RICHMAINE

Poof & Gone

ARE YOUR DREAMS GOING UP IN SMOKE?

Do you dream or should I say, how often do you dream?

But what is a dream? Is it that state of mind, that semi-comatose state we become when we sleep? Is it perhaps that time of day in the heat of the moment or midday sun? (when mad dogs and Englishmen go out to play) That time in a dream world we become daydreamers, remembering the past or thinking of the future? Remembering pleasant times with a loved one, a vacation or a sporting triumph. Perhaps we might be anticipating an adventure?

Daydreaming and we will call it that can be fruitful when used appropriately and economically… Let me explain: When I was much younger, I dreamed up the property, house and even town I would live in. The reality was a huge contrast to the dream. From my ethereal estate, I ended up in a bedsit in Birmingham. Yet I can remember dreaming about a schedule for a trip down to the last detail and it actually turned out to be accurate.

Whether it’s comatose dreaming or day-dreaming, God can and will use those times to reach, teach and show us things for ourselves and others. Use your day-dreaming for the Kingdom.

Don't let a vision go up in smoke because you didn’t ask God for more. It is quite natural to receive a dream from God. What we need to ask for is the gift of discernment and also revelation. How else might we know what to do with the dream?

God gives us a vision which leads us on to a purpose and a plan for our lives. It is these simple steps that, when understood, take us on to our destiny.

Dreams might not necessary be for you, but for someone else. In these instances, God is using us to pass on the dream, word or even prophesy to the person concerned. It could be that someone has a word or dream for you!

The patriarch Joseph was used by God to bring about prophesy through dreams. Apart from his brothers (who were later set free by the truth of his dreams) all the others – The cup bearer, baker and Pharaoh believed him. Gen 37:5 – 11 And in Gen. 50: 20/21 we read how God is faithful to us, even though many times we need to go through the refiner’s fire.

Solomon writes in Eccl. 5:3 that we are to take heed of God's vision & not the imaginations of a fool.

Direction

IN HIS WAY

When you think you need a friend...

When you cry for tender care then you know it’s time to trust in the Lord Trust in his way...

Trust in his love. Only Jesus can bring you through… the pain and on to victory.

Should you want to stray trust in his love. Trust in his way.

Take that friend who needs you now looking and crying for tender love and show them it’s time to… Trust in the Lord.

A series on the ports of the N E Aberdeenshire,Scotland...

The Doric ports

Driving along the northern coast line of Aberdeenshire and Moray in Scotland finds an abundance of small harbours. Most of them handle smaller fishing vessels but Buckie and Macduff deal with larger craft plus they have dry dock facilities.

For a great day out and a wonderful way to explore this not so well known region, you can’t ask for a better idea. Buckie is also home to the marine research vessel for the Moray Firth which is the intake to Inverness and the magnificent Loch Ness beyond.

Coastal cargo vessels and even small cruise liners berth in Buckie.

Findocherty,Portknockie,Cullen Sandend,Portsoy and Whitehills are all small and mainly fishing ports with wonderful folk and memorable stories to tell of when the fish were abundant and the EU was unheard of.

Banff has a slightly larger port and like Buckie also has its own coast guard station. Recently the British actor and writer-Timothy Spall(of Aufwedersein Pet fame) and his wife were berthed in the port. Spall has been navigating around the British Isles in his converted barge. Read more in Practical Travel

Macduff has a closely knit fishing community that has seen some very difficult times recently.

Gardenstown is a little further along the coast and boasts one of the loveliest areas in the region.

Pennan is also just around the corner to it with a very steep gradient approach to this wee village remembered fondly for the back drop to the film ‘Local Hero’.

GARDENSTOWN

After spending most of his working life at sea serving on fishing vessels Michael Watt has put himself back on land and is now the harbour master for Gardenstown.

The Gardenstown parish vote for a master every 3 years and Watt says he enjoys the work. The Watt family are Gardenstown through and through with generations filling the history books of Gamrie. Michael and his family are an integral part of the region. The family are still involved in the fishing industry owning 2 vessels which are berthed at Frasurburg and Peterhead.

Watt now also runs a net factory near to Gardenstown and I spoke to him there in quaint and beautiful surroundings. Although it is hard work Watt says, he enjoys the voluntary dealing with the locals and the craft. He has become a familiar face down at the docks. He deals with mostly leisure boats totalling over 70 vessels which call Gardenstown their home.

Recently the harbour hosted the Reaper which is a herring drifter fishing boat from Anstruther Fishing Museum in Fife which has been visiting various ports. The Reaper is over a hundred years old and has become a special attraction to the visiting public.

Gardenstown harbour has, like all the other ports on this coast line, a large drop in the water level at low tide with vessels stranded on the harbour floor. Planning times for sea trips from this region is a very essential part of the routine.

The town is a haven for retirees and former fishermen. It is certainly one of the loveliest villages in Northern Scotland although this is tempered by the difficult accessibility in winters. It also shares and bears the sorry tale of the fishing industry displayed by its small number of working vessels. In its heyday the port had over 50 ocean going vessels that operated out of the larger ports but crewed by Gardenstown people.

Michael Watt was involved in rescuing some minors from the ocean in his own boat recently but says that the safety record has been very good in his tenure. He did though have a scare when he was fishing on one of his ocean vessels. They were taking in sea water but had assistance from the rescue authorities and other vessels before making their way back to safe harbour.

BANFF & MACDUFF

In 2007 the Banff harbour was converted in to a marina with just small fishing vessels and lobsters pot fishing boats allowed to use the marina. Larger boats used Macduff harbour… a stone’s throw away. Since 2007 more development have taken place attracting the leisure industry with more berths in the marina.

Initially Banff harbour was a sandbank called the Bar in the Deveron River estuary. It became a harbour proper in 1625 when Guthrie’s Haven was built in the inner basin. John Smeaton, a civil engineer made improvements in 1770 and in 1818. Thomas Telford built the Lighthouse Quay.

During the height of the herring period Banff could accommodate over 90 vessels. Whilst not as busy today, Macduff is still a working harbour with fishing, craft repair and ship building its major activities. Oil industry vessels often take shelter within easy reach of Macduff in the knowledge that there would be mechanical assistance should they need it.

Macduff harbour was built in 1770 seeing various changes through the years, the last being in 1966 when the Fish Market was built. Macduff was also one of the centers for boat building in the region specialising in the smaller vessels; the Clinker and the Carvel. Each was built differently…the Clinker had wooden planks lapped over each other to form the hull and then frames were fitted together to hold it together. The Carvel had frames erected first and then wooden planks butted together to form the hull. An effective seal between the planks was called caulking.

Herring fishing came to prominence in 1815. Companies manufacturing nets were springing up along the coast line as the fish became the most important in the region. And Macduff was no stranger to this silvery fish that put Britain and in particular Scotland on the international fishing map. In those 1800’s it was common to see the travelling circus of Herring Lassies who followed the catches across the northern coasts of Britain and Ireland, processing the catches which were brought in at first light. The women were also known as Gutting Quines and were often found working at the harbour with their gutting knives and fingers covered in clooties which was cloth to protect themselves from cuts..

During World War 1 many local fishermen were called into service with the Royal Naval Reserves. Their boats were requisitioned as minesweepers, patrol boats and tenders and given the HMD- His Majesty’s Drifters pennant. Local folk knew the waters well and were used effectively laying depth charges and also as disguised civilian vessels used for attacking German submarines.. The fishing nets were used to block entrances into harbours.

BUCKIE

As we hear time and time again…things aint what they used to be here either as well. I sat outside the Harbour Office overlooking the quaysides and activity on a pleasantly warm day. With me was Bill Murray the harbour master. He explained that because of the European quotas –squid was really the only viable catch which could also be caught quite locally and without quotas. Yet there were only a few doing that anyway.

Bill had also seen it all with a background in the navy, merchant navy and Scotland’s fishing fleet. Many of the Buckie registered boats hardly see the port as they work away so much with the workforce commuting to and from the various other ports, mostly further north. But it is the timber industry that brings in large amounts of revenue to Buckie's Port and the local authority; its overseer. Much of the wood is felled within the Moray region plus that from further afield. Ironically a lot of it shipped to Scandinavia where it is turned into paper mulch. Recently, though, there was a report stating that Scottish timber had improved to the degree it was worthy of being used on British housing. Previously the wood had to be imported…from Scandinavia.

Coasters plying the British waters also call in regularly bringing malt for the whiskey industry and other agricultural products such as barley, sugar beet as well as salt and soya. By products of animal feed are then shipped out to Belgium and Ireland adding to Buckie’s international flavour.

The pilot boat is used occasionally for those skippers who request their assistance. The reef just outside the harbour can be a bit tricky for those new to the port. But with the modern bow thrusters that vessels have now a days it leaves little for the common port tug to do.

The heritage centre in the town is a wealth of information, often concentrating on the History of Fishing in the area and well worth a visit.

PENNAN

Pennan…Banffshire’s claim to Hollywood...

Before Burt Lancaster made the name of Pennan famous in the film Local Hero, the village had been a literal quiet backwater with stunning surrounds. After the furore had died down it was once again the quaint and quiet village.

It still attracts the serious movie aficionados who want a look at that famous red phone booth…in fact the red booth is a national dying breed!

The harbour was built in 1704 but after disrepair was resurrected in 1799. Again it fell into disuse in 1840 but was rebuilt five years later and lasted until a huge storm destroyed the west pier in 1899. It was replaced and improved in subsequent years 1903, 1909 and 1981. The tiny harbour has been traditionally used for small fishing vessels but today it is the leisure industry that sustains this idyllic port. The harbour was used for shipping stone from a local quarry in the nineteenth century.

In 2007 a damaging storm brought down landslides threatening to demolish the hamlet. Thankfully protecting measures and rebuilding brought life back to Pennan. These days’ tourists still flock to this port with its one street and row of pretty houses.

WHITEHILLS

Banffshire best kept Secret. The tiny port in this pristine village is one of friendliness, cleanliness and efficiency. From reports that have come throughout the years, Whitehill’s port is a favoured location. A little smaller than its near neighbour of Banff, Whitehills offers a service of 43 berths now only to leisure craft.

But it was very different many years ago. In fact, on the small area along the local coast there have been three other harbours prior to the present one. Only silt dredging every few years is needed now to keep the entrance passage open.

Whitehills is also unique in that it is independent of local authority and is run by the community through a board of Commissioners. The harbour office is manned by a full time employee; Harbour Master Bernie Milne who came out of the fishing industry where he used an old wooden hulled boat, the Budding Rose. He said that in the days when the harbours were nothing more than a safe haven, the women would carry the men folk out to the boats keeping them dry. This begs the question…Would women do that today and would they have the strength to?

