n plan. Hy stap na ‘n publieke telefoon by die nasionale pad, skakel die weerburo en vra, “Gaan die komende winter koud wees in die Kalahari?” “Ja dit lyk so.” bevestig die een wat geantwoord het.

Hy gaan terug na die stam en gee instruksie dat hulle nog meer hout bymekaar moet maak. ‘n Week later skakel hy weer die weerburo. “Lyk dit nog steeds na ‘n baie koue winter?” vra hy “Ja, dit gaan baie koud wees.” Kom die antwoord.

Hy gaan terug en beveel hulle om elke stukkie hout wat hulle kan vind, op te tel. Na twee weke skakel hy weer. “Is julle heeltemal seker dat dit baie koud gaan wees?” vra hy “Absoluut” kom die antwoord, “dit lyk al hoe meer of dit een van die koudste winters ooit gaan wees.” “Wat maak julle so seker?” “Ons satelliet fotos wys die Boesmans maak bedonnerd hout bymekaar, en hulle is nooit verkeerd nie.

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Pasop vir Vloede

Teresa Louw.

Ons het eenjaar van Vosburg (pragtige vriendelike plek) gery, al met die plaaspaaie/grondpaaie (voelkykers) in Februariemaand oppad Kaap toe. Ons het die vorige Des dieselfde pad gery, toe was dit droog, oop, skoon. Erens het die pad baie vlak water gekry en toe ons by brug kom, was dit in vloed, ons moes terugdraai en toe was die water hoer as met die aankom slag.

Met die terugry het ons besef hoër op in die rivier moes die water oorgekom het en afgestroom het. Maw ons het na die rivier gery en die water het van die kante kms voor die brug oor die pad geloop. Ons ken niks van dit nie en was amper in baie groot moeilikheid. Gelukkig nie. Dalk moet paaie vloed waarskuwing bordjies ophê met die reënmaande op. Dit gebeur SO vinnig. Besoekers ken nie ander omgewings se sake nie. 🌼

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Die Bevelvoerder en die weer
Chris Alberts Jnr.
Die weer sukkel om almal tevrede te hou... Óf dit reën te vroeg, te laat, te veel óf glad nie. Dieselfde met die winde. 
Hier volg 'n storietjie wat werklik gebeur het en hopelik vir iemand bietjie perspektief kan gee: In die goeie ou Weermagdae besoek ek Oom Danie se kommando op inspeksie. Hy was vir die afgelope 40 jaar voltyds 'n koringboer op turfgrond in die Haelgordel en deeltyds bevelvoerder van die plaaslike kommando om die plaaslike Volk teen die Rooi Gevaar te beskerm 

Ná die inspeksie nooi Oom Danie my na die Offisierskroeg vir 'n "Vinnige Enetjie" voor ek pad vat. Soos die gebruik was, sluit al sy sleutelpersoneel - almal vrywillge burgerlikes soos hy - aan vir "'die Vinnige Enetjie". Almal was óf koringboere soos hy óf was op een of ander manier gekoppel daaraan. Sug Sarel die 2IB, " As dit hierdie jaar kom hael, is my oes in sy moer in, want ek het nie my oes verseker nie..." 

Frank die RSM sit so links van hom, vat 'n diep teug aan sy Castle en sê met sulke wilde ogies, "Weet jy in watter groot k*k ék gaan wees as dit níé kom hael nie? Ek het R700 Duisend versekering op my oes uitgeneem en as dit nie kom hael nie, kan ek nie my nuwe John Deere trekker se paaiemente bekostig nie!" 
En só sit en glimlag Frank die Sentra-oes rep en die Adjudant van die kommando...

Toe praat Oom Danie: "Manne", sê hy, " Ek boer nou al 44 jaar met koring in die Haelgordel en nog nooit het ek my oes verseker nie. Want julle sien, koring is brood en brood verseker jy nie... In al hierdie jare het ek steeds 'n manier gevind om sonder enige skuld te oorleef. As die hael kom, druk ek net die stroper nóg laer in om die geknakte are ook op te tel. Selfs met so 'n oes sal jy genoeg hê om elke Sondag ook in die kollektesakkie te gooi..." 
Hoe nederig.
Het jy 'n mooi storie. Stuur dit vir ons per e-pos na ReenvalSA en merk "Storie"
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