Sundays...... and the memories of sharing

My maternal grandparents had a farm near a town called George, around 400 km's from Cape Town towards the east. A region we call the Garden Route as it is so beautiful between mountain and sea.
Not one of those huge 1000 hectares machines, but a very modest tiny small place with fields falling down into a beautiful river and an hours walk to the sea! Still one of my favourite places called Harold's Bay.
http://virtualgardenroute.co.za/vtours/perlemoen/harold%27s%20bay/_flash/haroldsbay.html

The Sundays of my childhood were very special. My granny on the farm (ouma plaas) was behind the cooking pots from early morning. In those days no telephones, emails, skype, cellphones etc and we used to ask her who's coming for lunch. In general her answer was, I don't know, but you'll see. And sure thing, after church the cars started pulling up and in the end, her tiny kitchen with it's huge Aga, used to spatter and boil and cook and produce food for between 20 to 30 persons.
One of my favourites was when she took the bread out of the oven and having a huge slice with butter melting all over your fingers.
And the aroma of her burning her coffee beans in a small black pot on the coals outside the house.
Smells that stay with you for the rest of your life. And then, many years later, you happen to stumble upon an Ethiopian restaurant in Paris where the hostess burns her coffee beans in a tiny pan and walks around the room with the fumes and smells taking you back to your childhood. How wonderful to be small again.

What a joy.
But the lesson was learned
My grandparents shared the little they had with those they loved!
That's what life's all about.
Sharing

ps And it's nice to share some memories with you on a Sunday evening when I'm feeling a bit homesick for Africa.