Clearly they made them of sterner stuff in those days. In those long gone days with the community being more insular and made up of only four to five families, life was a daily survival. The fish would be taken down to Ladiesbridge where the market operated. Because of the many common names families and individuals had nick name or names to identify themselves by. It wasn’t until 1890 that the main subscription began to raise funds for the harbour that we now see in Whitehills. Truly this is a harbour by the people for the people run with the community hand in hand. Roger Taylor is a keen yachtsman from England who uses Whitehills as a launching berth to the far north and I mean places like Iceland and Greenland. Brrr…rather him than me.

PORTSOY

This small and pretty coastal town in North Aberdeenshire in Scotland boasts two harbours…the old and the new. The old harbour dates back to 1697 but the first harbour dates back to when Mary-Queen of Scots signed the charter establishing Portsoy as a burgh in 1550.

If you look carefully you will see water depth measure carvings at the entrance to the old harbour. 1839 saw terrific storms and the old harbour had to be extensively repaired but much did remain because of the decision to use large stones when initially building the harbour walls.

During the herring hey days the harbours were full of drifters, the most popular being the Skaffie’s and Zulu’s. Portsoy helped itself by having its own salt works. As boats got bigger and with the introduction of steam power,vessels moved to Buckie or Macduff.

But the Macdonald Brothers engineering firm manufactured many types of equipment including the steam capstan known as the Iron Man. This used to help bring in the nets.

Portsoy marble is famed and was shipped out all over the world,some of it to King Louis XIV’s palace of Versailles. Today it is just the leisure industry that frequents the harbour with the odd creel and lobster boat.

Offcourse Portsoy holds the annual Boat Festival which attracts visitors from distant shores as well. The Salmon Bothy in Portsoy was restored in 2008 and is now a museum and exhibition centre. Apparently the acoustics there are just right bringing pleasure for audiences for the Scottish Folk Music Concerts

For Jesus

A PSALM

 Whenever I am weak you make me strong.

Whenever I am sad you make my heart sing.

If I am slow-you quicken my stride.

You remind me of my pride, my ego and intolerance... for these things are an abhorrence to you.

You are my protector and deliverer but most of all Jesus, you are my Lord, Saviour and friend.

The Days to Come

 TURNING SCREWS

INTRO

The phrase often heard in today’s Christian society and circles…End times or the Day of the Lord or Tribulation is nearing all generally means the same thing. Sadly many believers are ignorant about the timing, event and events leading up to tribulation itself. Events leading up to tribulation will seem like a picnic compared to the last part of the seven year tribulation period.

In fact I believe we have already entered the period that will lead into tribulation as we near… The Day of the Lord.

Let’s take a look at some of the references that apply to this time. Those being from the Word of God!

Daniel Ch. 12- …and there will be a time of trouble such as never was since there was a nation… The whole chapter is a prophesy about end times. Our Lord Jesus spoke about the end times in Luke Ch 21- …there will be signs in the sun and the moon and the stars and on earth distress of nations… …then they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. This point was also referenced in the other gospels. Paul the apostle talked often about this matter in many of the books of the New Testament which he wrote.

The book of Revelations, (often misunderstood and frankly ignored because many Christians want it simple in their own minds and are not prepared to wait for divine revelation in their hearts about the true meaning and understanding of this book) is from beginning to end about the end times and times there after. There are frightening parts but wonderful parts and off course for those who are in the brethren of believers, the final victory!

One of the later apostles, John, wrote this account of his revelation from God. It was more that John was taken into God’s presence in the spiritual realm and actually shown the events to come. Revelation informs us of the signs heralding Christ’s return, his seat on the earthly throne (he, always being the only king), his 1,000 year reign, where transformation of a supernatural and magnificent kind will take place. Finally earth being transformed into, once again a perfect state, God the Father will inhabit, walk and talk with his people.

THE SIGNS

We already see an increasing chaos in weather, natural disasters, wars, famine,financial upheaval & desease. Whilst these things will be on a huge scale, it will be as nothing compared to what is to follow.

The biblical Seven Seals will be followed by the Seven Trumpets and by the Seven Plagues resulting in the final battle, Armageddon where Jesus will intervene and defeat all the human, satanic armies (this is all very clear to follow in the Bible) Past, Present and Future.

What baffles me is that we have so many methods and ways of functioning in the Christian church today which are so different from the examples of the early church, so vividly displayed in the first century, laid out so clearly in the book of Acts. That (the early church) certainly has to be the example we should and must aspire to!

What happened in these 4,000 years then? Well in a nutshell…man…and his ego…pride…need for power and off course self glorification. These are all powerful sins against God and an abomination. We are told that the heart above all things is deceitful (Jer 17:9)

BE AWARE

Sadly the global church is no better in many ways than the world around us. It seems to me, having visited and experienced many and different types of churches that they (the churches) often hold on to the world’s values. We are clearly instructed to be in this world but not part of it (Rom 12:2) Like the world today we have so many choices on every level. So it seems, particularly to the new believer when realizing how many denominations and versions of theology and practices there are.

When I was a new believer, I found this all a little confusing considering we all proclaim to worship the same God.

A fundamental part of the Hindu belief is that all roads lead to heaven. I guess one would have to believe that when there are over a million gods in their religion!

Even within the same Christian movement there can be significant differences, each proclaiming to have it right. So who is right or more accurately what is right? We have to hold to a standard to make decisions, to know right from wrong to understand righteousness and justification. We need that standard to decide on discipline and laws and the consequences of those laws; broken and otherwise.

I knew of a wise man who said these very things and was then confronted by a wayward youngster who said,' I decide what is right and wrong.' '

Fine,' said the wise man,' now I’m going to kill you!'(in jest)

'You can’t do that,' said the foolish youth.

'Why not it’s my decision and I think it’s right?' 

The youngster was aghast but it dawned on him that there needed to be a standard.

The Word of God is that standard

So how do we make the right decision in following the truth through the right theology?

Let me ask you this…can there be more than one truth and if so can we determine how many truths there can be? You see we need to realize there can only be one truth, like only one standard, that truth is what God has been telling us for 6,000 years through his prophets, scripture, epostles and off course God himself through the Saviour, Christ who became flesh and blood, walked and taught among us and then became the once and for all sacrifice in atonement for all sins and is now our intercessor to God the Father.(John 3:16)

The truth is quite simple…it’s the Word…follow it strictly and you are on the right path. Why is this astounding? Because movements proclaiming the following of the Word of God and his ways have in fact not been doing what they claim to be doing but taking ingredients from God’s Word and adding to it. We are told most sternly this is forbidden and the consequences dire! (1 John 4:1)

INVOLVEMENT

Talking to people when they are unprepared for a speaker....

One has to be very careful in dealing with this form of ministry as too often harm rather than help is achieved. Nevertheless it can be a convenient excuse to do nothing. Yet there are so many areas to get involved in. if you are in a right church with true believers, there will undoubtedly be some good programs. I empathise with those in a weak fellowship or worse! …I know, I’ve been there. Be careful of the movements that demand their fellowship take part in certain programs…because it is God’s will or every believer’s duty, often stating Jesus’ great commission as justification.

I once interviewed an amazing man, Bill Wilson, who heads up Metro Ministries in New York, or as he puts it... the biggest Sunday school in the world (metroministries.org) He mentioned something that changed my whole understanding of a calling.

He said, 'It’s not that we are called into something but that God gives us gifts in various fields…where there is an obvious need…some more than others…but that knowing what these gifts are, we are to clearly recognise what needs there are or needs to be done.'

Think about it…they stare us in the face. No need for some sign or for someone to push you.” And as for gifts… God, not man gives us gifts (Rom 12:6) Those gifts are for a specific purpose (the fact we so often run off and try and do other things and a multiplicity of things is not God’s fault, but ours alone) We are to operate in those gifts and when we do we see the fruit.

How many times have I seen people get pushed into areas they are clearly not equipped for simply because there is a perceived need for that activity? Rather than waiting on God to supply the expertise or training. Remember, not having the skills doesn’t mean the gifting is not there to develop that skill.

Also there are the church leaders who want themselves and others to excel in the five fold ministry: teaching, evangelism, pastoring, healing and preaching. Fantastic when God gives it, but very rare and certainly disastrous when man plays at god to ordain people into these gifts.

As a young boy I was involved in boy scouting and enjoyed it very much. There was the comradery, fellowship, values and principles that were the embodiment of the movement, areas so lacking in today’s society. We were given training in so many areas (typically making a fire with only a flint and cooking, using vegetation found in the vicinity) But the memory that remains strong with me all these years later were the manners,etiquette,loyalty,trust and helping those in need that was instilled into me.

Today in the church there will always be someone who needs something…I mean genuinely. I read some good teaching recently on how many of us there are in fellowship who are the grabbers, the takers and how few in the church who seem to supply all the needs for everyone. I don’t think paying your tithes qualifies one on that score alone as a giver. I’m talking about above and beyond.

Watch and pray and be wise as serpents and gentle as doves when you seek out what you can do to serve. Remember people are fickle and an unwise word or deed can do damage that could hinder further fruit. There’s a saying in the county of Yorkshire in Britain that says, there’s no’wt so queer as folk!

BEING VICTORIOUS

I have always marvelled at men who seem to walk with an air of supreme confidence. Certainly I have seen many in the world of business and management but also within God’s ministry. Sadly some of those were employing heretic ideas and theology! An actor or entertainer knows that the majority of their work is confidence or presence. It has been said of Frank Sinatra that he wasn’t a great singer but a terrific interpreter of songs as well as having a terrific presence. In fact I thought he was quite a good actor as well. Many books and speeches, seminars and conferences have been held on the subject of walking and living in victory. Now I am sure some of them were worth while and some will have been on the mark but surely the key to it all is to follow God’s Word closely and accurately.

Let’s not play around with the Word. Let us take it word for word and not add or take away from it. Let us follow what Jesus taught and not ignore what is inconvenient or uncomfortable remembering the consequences of such abuse (Pr 30:5 &6)

Let us ask our Lord for the help we need in our weakness so that we become strong in his strength and are able to walk with confidence and in victory!

Prayer

PSALM

 Lord I am weak but you are strong. My body thirsts for the flesh but my heart yearns for you. The god of this world fights me: but I am strong in you I can resist and he will flee, be my guiding light and my strength, be the power of courage within me. I look around me and see only evil. People devour people. The saints tremble; but look to you. The days are now numbered, the hour draws near, man continues in his folly and sees not the signs. Your word is a beacon and will be gloried throughout the universe. Speed the day when all men will have to bow and acknowledge you or be vanquished for ever.

Morales

TWO ENDS...NO CONNECTION

Is there a point in our lives when we no longer know the difference between right and wrong? Perhaps we did know, but time, our selfish and uncaring behavior and the influence of a bad society have paled our understanding of what is good or bad!

This is a look at the past, trying to understand it, and then knowing the truth when we are confronted with it.

In the gospel of John, when Jesus was speaking to the Jews, he said,'…and you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free…'

A point perhaps you have pondered before, is, whether a child is born bad or do they learn to be bad? I believe there are two answers here. Most children who turn bad have usually…had an influentially, poor upbringing mainly by parents or a parent. Often both parents are not married to each other. We live in a world where it now is, or can be, unusual to have a Godly family…where the parents meet, marry (because they are meant for each other through God bringing them together) and have children…strictly in that order. Statistics worldwide show it is only that formula and no other that has overwhelming success. The other answer is very real and sinister.

Evil is real and originates with the evil one (the devil or Satan) Falling into the clutches of Satan is a choice we can all make, everyday of our lives…or to resist him. We have a duty, each and every one of us, to follow the law of God (Exodus 20 in the Holy Bible) in verse 5 it states, the consequence of serving other gods…'I am the Lord your God,' says the Lord. He warns us of…visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children to the 3rd and 4th generations of those who hate him.

Satan has a plan and it is a simple but sadly an effective one with those who are ignorant of his power. He wants to destroy and kill, particularly believers, those who have a faith in Jesus Christ.

The devil was an arc-angel who was expelled from heaven to Earth and given domain over the “Earth kingdom”…he has been furious ever since Adam was created and wants to destroy all that God created. 2 Tim 2:26…and that they may come to their senses and escape the snare of the devil, having been taken captive by him to do his will…

The devil has accomplices. In his dirty work he has demons (also fallen angels kicked out of heaven with the devil) this unholy alliance are responsible for infiltrating minds of people. But the good news is; is that Jesus gives us a way out of this infiltration. A protection against Satan! It is imperative that people, universally understand these evil tactics of the devil so that he may be combated.

James 4:7…therefore submit to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you… At the rate the world is behaving and going, the devil is having much of things his own way. If you don’t believe it, look around! Ex-South African president Mandela made a sweeping statement  in saying that he thought Africa was doing fine. Surely this is an absurd and clearly incorrect statement. We see a continent wracked with poverty, corruption, war and famine. Blaming it on the former colonialists just won’t wash (it never could) or on the West or on the United States. It really is simply African countries avoiding their responsibilities…or something more sinister!

The truth is that politics in Africa and other despotic nations is an excuse for lining dictators’ pockets at the expense of their own people. It has been calculated that all the wealth pilfered by these ‘democratic dictators’ would balance the debt-laden books of all the continents they inhabit and put regular food on the table.

John 1:10-12…He was in the world, and the world was made through Him, and the world did not know Him. He came to His own, and His own did not receive Him. But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, to those who believe in His name…

Documentaries, travel programs, holiday packages are often advertised or broadcast on the media concerning the various ‘Getaways’. No matter how beautiful these locations are (and they are, because God and not man created them so) they can be fraught with danger! Because many  countries have tribes & cultures still practicing what is often, ignorantly referred to as religion or even voodoo and black magic, it is a breeding ground for all kinds of demonic activity.

People’s sin nature and the devil and his horde of demons work in tandem. Sometimes the devil has nothing to do as we in our depraved natures will do it for him. Don’t give the devil credit for all things bad. We are often very capable of evil at the highest level without his assistance. And where is all this operating? The realm of the spirit again and where do they (the demons) enjoy residing? Right where they are made to feel welcome off course.

The very fact that many countries are steeped in a history of unadulterated evil practices both politically and so called religiously, leaves a huge web needing to be untangled before any real progress can start to take place in these nations. It might be argued that there has been some progress in one or two countries…but has it been lasting? It tends to be simply cosmetic! Something to ponder… why has the world not dealt with people like Amin, Ghadaffi, Mugabi,Obama,Biden,Stalin,Pol Pot,Mao Zedong and others of the ilk in a manner that would show  leaders are interested in justice and not just more power!?

Let this writer bury a myth once and for all. World leaders and & the like have perpetuated the lie amongst themselves and the rest of the world that the colonialists brought nothing but misery and heart ache! Granted, some of the acts brought on by the European settlers and some of the laws introduced by them were wicked and wrong.

Wicked and wrong did I say? Look aound now and you will see a world that has not only copied and taken on certain of the colonialists methods but have excelled themselves with counts of torture, discrimination, annihilation, war and depravation to name but a few. Not to mention the lack of democratic government.

Often when democracy raises it frightened head  under the pretence of a fair voice, it is literally shot down again, never to be heard of again.

Reflections of Terror

THE CHERRY TREE

HISTORY

The estate had been in the Dean- Fargo family for generations. In fact one could go back as far as just after the English Civil War to trace ownership of Dean Hall. The people of England wanted to have a monarch again and after the years of Cromwell and republicanism, the beheaded King Charles’s son sat on the English throne.

Talbot Farm, now Dean Hall had been an upstanding, God-fearing, Christian home for a wealthy farmer, Henry Talbot; who had sided with the round heads of Cromwell. But after the new king was on the throne, Talbot and others who had supported Cromwell had their lives, property, and possessions forfeited to the crown. In other words, they were murdered and all they had was shared amongst the King’s family and friends.

Francis Deene was one such person. He was a cousin of the King and so Talbot’s farm became Deene Hall. The farmhouse was pulled down and the grand estate house was put up in its place. Somewhere along the way the Fargoe family became prominently entwined with the estate and so we arrive at our present day and find peace and tranquillity surrounding the estate.

The present Earl and owner of Dean Hall is Robert Dean-Fargo and his wife, Countess Cynthia. It is to Countess Cynthia we go and learn of the intrigue and secrets of Dean Hall.

SWEET DREAMS

The Countess walked out of the formidable oak-paneled door and across the immaculately kept lawn. She made her way to the large stone-built garden house. This was a house that a family of four would have found comfortable. Cynthia was a keen gardener and although the estate hired a team of professional men to take care of the horticulture, she had her patches; particularly the flower beds close to the house and around a cherry tree that she liked to take care of herself. The garden house had been built around the same time as the hall was put up and had always been the center for garden activity. The present head gardener had a little office in one of the rooms where he kept the paperwork and from where he issued the instructions to the team for the day. Not all the rooms were in present use. In the past, some of the gardeners lived in the rooms but now they were disused or had been allocated for storage. Cynthia had been meaning to do some scratching around, out of curiosity mainly and today was that day.

She looked in two of the storage rooms only to find they were pretty well crammed with all sorts of old gardening material, mechanical equipment, paint cans, and other assorted things. The third storage room however looked more promising. There were plenty of books and cardboard cartons full of more books and some dusty toys stacked on the shelves. She started looking in the cartons and flipped through cookbooks, how-to-do books, and various gardening books going back to the Victorian era and thought that some of these might fetch a good price at auction. The Countess made a mental note to talk to the Earl about it.

Something black caught her eye near the bottom of a pile of gardening manuals. It was very dusty and very old. Cynthia looked around and found a rag with which she used to wipe the book. It had ornate brass edging and a clasp that was locked; again she looked around and found a screwdriver which she used to pry open the clasp. It seemed to be held firmer with corrosion than the lock itself. After a few attempts, she prised it free.

Just then one of the junior gardeners entered, ‘Sorry Maam, I didn’t know you were here, ‘he was a little surprised. ‘I just want another rake. '

‘That’s fine,’ Cynthia smiled, thinking he had snuck away for a quick cigarette. ‘Please tell the others I don’t want to be disturbed in here for the next hour.’ The young man left, without his rake and Cynthia followed and locked the door. Now I shall be uninterrupted she thought.

                            …………………………………………………

The countess sat down in one of the gardener’s chairs and opened the black book. The pages were old and brittle and she was careful not to damage them. Amazingly the ink, written in a beautiful hand was in good condition. Cynthia was excited at the thought that she might be the first person to read the book apart from the author. She could see that it was some sort of journal as she turned the pages. Some days were blank, others were crammed full. Not a modern type diary but a homemade one where the writer wrote down the dates.

'The dates', thought Cynthia. She turned back to the front of the book and turned over the first page…

The secrete musings of the Countess Deene-Fargoe of Deene Hall in the year of our King Charles the 2nd, 1662. Cynthia was stunned but read further. These matters shall be seen by no other than I, Synthia, daughter of John Fargoe, wife of Earl Francis, son of Mortimer Deene. Most titled families had some knowledge of their heritage and the present Earl had also done a little research. These two pages did not reveal anything new apart from the different spelling of that day. But these were secrets and she, Cynthia, might be the only person privy to them other than the author.

The Countess put the book down; she wanted to savor the moment. She gazed out of a dirty window across the lawns at the beautiful cherry blossom tree. The Countess, on sunny days, would often take a rug and sit under its long branches, reading a book. The tree also sprouted wonderful blossoms and a large number of cherries each year, without fail. Cynthia picked up the book again and paged on to the first day;

June the third, 1662… The gardens and lawns need much work and it is left to me to tend to this burdensome task… Cynthia put the book down again as she was feeling light-headed, she felt weak and dizzy. The room began to spin. She felt out of control, lost. She felt as though she was falling, falling…

SUMMER OF 1662

Countess Synthia Deene Fargoe stormed out of the kitchen. In her wake, she left a number of the staff trembling. They had seen her foul moods before and there would usually be a victim. Who would it be this time? The cook looked around at the scullery maids, maidservants, and his Lordship’s valet. Even the butler was in the kitchen. It was he, who spoke, ‘Well Tilly the chambermaid got it last time; any guess’s who it will be now?’ Heads bowed and feet shuffled. No one wanted to talk. ‘Humph, well it will be left to me as usual to take care of the dirty work for her Ladyship.’ Hubert had been with the family ever since the Talbots were evicted and he did not find any pleasure in these unpleasant tasks.

The Countess strode into the drawing room. Her frock of blue sequined lace billowing out behind her. She sat down on the corner of a long lounger, her back ramrod straight. She was a beautiful woman with eyes like coal. Her hair, wound up to a bird’s nest, was fiery black. She had a rather large nose. Her general frame was large too. Synthia had married wealth. She came from a merchant family who had acquired their wealth through unprincipled practices and in an illegal fashion.

It was purely money that drove the Fargoes into circles that they otherwise would have been prohibited from. Now that she was Lady of the Manor, she threw her weight around and enjoyed the servants’ fear of her. She felt it right that one servant should be let go now and again, even if the reason did not warrant it, just to keep the rest on their toes. The Countess looked out of the open bay windows onto the pristine and manicured lawns. Summer was in full swing and the flowers and trees were in blossom.

The head gardener, Manston had done well. He had recently planted a cherry tree on the far side of the lawn and it seemed to be growing well. There was a swishing noise and Synthia stood up and walked to the windows. The netting reached halfway up the large panes and she had to stand on her toes to look out clearly. Manston was scything the grass, a difficult task. First, he had used a large scythe to take the heads off the grasses and was now trimming the lawns with a smaller shear-like scythe. Synthia watched him intently as she had many times before. He was a handsome man, well built from the hours of hard labour, and was a golden brown colour from being exposed to so much sunshine. He had dark hair with a fringe that covered his eyes and fell away at the back of his shoulders; he wore it in a fashionable ponytail. He was sweating. Synthia’s eyes dilated and she licked her lips as lustful thoughts flitted through her imagination. There was a gentle knock on the door, ‘Will you be taking an aperitif before dinner and shall the table be laid for master as well?’

‘Thank you, Hubert, I will and no do not place for the Earl. I have no idea when he will be back.’ Hubert backed out of the doorway pulling it closed, not wishing for any more engagement than necessary. ‘Of course, he will be late, if he returns at all this night,’ Synthia said to herself in disgust. She walked to a large mirror and examined herself. I’m quite attractive, most of the men at the balls loved to take my arm for the dances, she thought. The Countess’s face darkened and colour rose on her neck. Why does he have to play with those whores? Tears began to well up in her eyes. She dabbed at them with a lace handkerchief and composed herself again. Her eyes narrowed and she bore a determined countenance.

After dinner Synthia went to her bed chamber, lying awake on the enormous duck down four poster. She had changed into night attire but could not sleep. She lay in her bed, in her room. She and the Earl had not slept together in the same room for over two years now. She listened to the night noises of insects, owls, and a night lark which frequently visited Deene Hall. The house was quiet otherwise. The servants had retired and there was a peace in the hall.

The Countess luxuriated in the melancholic atmosphere which was suddenly broken by heavy footsteps and a grunt. She heard some murmuring and the large ancient chair in the hall squeak. Someone was on it! Carefully, Synthia wrapped her gown around her and slid her feet into slippers. She made her way along the landing and then peered over the rail. It was Francis, the Earl, Synthia’s husband. He was drunk and struggling to take off his boots. Synthia descended the staircase and was not noticed until she had reached the bottom. ‘My dear, you did not have to wait up for me.’ Before she could speak the Earl went on,’ Where are the servants and where is the fire and my dinner? Synthia fumed, 'As I did not know when or if you would be returning this night, I had not prepared you a supper. The servants have retired. It is late, very late!' Synthia knelt to help him off with his muddy footwear. ‘I expect there to be someone waiting and ready for me at all times!’ the Earl bellowed

‘I was waiting,’ Synthia replied forcefully.

‘Huh, and what have you prepared to eat then?’

‘Well, my love. If you would care to come into the kitchen I will see what Cook has prepared. Mind you, you’ll have to eat it cold,’ she said sarcastically.

FERTILIZER

Synthia marched into the kitchen. She felt a hot fury about to explode inside of her. Behind her trundled the contemptuous man she married. He was a plain-looking man but wealthy and that plus her social standing was all important to the Countess. Since she found out he was visiting prostitutes the idea of sleeping with him was repugnant. The Countess did not see the reflected image of her proud behaviour in the Earle. She was angry at having been humiliated. The staff knew of the Earle’s philandering and so did the neighbouring villages. She felt the gall of fury rising in her. At the large table in the center of the kitchen, she saw that Cook had laid out crockery and cutlery including carving knives for the next day’s work. Her hand grasped one of the knives.

‘What did you have in mind? I don’t see anything appealing to eat from here,’ said Francis as he steadied himself by holding on to a chair.

The Countess spun around and launched herself at the Earle. The knife slid easily into his neck. She was surprised at the lack of resistance. She plunged again and again. The Earle let out a gargled and muted scream, for now, the blood was easing out of his mouth. She had severed the carotid artery with her first blow. Francis slumped backwards, still holding the chair which now fell over and on top of him. There was a pleading look on his face as if asking, why? Blood had splattered on the floor, the stone walls, and on the hearth and stove which now sizzled slightly from the heat which had cooled down. She looked back down at Francis who looked back at her with unseeing eyes. Synthia dropped the knife and put her hand to her mouth which added to the blood already on her clothes and hands. She felt disgusted by the pathetic but dead figure on the floor. She felt no remorse but pleasure at the power she had wielded.

The Countess stood up and suddenly realized she was being watched. A face…at the window. Now it was gone! She ran to look but there was nobody there.

‘Can I help you Maam?’ Synthia spun around. It was Manston, the gardener.

‘Wha…what are you doing here?’

Manston entered the kitchen and looked down at his late employer. ‘Perhaps I should be asking you that question.’

‘Don’t be so impertinent.’

‘Well now, I wonder if the Sheriff would like to hear of what I saw.’ Manston began to smile and revealed a row of crooked teeth amidst some absent ones. He continued, ‘I could help you with your problem, help you clean up and well, be rid of…his Grace.’ There was a twinkle in his eyes and an air of confidence in his manner.

Synthia composed herself. ‘That would be helpful. By the way, what did you see?’

‘Miss Synthia, he became brave and personal, 'I saw you done ‘im in.’

‘I see, well let us get on with it then.’ The kitchen was set well away from the servant’s quarters so any reasonable noise was well masked. Manston suggested they roll the Earle into an old rug which he fetched from the garden house. After he was roughly trussed up in the rug Manston lifted the body onto his shoulders and walked outside. Although the Earle was a large man, Manston dealt with his load easily. ‘I’ve recently been caring for the new cherry tree over there Maam.’ He pointed to the growing tree. ‘Shall we lay him to rest next to it?’

‘Very well.’ The Countess was starting to feel out of control of the situation but felt helpless to do anything else. Manston had just that day watered the area around the tree and raked it through so the earth was soft.

‘We have to do a lot of digging Synthia.’

‘And what do you expect me to do, and address me correctly.’

‘I expect you to take a shovel and help with the dig and I shall call you as I please… Synthia, remember the Sheriff.'

The Countess started to shovel the earth further from the hole where Manston was well on his way to making a substantial grave. She had never done physical work and the effort was soon taking its toll. She wondered if she had made the right decision in succumbing to Manston’s blackmail and now realized there would probably be further demands. Should she take her chances with the Sheriff and fall on his mercy? She was after all the landed gentry. She could say the Earle attacked her and she defended herself but so many stab wounds and here was Manston and his word against hers. Why would he lie or make up a story anyway? No, she would have to play along.

Manston walked around the tree patting the earth down and making sure there were no traces of their evening’s work. The day was beginning to dawn and neither of them could tell how long they had been outside getting rid of the Earle.

Synthia looked pathetic in her disheveled nightgown. Her hair had tumbled down and she was streaked with dirt. Manston was soaked with sweat and looked directly at the Countess. ‘Well then my dear. We had better be going to our abodes and cleaning up…we shall pretend there is nothing unusual ‘appened.’

The Countess gasped at Manston’s familiarity. ‘I shall wait till tomorrow before reporting him missing to the sheriff. What if he was seen by one of the servants?’ She suddenly realized she was relying more and more on Manston for advice and support.

‘If that were so surely they would have come to his service ‘afore he retired to bed.’

‘Yes, I never thought of that.’

‘I shall call by in time.’ Manston put his hat back on, turned, and strode away to the garden house which he shared with no one. The other gardeners that he managed all had families in the nearby village of Heathfield. Synthia stared after him wondering what he meant by calling and what was to become of her.

MISSING

After noon the next day, the Countess sent one of the servants to the village to beckon the Sheriff to Deene Hall. When he arrived he was courteous and gracious and empathised with the Countess’s dilemma.

‘Has he stayed away for long periods before Countess?’ ‘Yes, but he has sent word to me about his delays.’

‘And what was his business in London this time?’

‘Well, uh, I am not always privy to his dealings Sheriff. Synthia rose from her chair for she could not look into the Sheriff’s eyes. She asked the question that had been consuming her since the cherry tree incident; ‘Did anybody notice the Earle in the village or on the estate anywhere?’

‘Why do you ask that Maam?’ The Sheriff raised his eyebrows which made his little round face look comical.

‘I, ah, I thought it would be wise to confirm whether he had returned Sherrif, then we can eliminate the question of him still being in London or on the road between here and the city.’ She looked keenly at this little man with tears beginning to well up in her eyes.

‘That’s marvellous! ‘The sheriff exploded with genuine admiration. ‘You are a very clever woman to think of that.’ Even though his tone was a little condescending the Countess was not going to scold him, it's better he keeps his investigation far from the Hall, she thought. ‘I shall be heading back to the village and begin my questioning. I shall also send a message to the King’s Court and ask the Royal Guard to look into the matter. Please be brave Your Grace we will find out what has become of your husband and if there is any skulduggery involved, the guilty will be severely punished.’

But nothing was discovered. Weeks passed by and the matter became less important to the King and to the Sheriff who was now a little embarrassed to report with no news. It was generally assumed that the Earle was accosted and killed in London somewhere. His body probably already floated down the Thames.

PAYBACK

Manston though had other ideas. He felt it wise to wait a month until he was sure that the cherry tree secret was safe and then he made his move. It was dark and late and he closed the garden house door behind him. He had spent some time at the end of the day mixing arsenious oxide, caustic lime, and honey. It was the honey that attracted the rats. The cities were overrun with the creatures but it wasn’t too bad in the countryside, still, Manston was a fastidious gardener and was appalled when he found vegetables and even flowers gnawed away by these unfussy and uninvited guests. He used an empty whiskey bottle for the poison and stuck the cork back into the bottle. It would be nicely diluted for the day after tomorrow when he would pour the deadly concoction into the various rat holes around the house and garden.

Manston entered by the kitchen door which was concealed in an alcove overgrown with an ivy creeper. He closed the door, bolting it this time. Earlier in the day when no one was watching he had packed the latch hinge with mud which had now hardened into clay and when the page boy, whose job it was to secure all the doors pulled it too, it would have shut without the latch falling all the way but enough to satisfy the boy. Now all Manston had to do was to put pressure on the door which budged after a few attempts. He smiled to himself and felt pleased with his effort.

He walked quickly to the great hall and bounded up the staircase and onto the wide landing. Manston had been in the house before but only in the areas permitted to servants, certainly not up to the private chambers. He was astounded at how many doors there were and was just about to open the first door when he heard a humming. It was a sweet melody and was coming from a door a little way down the landing. He pushed it ajar and walked into an antechamber with a heavy curtain hanging across it. Manston pushed it aside and entered a large and sumptuous room. The main feature was a huge four-poster bed covered in a white spread stuffed with eider down which would have cost him five years wages. The windows were framed with exquisite floor length, heavy royal blue satin curtains. There was a rug in front of the vanity table which looked foreign. He had heard of these things coming from places unknown to him. At the vanity table was the Countess, brushing her long thick hair. She was wearing a cream nightdress which set off her beautiful, olive-coloured skin. There was a perfume in the air and Manston sucked it in hungrily. Synthia watched him in the mirror and was amused at his ignorance. Without turning she demanded, ‘What do you think you are doing here and how did you get in this time?’

‘I told you I would be seeing you, so here I am.’

The Countess suddenly felt alarmed. When Manston had said he was returning she was concerned but then felt sure it was his way of being pleasant and reassuring in word only...but not in deed.

Manston moved toward Synthia who had put her brush down. He reached out and touched her soft hair. ‘That’s lovely,’ his eyes widened and the nostrils flared. Manston was aroused. Synthia pulled back realizing she was in danger.

‘Did you think I would not come for my payment?’

‘What do you want?’ Synthia was backing toward the bed. She was frightened. This seemed to spur Manston on;

‘I want you of course,’ and he lunged at her, pushing her off balance; she fell backward onto the bed. Manston was quickly on top of her. His hand covered her mouth. ‘Synthia, please, relax but don’t call out. Remember your life is in my hands.’ The Countess realized it was useless in trying to fight him, both physically and emotionally. He truly had her cornered.

Later that night the Countess sat on her chez long at the window. She was weeping, her arms were bruised and her hair was disheveled. She wept for the husband who did not love her and was now keeping a cherry tree company. She wept because of a man who had ravished her in the so-called act of love. She felt unclean and helpless. Her eyes narrowed as she looked out over the fields. I have no alternative, she thought. It has to be done.

THE FINAL MIX

Synthia Deene-Fargoe stayed in her chambers all day. She refused any assistance in dressing, bathing, or eating for she did none of these things. The servants were a little confused but put it down to her eccentric behaviour and the fact that she was recently widowed. She told Hubert to retire the servants early that day and at ten o’clock that evening she made her way down to the kitchen. She had thrown on her cape which covered her pantaloons and bodice brace. Cynthia opened the rear door and saw that a candle was burning in the garden house; Manston was in, probably planning another expedition to her chambers. She walked back to the large table and once again reached for the sharp carving knife.

Manston had just finished washing and was putting on a cleanly laundered shirt. He was in a good mood. Tonight, he thought she will love me. He had shone his boots and admired himself in the broken mirror. A little of the cook’s evening stew had dropped on his trousers. The meal pleased him as well as there seemed to be more than usual. Maybe the Countess is softening up. He bent down to wipe away the stain when he saw Synthia looking at him in the reflection. Manston turned around, breaking into a huge grin of ragged teeth.

Manston was about to say something but instead let out a gasp and began to buckle at the knees; blood spread rapidly across his abdomen. He looked in astonishment at the Countess who plunged the knife again into his chest. This was the fatal blow. Manston slumped to the floor; he held up his arm; there was a pleading look on his face and then he collapsed, dead.

The Countess wiped the knife on Manston’s clean, white shirt. She sat down and noticed a bottle of whiskey on the table and wondered if Manston was setting himself up with Dutch courage before visiting her again. She smiled at the knowledge of putting an end to his womanizing just as she had done with the Earle.

The night was running and Synthia knew what she had to do. In Manston’s room, she found a work shirt and breeches. She laughed to herself when she looked in the mirror, how strange it felt to be wearing a man’s clothes. The task of dragging Manston in some old sheets which were stored in the garden house, opening up the still fairly fresh grave under the cherry tree, and laying him on top of the now decomposing Earle was heavy going. She gagged at the smell but stuck steadfastly to her task.

The morning was well advanced when she had finished patting down and raking through the ground. She wiped her brow with a dirty sleeve from the oversized sleeve, looked at the cherry tree, and thought about how she would now enjoy it even more. A rooster began his morning arousal and she hurried back to the garden house with the implements. A missing gardener would not arouse interest from the sheriff. Manston’s family would naturally enquire about his whereabouts. It struck Synthia that she knew nothing about her late gardener. After removing Manston’s clothes she sat down in her undergarments, dirty and tired but pleased with her work. She noticed the whiskey bottle again and realized how hungry and thirsty she was. The Countess found a tumbler and poured herself some of the sweet-smelling liquid. She took a large mouthful and savoured the drink which had an aroma of almonds.

‘Ah well at least Manston had good taste in refreshment,’ she said to herself. Suddenly an excruciating pain emanated from within her. Synthia bent forward, tears running from her face. She was struggling to breathe; her mind raced as she remembered the aroma of almonds. In a flash the realization of what had happened hit her. Manston did have the last say after all. The Countess fell off the chair. Her body felt weak and helpless. Her eyes began to bulge and her breathing became very shallow. A little later the Countess was still; her eyes though were staring out of the unclosed door at the cherry tree on the other side of the lawn.

Maam,maam, please wake up! Three of the gardeners were knocking on the window. ‘We have to go home.’ Cynthia Deen-Fargo lifted her head from the table and rubbed her eyes, she had an awful headache. The book in front of her on the table was opened on the page dated the fifteenth of July 1662…

Manston has dealt my person a serious insult. I shall similarly deal with him. I have no alternative, it has to be done!

Cynthia made for the locked door sniffing curiously at the air. It reeked of almonds!

From...Travelling...Future

THE REAL HISTORY OF ISRAEL

Most people today would assume that the boundaries of nations and the people of those nations are historically correct. That is the misconception the world has been fed for at least 4,000 years! Do you assume that because someone was in a place first, it should rightfully be theirs?

I am sure many people know that nations’ boundaries have been shifted from their original places through political means and wars. Spoils to the victors, etc. Take a look at the various regions around the world that the descendants of the British peoples or more accurately the tribe of Ephraim have migrated to.

When the patriarch Joseph asked his father Jacob also known as Israel to bless his two sons, Jacob crossed his right hand over to Ephraim who was the younger, and said, He shall be greater than the firstborn. Manasseh would also be a great nation. Ephraim though, would be a multitude of nations and would control the globe’s sea gates, own half of the world, and be a powerful military nation. Before the dispersion of the ten tribes of Israel that were scattered around the world, God had warned the Israelites many times about their behavior. Already he had brought about a great flood that resulted in a restarting of the world as we now know it.

After God had declared the nation of Israel through the patriarch Jacob, he once again punished them through captivity in Egypt and then again the northern Kingdom of Judah in Babylon. Most of the Israelites were again taken into captivity into the nation of Assyria which does not exist any more. The Assyrians were a great and powerful nation from the Caucasus region conquering all about her but like all nations who reject the true God, they bring self-destruction upon themselves. The Romans then occupied the Holy Land and in time Israel changed hands many times. ‘REMEMBER GOD’S WORD IS TRUE’

The Israelites integrated into the Assyrian society and many lost their faith as they took on the heathen worship of their contemporary community. Eventually, even the great Assyrians fell and the dispersion of the Israelites continued.

History of the 12 Tribes

Remember, God’s word is true through all time and HE promised he would bring his people home in two stages. His people being the Jews (who were the Tribe of Judah and Benjamin who had remained in Judah) and of course the tribe of Israel.

For around a thousand years Judah came under the authority of Arabs, Muslims, Romans, and Turks until the British under General Allenby defeated the Turks in Israel (Palestine) during World War One. This then began the first stage of God’s plan to bring his people home.

Britons and Celts

After the Assyrian empire was vanquished and eventually swallowed up, the nation of Israel was once again a wandering and disparate people although generations of time had passed. Israel had been fully integrated into the Assyrian culture although some remained true to their faith of Judaism. Nevertheless, most were conducting their faith in a way that displeased God, hence the dispersion of Assyria.

The Khan marauders in later years, particularly under Genghis would have made a major impact in further dispersing the now disenfranchised Assyrians as many fled west settling in the nations we now see in Eastern Europe, in places like Russia and then onward as far as Gaul (France) and Iberia (Spain). Many settled in the Saxon and Hun territories (Germany and Hungary) In fact Germany became home to a vast number of former Assyrians and will play a major role in times ahead.

Some then turned north to the little-settled island of what is now known as Ireland. Here, truly they made a home, and the Irish to this day have a sense of God in their spirit despite behaving contrary to the laws of the one true God. One can read into the fascinating history of these intriguing people who still continue to migrate. The Ireland(s) population is roughly 6 million but many times that number live abroad, so much has been their influence. Many USA presidents can trace their roots back to the Emerald Isle. The Catholic Church has also made a big impact on Ireland.

The prophet Jeremiah (the same Jeremiah so infused by the Spirit of God in the Holy Bible) traveled to this Island bringing with him a  girl, Tea Tephi(in a party of 5 including Baruch the prophet & also other kin to Tea Tehi, daughter of the last king of Judah) The Babylonians had slaughtered the men folk of the royal dynasty)

This act by Jeremiah was in obedience to God‘s instruction. He then returned to Judah leaving the girl who was raised as a queen. Her offspring moved north to the rugged land of Scotia (Scotland) and the dynasty of royalty began which is documented at the Palace of Scone in Perthshire. From here we can trace the royal families of Briton, later Great Britain, and the sordid ungodly dealings they performed all in the name of God to this day. Their influence has reached out their greedy tentacles into Europe as well.

MAN MEANT IT FOR EVIL BUT GOD MEANT IT FOR GOOD

When God sets out his purpose, he is not slow in preparing the ground. It is man who takes the gift and uses it for his purposes. So we can see that this dynasty was God planned even though the people rejected God’s direction.

Genesis 50 says ‘Man meant it for evil but God meant it for good.’…meaning that in God’s timing, he will bring about his purposes…that time is now upon us!

The history of the Catholic church including dictates to other pretentious royal families in Europe, the Holy Land Crusades, and the general bloody policies of terrorism (read into the awful persecution of those who would not follow Rome) have nothing to do with the One True God and Christianity even though countless billions in history including many of today’s generation have been led astray… whilst using the name of Jesus Christ! This is blaspheme!

Even whilst British Kings and Queens were opposing the Catholic Church, their real agenda had nothing to do with the truth. To this day we see very little change. The blessed of the British Isles...through Ephraim (and northern Europe where many of the Tribe of Rueben-the oldest of Jacob’s sons- & other sons through the migration of the House of Israel had settled) were behaving in a most ungodly manner but God would prevail.

Yet amongst these people were true believers. Groups were often living and meeting in secret at the risk of Catholic condemnation that generally ended in a burning at the stake. Out of the British Isles came a fervent society. Generations followed, some more fervent than others culminating in the Puritans who practised some of what God was looking for in HIS PEOPLE. The English Civil War was pretty much wrapped around the differences in lifestyle of that generation culminating in the toppling of an unwavering King.

The next stage of God’s journey for the House of Israel was the migration of Purists to the New Land in the West. A large number of Puritans set up Home in the New World we now know as USA. The history, particularly in the early days of America is richly garnished with the doctrine of God in all of societies’ cultural and political lifestyles. Laws were based on the Ten Commandments. Adherence to God and his ways was an everyday occurrence. Sadly that is now ebbing away with the modern anti-Christian policies and disrespect for God.

Blessing upon Blessing

The torchbearers of God’s word had moved to the New World. God began raising up people like George Washington and other political leaders. Christians spread God’s word throughout the nation and the USA became powerful; economically and militarily. It also caused bitterness, resentment, and envy amongst other people particularly those who opposed the Christian Gospel.

Meanwhile, England also became the most powerful nation in the world, spreading its influence across the globe. New ideas, including steam power, electricity, medicine, and even television came out of this tiny nation of tea drinkers. GOD PLACED THE GIFT IN THEM.

The incredible history of Britain’s wars is a catalog of unlikely victories from the defeat of the Spanish Armada and Waterloo to Dunkirk and D-Day. History shows that it has been God’s intervention that has won battles and victories in war and not the arrogant declaration of generals.

Britain and America might have been blessed with special and gifted people but it was God who placed that gift in them and it was God who gave them wealth and it was God who protected them. They were undeserving of it but God meant to keep his word.

The British and American Influence

We look around us today and see the influence that the British and American cultures have had. The pop culture of music, food, dress, and other luxuries come readily to mind. True, the origins of some of these things were godly but along the way they have been corrupted. The righteous influences have been generally discarded by generations of people who have rejected the one true God.

Yet it was God who intended that these influenced blessings pervade all cultures and societies. It is no wonder then that the house of Israel through Ephraim and Manasseh would control most of the world. Although Britain, in particular through ignorant politicians and its people, have given much of these inheritances away believing it to be the right thing to do.

God will restore nations, correct culture and morals as He intended it to be. The blessed of Britain and USA (as well as the dominions where the spirit of Ephraim traveled, including Australia, New Zealand, Canada, Africa, and Asia) will have to learn a difficult lesson as God punishes them before they truly repent. Then, and only then will they be restored and the House of Israel will once again rise up and be victorious.

Politicians will become obsolete and modern politics and democracy will be tossed out with the garbage as God brings about a new THEOCRATIC reign in the… NEW KINGDOM!

To our Creator

PSALM FOR OUR SAVIOUR

Lord I am weak but you are strong.

My body thirsts for the flesh but my heart yearns for you.

The god of this world fights me: but I am strong in you.

I can resist and he will flee.

Be my guiding light and my strength.

Be the power of courage within me.

I look around me and see only evil.

People devour people.

The saints tremble; but look to you.

The days are now numbered, the hour draws near.

Man continues in his folly and sees not the signs.

Your word is a beacon and will be gloried through the universe.

Speed the day when all men will have to bow or hold hands with the beast in the fiery furnace.

Seasons

OPEN AT LAST

Struggling in agony and finally in ecstasy, the buds free themselves from the retreating cold. Life, itself is rejuvenated-hope for the future now becomes a reality as the new-born bounce into the world. There’s joy as color reflects nature’s desire to survive …the circle of the seasons continue their cycle.

A documentation of the origins of mans' movement across the world & how races cultures & physical differences came into being.

There is a concentration on Africa in this paper...

FALSE DAWN

What is Africa, What are its origins & where do the people come from? I believe this paper will explain this question in a more precise, honest & correct fashion. My authority is God & his plan for mankind or more accurately His plan & man’s disobedience.

DISPERSION

Let us begin with the dispersion of peoples. This all started with the idolatrous & selfish behavior of the people around 1700 years after the Earth’s re - creation. At that time the people were rejecting God’s instruction & began building a tower (Tower of Babel) for idolatrous worship. (Gen 11) God then dispersed the people by confusing their language, introducing new languages.

People began consorting within their own communities. The gene pool never broadened & this point is crucial.

Prior to that, because God's creation was perfect, this was not an issue. Now, though as man's unrepentant sin became more rampant...INBREEDING became the result.

So as seperation of the different pools began to happen bodily features & pigmentation began to change over time. Characteristics & behavior began to change & take on patterns. The sin of peoples was greater or less depending on their disobedience of God’s laws. Eventually most turned away from the knowledge of God altogether.

Africa became a home to some of these rebels & these people propergated in sin & Godlessness.

The different peoples around the world suffered mutations of different kinds & compensatory features through in breeding as well. Remember God made man perfect. Man’s imperfections are not God’s doing, but man’s.

It will though, change again, in the NEW KINGDOM.

The history, behavior, outrages & tribal customs are a matter of record with a differing view depending on the author’s morals. Before the 1st Europeans set foot in Africa, the people living on that continent were behaving in a manner totally contrary to God’s will for them. Remember God gave man the choice to go their own way & to suffer the consequences in time…that time is soon.

CHRISTIANITY IN AFRICA

Scripture reveals something quite startling about Gods’ grace with the people of that continent when he used Philip, a second generation apostle to speak with a high ranking Ethiopian & share the gospel & baptize him!

God intended the Ethiopians to set the catalyst for spreading the gospel through Africa. Sadly that did not happen; another example of man’s disobedience. What we have witnessed in that nation is a strange religion incorporating part of the gospel into a sect called Coptic Christians raised up. These people now populate Egypt, Sudan, & Ethiopia primarily (many are persecuted for their faith) I have met Coptics from all 3 of the aforementioned nations & found them to be gentle & kind. But their gospel like so many others is a false one. There has also been a macabre evolving of Christianity into an hedonistic culture involving former Ethiopian emperor Halle Selasie, Rastafarianism & illicit narcotics. Never the less it has to be said that there are some negroid people of African descent who have repented to our Lord & become one of HIS family & I am privileged to know some of them.

Also it needs to be added that there are people the world over, as one would obviously know, who are full of sin. People from all cultures.

But let's concentrate on Africa & the people who inhabit that continent.

The error that has been made throughout history has been the understanding of 1st come, 1st serve. This is a fallacious rejection of God’s time & decisions. Man might think he is wise, but it is God who gifts man to make wise & Godly decisions. Clearly many of that privileged mankind has failed.

GOD’S BLESSING FOR THE CHOSEN PEOPLE

To understand who those people God has placed before others are, one has to know God’s word. It is from His word we know that the 12 tribes (sons of Jacob, named Israel) were given the rights to be the authority over all the Earth. This promise was 1st given to the senior patriarch, Abraham.

Judah & Benjamin make up what is now the Jewish people (who mistakenly believe that they & they alone are the chosen people) In fact they are part of the whole tribe of Israel & Judah…the chosen people. During much of ancient Israel’s history, that land where Israel, Jordan & Lebanon now exist was the land given to the descendants of the Patriarchs by God, making up the 12 tribes of Israel.

Jacob’s son, Joseph had 2 sons; Manasseh & Ephraim. Ephraim was the younger but received the greater blessing. …He (Manasseh) also shall become a people, & he also shall be great; but truly his younger brother shall be greater than he, & his descendants shall become a multitude of nations…(Gen 49:19) And so Ephraim’s descendants became Britain & the commonwealth & Manasseh’s descendants became the USA. (Read Britain & the USA in prophecy…lcg.org)

God has given these people great blessings which has been very evident & in return sought their respect obedience & worship from them. This sadly has decreased over time & we now see an immoral & sinful people. Never the less, in that time until now many people of these nations have sought to do good & have prospered. Much has been achieved in their advancement throughout the world, notwithstanding the bitter hatred from those opposed to them. Sadly, because of rapidly diminishing fear, respect & love of God those blessings & protection are now being withdrawn leaving only the prospect of God’s wrath!

EARLY PIONEERS

Although God’s hand was directing the British to make their Gateway into Southern Africa, it was the Dutch who made the 1st footprint in that region. It was the British, though that made a larger impact as they began settling the area all at the behest of God.

God had said in his word that the descendants of Abraham (Issac,Jacob-who became Israel) would control the sea gates of the world. Southern Africa being one of the most important. Ultimately though, it was a mixture of the Dutch, Germans, French (Huguenots who had fled Europe because of Catholic persecution) & various British who made up the group & came to be known as the Voortrekkers being the forerunners of the Afrikaaner nation.

VOORTREKKERS

The Voortrekkers established themselves in the hinterland of South Africa. There might have been a few tribal people there but they had not established anything. Most importantly though, was the fact that God had set the Afrikaaner nation up. The British through the Ephraim descendants had failed in the governance of God’s Laws & desires for HIS people.. The mantle had been handed over to the Afrikaaners. In fact the Afrikaaners understood quite a bit of that process. The British were to be the conduits that the blessings of God would be worked through. They failed & the Afrikaaners became the path through default but never the less a blessed people.

Sadly greed, misunderstanding, jealousy were just some of the major sins perpetuated by the British which in turn propagated the onset of the Boer(s) War(s).

OBEDIENCE TO GOD

It must be understood that although God does occasionally intervene in man’s affairs, it is by & large man who determines their journey. God will give us wisdom when we ask, He will forgive & show grace & mercy when we truly repent & he will protect when we have faith. He will provide when we believe & reward when we show compassion. But it is man who makes decisions. The key is whether those decisions are in line with the WORD of GOD & Righteousness; then God may intervene as HE chooses.

Hebrew 11 states that our Faith comes 1st before God moves…not the other way around!

POLITICAL AGENDA

Segregation happens every day & has happened throughout history all over the world. Right or wrong; it does happen. The Afrikaaners made a rod for their own backs by force managing the process which would in fact have balanced out fairly much the same had they left the process to follow its natural course.

South Africa became the favourite whipping boy of the world, even by those whose humanitarian records paled South Africa’s in contrast. Many were envious & eyed the lucrative God blessed nation as a conquest for themselves. Then there were those who simply joined a cause out of ignorance.

RAINBOW NATION?

1994 and life became very differentwhen life became very different for everyone in South Africa. A very nepotistic government was formed under the leadership of Mandela (A man who has been clearly misunderstood. There is no doubt he has been used by Satan to influence people who have subsequently fallen for the satanic charm. He has been very clever to manipulate the facts for a gullible world to swallow the lie) He was intelligent enough to understand that to sweeten the lie you must sugar the pill with some truth. Hitler was a master at this.

NO POT OF GOLD

What we have seen since is a steady decline in all the areas of life in that nation. There has been an alarming increase of serious crime particularly targeting white people resulting in SA becoming one of the crime capitals of the world. Non black people have very few opportunities to progress at all in work & domestically. It is the only country in the world where the majority is given extra preference for everything. There is Affirmative Action through the scheme of Black Economic Empowerment (BEE) Corruption continues to escalate particularly from a most corrupt polical system. The standard of living has declined for most bar those on the gravy train. Many black people are in a worse position than ever before with many crying out (in private) for the white man to take control again. They would then have food on the table, a roof over their heads, work, schools, medical aid & not the fear of being raped & murdered.  And so the circus continues.

LOOK AWAY

The world is ignorant, naive or just does not want to know the truth. We now also have a LAME STREAM MEDIA who are journalists in disguise promoting the narritive of the marxist theology (clearly most have no idea what they are really ingaged in) This is also one of the reasons I retired from Journalism & teaching it. The saddest tragedy of all is that there are many in SA who will not believe the facts, are ignorant of the truth, prefer not to know the truth or actually believe the lies.

A once prosperous nation and continent slides inexorably into massive financial default as it gets raped by the fat cats. Again many believe all is well. For some off course there is no alternative but to battle it out somehow…but do they have God in their heart for without HIM there is no hope. It might take those very horrors happening to them to wake them up from their stupor.

HOPE

So where do we go & what do we do. Only God can save man, Africa, the world. He is calling for a repentant heart (truly sorry, apologize for all sin, a complete turnaround) before HE intervenes. The Bible shows us that man will not get better but worsen at an alarming rate.

The heart is deceitful above all things & desperately wicked, who can know it? (Jer: 17)

You create the beginning & the end...

PICKING DAISIES

'Don’t,' he cried. "You’ve had your chance." With deft ease, the huge man, Rocos threw Slater over the side of our ship. Slater would not survive. In these shark infested waters, a body was soon a target.

As the ship steamed on, I looked back at Slater. He was floundering & yelling in the swell. Very soon the strong wind whipped away his words. Rocos laughed. He was a mean man. A large black beard adorned his deeply tanned face. He wore khaki flannels & loafers, ideal for tropical weather in these Louisianan waters.

As an under cover narcotics agent working with the D.E.A. I was impelled to be silent even though I wanted to shout. What could I say? I couldn't save Slater now & I couldn't challenge Rocos. I was a crew member on this rusting coaster, 'the Daisy Picker'.

Slater was a good man, a loyal agent & a family man. Someone would have to tell his wife, Laura & the kids. I had been leaning over the port side watching this tragic event when I turned around & saw Rocos glaring at me. All 2m of him towered above me. I swallowed hard & shuddered. Was I next?

"Don’t you be trying the same now eh Daniels?"

"I don't use the stuff; I’m just a salesman, like you! …but I knew deep down, I had failed Slater & I would have to face Rocos.

Where are you?

Who is the God Jehova?

How do you relate?

WOLVES IN THE CHURCH

TRADITION

What do you want to follow? The truth of God or the traditions of men?

Can there be versions of the truth? Can there be variances of the truth in regard to different systems or denominations? Can we in fact shut out areas of the truth that we don’t like?

But you know, most Christian churches don’t follow the true teachings of God Jehova That might shock you and so it should.

The Bible is very clear about what we are to believe...

It says, For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine, but according to their own desires, but they will heap up on themselves teachers because of itching ears who will turn their ears away from the truth, and be turned aside to fables. (2 Tim: 4:3/4)

This scripture clearly states the current condition of most Christian churches today.

The apostle Paul also warns us about the type of teacher and pastors that prowl within the confines of churches.

But there were also false prophets among the people, even as there will be false teachers among you, who will secretly bring in destructive heresies, even denying the Lord who bought them, and bring on themselves swift destruction.(2 Pet:2:1)

TEST

I freely admit that I was feeble in my progression as a Christian over a number of years. It did not help that I was in churches that taught error, had poor teaching and certainly no encouragement to grow as the Lord would have it, only as they, the church, would have it.

In recent times, though, God has graciously shown me my errors, pointed me in directions that seek out the real truth to know God deeper, to understand his word more fully and to receive the wonderful gift of revelation about the future.

Two things I have learnt and realized the importance of: We are to test the words of man and then reference it to the Word of God. Yet how many of us do this? Most folks in churches just believe what they hear.

Actually it is the same in general society. Folks read the gutter press, watch crummy soap operas and daft reality TV and say, “This is how it is!”

THE WORD

I encourage you therefore to be sure of your conversion. Have you truly repented? I.e. have you acknowledged you are a sinner and looked back at your life to identify those sins one by one, acknowledging the error and rectifying them where possible? Obviously a mean word here, a discouraging one there cannot be undone but an apology should be forthcoming if the event was not too long ago. Perhaps you stole something and want to replace it. Use your discretion and wisdom.

God knows your heart and sincerity.

Truly accept Christ as your Lord and Saviour, understanding that only through Him do you have life. Understand that He loves you from the beginning and knows you personally and wants fellowship with you in the spirit and ultimately side by side in the new Kingdom.

Today if you will hear His voice, do not harden your hearts as in the rebellion (Heb:3:15)

God gave me scripture from Isaiah 43...that was to be my road...

RIVERS IN THE DESERT

A new day our Lord has given

We sing glory to God

He has made a way in the wilderness; into the New kingdom

Flowing free He brings us joy

From rivers in the desert...

Cleansing hearts & minds Let us sing to our Saviour

Let us rejoice in our salvation to come...

To our Saviour Our salvation

The road to Victory

I WANT...IT'S YOUR FAULT

Commentary on social behavior.

Does it affect you in any way when people show utter disrespect for the etiquette of values & manners? Or are you one of those who think things change with contemporary times?

Are we serious when we say we need to accept the way things are & be too afraid to do anything about it? The fact that society is compelled to fall into line with the liberal thinkers & law makers.

Yet we have elected these folk who make these decisions & then complain about it…how absurd!

Are you the type of person who would rather not greet, talk or interact with people because frankly you don’t know how to, have never learnt to & certainly will not admit that you don’t care? Bitterness seems to be an underlying factor in the behaviour of so many.

One can point to some real difficulties. Like problems in the home, work, money, etc. But the real reason is their neglect & refusal of true help they could get. Like most ills, sins & difficulties, bitterness has a root in our hearts of revenge. This might very well be triggered or helped along by some incident or situation that has or is happening. So let’s blame all around us, take no responsibility, hurt someone (like someone who hurt us first) & use this all as an excuse …sound familiar…it should. It’s what’s happening in our society right now! 

The old adage of having much & wanting more is very real in some communities. To counteract that, one can also use the phrase, what one doesn’t know one doesn’t miss. But is that so true today in our world of global communication & knowledge. We are able to peek into the homes of strangers on the other side of the world. 

Because we can see so clearly what others are doing & have, we feel we want the same, particularly as it seems we need only apply the same principles that the apparently successful have done.

Greed is an evil driving force that can be all consuming. Throughout history we have a littering of actual events to prove it. In fact often the real thing is so much more compelling than fiction in the written word or the visual version which is so readily lapped up by society. In fact, most of the wealth, world wide is owned by a small fraction of the population. Visit any country & you will find that behind the façade of co operations & company names, the real owners are just a few people who own the lot between them.

Look at what happened in Russia! Where did the money that was supposedly owned by the state during the communist years go to? The fact is that it never was in the coffers of the people or the state but in the pockets of those few again. That’s why Russia sprouted so many wealthy people so quickly.

In other nations money is kept in tight units-families, etc People are afraid of each other…or are they? Actually they are afraid of losing their thing. They will assist as long as it doesn’t affect them adversely. There is no community anymore in many places. Admittedly some countries have had this forced upon them because of the outrageous & vicious crime that pervades those communities helped along by the liberal & criminally minded policies & politicians of those nations. 

So what now? With all this gloom what do we do? What do we hope for…or more to the point…who do we hope for?

2,000 years ago God sent his Son, Jesus Christ to bring a message of HOPE to the world. He gave us a way out of all this hopelessness. Man is inherently wicked, make no mistake about that. But; for God’s grace we would be deleted!

He(GOD) loves us, that’s why he created us, to have fellowship in the form it was ordained (humanity since Adam knows nothing of this) Never the less God will restore this world to its original form. The day is very near now.

The god of this planet (Satan or the devil) will be vanquished. The God of this universe will forgive, restore & complete his work.

Forgiveness though, is conditional; we must truly repent which means to truly acknowledge our sins & guilt…& want to change…& then actually change with the help of our Lord God who we must submit & give our hearts to and most importantly follow the edicts (commandments God has set out for us)…there is no alternative!

Do this & a true & wonderful everlasting future can open up to you in the soon New Kingdom to come.

Row...Row...Row

WRECKED

 The wind sucked in then blew out its venom, thrashing everything in its path. Unbroken waves grew to a towering height before finally breaking and cascading down their own body in to the black water that welcomed death.

In this turmoil a ship’s wooden rudder rose up in contrast from the water followed by the keel. It stood there as though waiting for its final orders before the whole vessel slowly slid down into the black water, enveloping its victim without mercy. A clipper ship’s tea lost to the murky depths.

Four balls appeared then were gone! Reappearing again, this time clearly, in a boat, exhausted, the balls began to row, out of unison at first but then gradually more in order. They made little progress as their wooden boat climbed up a steep swell and just as it appeared they would fall backwards and capsize; they reached the summit to go plummeting down the crest, racing the spilling of the break only to be heaved up again on to the back of the next swell.

The sky crowded down wanting to touch this pitiful scene. Darker clouds scudded across the foreboding canvass to a backdrop of steel grey and the rain kept on falling, scoring large holes in the wild water. The wind sang its own murderous melody, beckoning them like the ancient sirens, ‘Give it up, give up!’ it screamed.

The balls continued heaving, making gradual progress… but to where? For a moment, only a moment, a ray of sunshine broke through the shutters of darkness and irradiated something. Was that land? Real earth and rock? The balls rowed with more intensity, more vigour and more hope, a real hope. Salvation!

The ball at the stern of the small craft seemed to be shouting, giving encouragement or was it a curse? Were their efforts futile, destined to be doomed? Still the balls pulled on the oars, toothpicks into a pond of chaos.

One of the balls looked back at the wreckage of the clipper and saw three fins cruising the choppy surface, fins that disappeared only to re-emerge with what looked like an arm or leg or…was that another ball?The other balls looked at the carnage in horror and dismay. Fear became anger. Anger became determination and determination worked the oars.

The glimmer of hope that was the fleeting glimpse of land now became a reality as before them in the distance, a definite mass rose up. It gave the impression of a desolate place, somewhere no one lived, but somewhere the balls could find safety even in its barrenness.

The balls rowed frantically, racing the weather, tide & death. As they neared the barren mass the waves became more violent. Water shipped in to the small craft. The ball at the stern shouted for more effort as he began bailing with a hat. The waves were winning. The boat ploughed on into the unrelenting foe for now the ocean had become a deadly enemy. Should they capsize, all would most certainly perish. A new terror became the balls’ focus. A terror they were familiar with, a terror all seafarers have had sometime in their lives. The balls rowed furiously, the waves sneered and snarled and leapt into the slowly sinking boat.

The cries of anguish from the balls were pathetic as they saw life being snatched away; but the barren mass edged closer. Hearts were in mouths and still the balls pulled on the oars. As they drew closer to the barren mass three fins closed in on the boat. White rows of death smudged with crimson were bared and the fins bore in.

The boat struck the barren mass with a splintering cry and began to break up. The surf dragged the timber back into the waiting fangs of the fins that tore at the boat and found a ball. The ball screamed as he was pulled into the frenzy. An arm waved farewell. The ball was gone. The other balls scrambled on to the barren mass. They clawed themselves up the slippery slope, finally, falling, exhausted.

Although cut and bruised they were relieved at their escape. The mist lay thick & the silence penetrated the aftermath.

...A deep groan emitted from within the mass which grew louder. In the swirling haze, on the far side, two huge eyes studied them…

The barren mass began to submerge...

Song of lost love

DIAMONDS IN HER EYES

How could she be so blind...the girl with diamonds in her eyes- How could she fail to see...this man was genuine-

Chorus

What a fool he onced loved you-

Now he’s flown gone forever-

How could you be so blind...those hazy days of summer-

When hopes were soaring high- Love was around the corner-

but your heart was far too shy

Chorus

Your sweet smile shone so bright- Folks were out to win the prize-

of you the diamond-

of you The light

Bridge

And when you found what love was for... far too late-

For you-

Young beautiful fool

Now your man with a broken heart-

has taken flight to another shore

Chorus

So too this man I onced loved with my heart-

my soul-

my eyes

How did he fail to see My love might have been his prize

The Courage of Heroes

FRACTURED TOGETHER

NEW GROWTH

The fire raged on, eating into everything in its path. Sparks flew into the air, flames reached up high before curling back hungrily licking at its victim. The glow was pure orange, the heat was sheer agony. The screams were blatant murder. More screams as the roof started caving in, then nothing. Nothing but the raging roar of a devil intent on devouring.

That was a year ago. The dust had settled, the investigations had begun. Arson was suspected but with very few clues and no leads. The police were at a dead end.

This was the new South Africa where democracy joined hands with destruction, violence and crime, where often the quick backhander got results, where nothing got nothing.

Mike and Sonny were living on the farm that burnt down. Mooiplaas had been resurrected again, stronger and sturdier. Mike had decided against using thatch this time. The roof had become an inferno during the fire and the insurance investigators had said there would possibly have been more survivors had the roof covering been of a different material. Mike was John Ferreira’s son. Ferreira was the owner of Mooiplaas and Sonny was the foreman, Sipho Oktober’s son, the former foreman. Sipho and his wife, Sonny’s mother had also perished in the fire. Mike was white and Sonny was mulato. They were the new South Africa.

‘It will be time to move the herd into the northern pasture,’ said Mike with out looking up as he read the latest edition of the You magazine.

‘Ya and we will have to leave that other paddock empty or maybe burn the grass.’

Sonny was well versed in the process of stock husbandry, rotation, anti erosion methods and water conservation, liquid gold in Africa.

Mooiplaas was a twenty thousand hectare ranch farming mostly beef cattle. In fact at the last count there were forty thousand head so it was a lucrative and wealthy business and others knew it too. There were also some sheep and poultry with some acreage set aside for crops: maize or mielies.

‘Another letter from the Ministry of Re-Development,’ Mike said, this time looking up from the magazine. ‘Now they want to come round and have a look at Mooiplaas.’

‘Ach, can’t they just leave us alone, can’t they see we are managing fine.’

Sonny was just as fed up with those officials who believed the boys were too young to run the spread. After the tragic events of twelve months ago when the boys were both seventeen, the ministry had sought to take over the farm until the boys were old enough to decide their future for themselves. But Mike and Sonny both knew that the government had more sinister motives and that the officials preferred the farm be handed over to a revolutionary co operative. This was the agenda of the current government. Mike and Sonny were the only survivors from that dark night.

Mike inherited Mooiplaas as he was an only child. John Ferreira had made out the will some time back and not even Ferreira’s wife knew about the clause indicating Sipho to be taken on as a junior partner in the management of Mooiplaas. Sipho had died and so his estate passed on to Sonny.Now both boys were eighteen and running the farm came naturally to them.

Mooiplaas was in the valley beneath the Maluti Mountains near the border with the tiny kingdom of Lesotho, about ten km. from the small and thriving farming town of Ladybrand in the province of Free State, the heartland and bread basket of South Africa. The undulating landscape of lush pastureland was interrupted by small and larger kopies or hills. Yes this was a beautiful land thought Mike and the government will not take it.

BREAKFAST

Mike gunned the Toyota bakkie (pick up) on the dirt road from the farm house and joined the minor national road into town. He liked Ladybrand with its broad streets and leafy suburbs. Many of the homes had remained in families for generations. After parking and doing his round in the supermarket, he paid the cashier and packed the sacks of groceries into the bakkie. It was another fresh and warm day, so common in these parts. The breeze cooled his skin and all of this put Mike in a good mood.

Mike strode confidently, nodding at familiar faces and blushing when some school girls, a little younger greeted him with a giggle. He was a ruggedly handsome young man with sandy hair and broad shoulders, built up from the hard work at the farm. He made for the Wimpy restaurant which was in the more salubrious part of town where some of the high fashion clothing stores were located. He enjoyed wearing his khaki and veltskoene or bush shoes and was not put off by the fashion conscious. He was not so sure it was reciprocated though. He was going to have a late breakfast with someone very special and she was already waiting.

The restaurant had an outdoor section and when Sonja saw Mike she stood up. She wore a simple trouser suit of corn, ripe yellow. Her hair was loose and was the colour of molasas.The smile on her face filled the restaurant with warmth. She was a pretty girl and the same age as Mike. Her family ran a successful tailoring and outfitting store in town and were an accepted part of the community, as were Mike’s family. But Mike and Sonja, as a couple, were frowned upon, more so from Sonja’s people.

Sonja was an Indian South African, her heritage going back to the latter part of the nineteenth century when the British, who were running South Africa, offered work and a better life by bringing over thousands of Indians from the Asian sub continent to work the sugar plantations.

‘How are you my Bloemetjie?’ (Little flower)

‘Wonderful Mike, you look great.’

‘And you always do, have you ordered?’

‘No, I wanted to wait for you.’

Here were two youngsters very much in love, one whose family were traditional and reserved, the other had advanced his years into adulthood rapidly through tragedy and necessity and with it came a maturity that belied his age. They had syrupy waffles washed down with strong coffee. There were a few second glances from passing folk, some out of empathy for Mike’s tragedy, others out of curiosity. Ladybrand was not that used to mixed relationships yet.

Mike and Sonja left the restaurant holding hands. They strolled past the chain stores and down toward the town centre.

‘I have to call by the Farmers Co op for supplies. Will I see you tomorrow?’ Mike looked with anxiety into Sonja’s eyes.

‘Off course…why don’t we have a picnic braai (BBQ) at Little Rock?’

This was a favourite place of theirs. It had changed ownership recently which saw some cosmetic improvements. A little while back Mike and Sonja had met there for the first time on a church camp and their love had blossomed ever since. Mike was still concerned about Sonja’s family and their rejection, not so much of him, but the fact that Sonja was not following their traditional path. He had read recently of eastern cultures hiding or spiriting daughters away and forcing them into planned marriages.

‘It’s my day off so I am free to be with you all day my love,’ Sonja reassured him.

‘What about your parents?’

‘Mum will be fine about it, I’m afraid I’ll have to tell Dad another story.’

‘Ok, I’ll, uh, see if Sonny can handle things, I’m sure he can. Lets meet at the Wimpy for eight and then we can pick up the food and head off for the Rock.’

DOMESTIC DECISIONS

Dilip Ramjukh stormed out furiously from the office at the back of the shop. He became all peace and delight as he presented himself to a customer. Mrs Rumjukh hurried Sonja into the house which lay adjacent to the store.

‘How did he find out Ma? I was only with Mike for a couple of hours.’ Sonja’s face was wet from weeping.

The tongue lashing from her father was particularly harsh even for him.

‘You know how it is, he is well known in town and well you know…people gossip and so on.’

Dilip Rumjukh was a shrewd businessman and was aware of how some people felt about Mike and Sonja plus he wanted to marry Sonja off to her second cousin in Durban. It had been discussed and agreed by the families concerned when she was at primary school. Sonja’s demeanour hardened and she stuck out her jaw. ‘You know I will never marry Abidjan, anyway he always smells of ginger and garlic.’ Primella Ramjukh smiled. She loved her daughter dearly and was more willing to accept Sonja’s decisions in these matters of the heart. She had argued with Dilip to allow their son to join the navy. He had finally relented. She hoped he would relent with Sonja too but somehow Primella did not think so. Fathers’ daughters are so precious.

Mike set about preparing seed quotas for planting and went out to the stores and barn areas where some of the farm hands were taking the sisal sacks down from shelves. He gave them instructions and walked over to the stables where he saddled a horse and rode out to one of the pasture paddocks where he found Sonny and some men.

‘Howzit bro?’

‘Fine man, we have just about got this fence repaired and then will get five hundred ladies in here.’

Both Mike and Sonny saw their cows as family. Mike gazed in to the distance at the fields of millies and the small outcrops of rock. He noticed how the colours on the rocks changed as the sun passed behind clouds and re-appeared again with a shimmering brightness. Just as he turned away to head back to the house he thought he saw a reflection of glass or metal. Must be the sun playing tricks on my eyes or some mica stone he thought.

‘Where are you Mike, you seem to be miles away?’

‘Sorry ou maat (old mate) I was just thinking of ol’ Venter at the Co Op. He was acting strangely, you know, unfriendly and I’m not sure why. Our family has done business with him for as long as I can remember and before.’

‘Do you think it’s to do with you and Sonja?’

‘I don’t know. Listen Sonny can you handle things on your own tomorrow, Sonya and me are doing a braai at the Rock.’

‘Sure man, no sweat but remember you are on your own tonight ‘cos I got a date with Marcie.’

Like Sonny, Marcie was mulato and lived in Ficksburg, a town sixty km. away.

After a good wash and brush up and a liberal splash of after shave, Sonny set off in his ten year old but well conditioned Volkswagen Beetle. He was pleased with life. After the heartache and rebuilding, he and Mike were doing well. Apart from some issues which he believed they could handle he also had Marcie to think about. She was a couple of years older than Sonny and was at a local Ficksburg college studying pharmacy. Like Mike and Sonja, Sonny and Marcie were also a couple serious about spending the future together.

GRUB’S UP

The crickets had begun their evening choir practice and their sound was accentuated more so by the stillness of the night. Mike enjoyed these quiet evenings and wondered at the peace and beauty of them. He sat on the swing bench on the stoep sipping a cold beer, relaxing and thinking of the many things that had happened that day, not least of all, Sonja. I hope the rain holds off for tomorrow, he thought.

He did not notice two shadowy figures hurdling the nearest fence,even in the typical bright, African moonlit evening.

…………………………………………………………………

‘I’ve never heard of this place.’

Marcie was a sophisticated young woman who had ambition. She also liked to be knowledgeable about things, especially local knowledge. Sonny felt pleased he knew something she didn’t but there was no malice intent.

‘It’s a new place near the airport; you know the tourists go there for the lion cubs that are kept nearby.'

Game farms had become the big money earner in South Africa, especially amongst the very wealthy tourists who paid a fortune to shoot lion or buffalo. The leopards, cheetahs, elephants and rhino were on the endangered list so did not warrant culling. Whilst this form of income was abhorrent to many it did bring large amounts of cash in to the conservation programs. Sonny continued his victory parade,

‘It’s quite exclusive and I’ve heard has a great menu.’

‘Well Uncle Money Bags if you want to treat a poor, starving girl you won’t get any arguments from me.’

Marcie flashed her long eyelashes and curled up on the seat, provocatively demure. She was casually dressed in jeans and a lacy top with the minimum of make up. Sonny smiled to himself. A smart and attractive lady is my Marcie. He didn’t pay much attention to the headlights, in the rear, that were closing in on them, fast!