The Self-employed Housewife: A Seaman's Wife's Story Ch 20
She attended a yoga class on a Wednesday morning from 10 until after lunch while the kids were at school. Either she would drive Jan to work first so that she could have the use of the car or if he was home she could just take the Beetle. Jan would soon be looking for another car because his new job entitled him to a car allowance.
Reading several books by the author Lobsang Rampa had exposed her to some difficult concepts; like when he wrote about being a walk-in.
She pondered many such questions during her drive to the yoga class in Lorraine, an affluent suburb nearer the city centre where Cynthia lived.
Cynthia’s daughter-in-law Sonja brought her friend Mel whom she had met twice before. Mel was in her forties and her children were all grownup.
“Cynthia do you think he is for real, I mean does he really exist?” she asked, expecting to get the right answer since Cynthia was so much older and wiser. They were all having coffee and cake baked by Cynthia’s domestic servant who lived on the property and whose family were from the Transkei, the province they had driven through.
“I understand that he uses this name as a pen name” Sonja replied. Her baby was almost due, and they had organised a surprise ‘baby shower’ for her.
“You mean it’s all made up?”
“No I do not think so. Not all of it anyway. What do you think mom?” Sonja asked
“I don’t really care one way or another, but if you must know, many people were unconvinced about the book's origins. I did read somewhere that the author of the book was a man named Cyril Henry Hoskin, who had been born in Plympton, Devon, in 1910 and was the son of a plumber.”
“Oh really?” Feelings of been taken for a fool for believing his story to be true started to erupt in her. Last week she had asked Pat the same question, but Pat believed that only though fiction can one write about paranormal and occult themes. Her explanation was new to her, but very plausible.
“My hubby told me that he had read in a newspaper in the UK that the Dalai Lama's deputy secretary had said that Lobsang Rampa’s works were highly imaginative and fictional in nature." Mel agreed as she was getting up to leave. Sonja followed but with difficulty. She was getting huge, and uncomfortable.
They were all silent when Cynthia’s girl took away the light lunch dishes. After all, their conversation was on a very controversial topic.
“Apparently the Dalai Lama had admitted to the press that although the books were fictitious, they had created good publicity for Tibet.” Mel said.
“Have you read the The Rampa Story?” Cynthia asked her when they were on her front porch where a big Jasmine creeper was in full bloom. The fragrance was powerful but very pleasant.
“No, I don’t think so. Can I find it in the library?”
“Hermien you will never find these books in our library.”Sonja replied. The clouds were getting darker, looking as if it was going to rain.
“Let me have a look, I might have it.”
“Mom you lent several books of his to... what’s her name? the woman who wants to return to the UK to open a pub with her husband?” Sonja said while Cynthia went inside to look on her bookshelf.
She was very keen to read his personal story after the kids were in bed.
“You right. It’s not here. Sorry. I will have to ask her for them before they leave.”
On the way home she would stop at Pat’s second hand book shop. Who knows she might have a copy.
In this book you can read all up on the insights into the Akashic records, reincarnation as well as Rampa’s journey to unexplored dimensions and realms where he encounters a variety of spiritual teachers and has adventures with supernatural beings.
Primary school rules
She enrolled Sascia in a dual medium school. That meant they offered education in both Afrikaans and English. Sascia would attend Sub A in English. The headmaster had asked if they wouldn’t consider enrolling her for the Afrikaans classes, but neither she nor Jan were interested. They already had a dislike for the Afrikaans speaking government with their apartheid policies, but she couldn’t tell him that. Sub A would start in January and they had already bought her school uniform. Jeroen would start the following year, so he was also enrolled in a pre-school morning class.
“Mommy can I have my hair like this?” They were on a practice run with her new green uniform. The joy her little girl expressed stopped her from expressing herself about kids needing to wear a uniform. She was so appalled by the whole English uniform system. It was so regimented and controlling. All kids must look the same, like little solders.
“Come on enough now. Hang your uniform away and put your pyjamas on you two. Guess what, we are going to the drive in.”
“Yippy. Are we eating supper at the drive in?”
“Yes daddy is preparing coffee for us and we can buy chips at the shop after the cartoons.” They had a healthy lunch, veggies from the garden, so a bit of junk food would be okay.
They were going to see The Apple Dumpling Gang, she hoped that that was the first film, because it was a comedy so far as she knew, and Sascia would still be awake. She was sorry to have missed the movie: One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest. The paper said that The Cassandra Crossing with Richard Harris, Sophia Loren, was playing instead. She loved any movie with Sophia Loren.
December Family visit
The weather had warmed up but the wind was still strong and relentless. No wonder they called PE the windy city.
“Let’s hurry. It takes at least thirty minutes to get to the train station”. Jan urged. They now had two cars. Jan was driving a Toyota and she had the Beetle all to herself like she had in Durban.
“Mommy will Oma and Opa bring presents for Christmas, or do we get them earlier?” Sascia asked. She was truly looking forward to have her parents staying with them for Christmas. They were travelling by train from Johannesburg, where they visited Jan’s sister first, to break up their six week holiday. Her dad would never stay as long as they once had in Australia. They planned to stay one week in Johannesburg, then four weeks with them and on the return journey another week in Johannesburg.
The three months visit when they lived in Croydon, a suburb of Melbourne, had become a burden. She and her mom couldn’t get along for that length of time. Her dad was never a problem, but her mom was emotionally very needy and needed to be entertained. She truly had every intention of staying patient with her this time remembering that her mom had been very hurt when Sascia blurted out “I am glad you are going” on the way to Melbourne airport. She must have overheard a conversation between her and Jan.
She had been shocked, hearing those words coming from her three year old toddler, especially when her Dad replied agreeing that they had overstated their welcome. Mom’s comment had been full of hurt, which made her feel terrible.
Ayn Rand's plot, theme, and the strong characters outline her entire philosophy on the morality of capitalism
Christmas EVE preparations
Her parents loved their home and the weather was warm but lacked the tropical damp heat she knew from Durban, which was nice, especially for them.
In the evening after the kids had gone to bed, the adults worked out how to wrap each present in an unusual way, including writing a rhyme that would describe the individual who the present was for. This had always been a traditional activity for St,Nicolas evening on the 5th of December, but from now on it would be their Christmas Eve event.
“No, you are not allowed to look!” Granny said with a grinning face at Grandpa, when she discovered Sascia suddenly peeking at what she was wrapping up.
“Mommy I wasn’t, truly” Sascia replied all innocently to no one in general.
“You are supposed to go to sleep. Why are you out of bed?” Jan remarked. Her six year old had snuggled up on the couch with her thumb in her mouth.
“I cannot sleep and Jeroen does not know I’m still up. When I go to primary school can I go to bed later?”
“What, and are you still sucking your thumb?” Her dad said with a smile while he got up to make coffee for everyone. He did that every evening while her mom would bake every now and then.
“Jan I have invited Jenny and their children to celebrate Christmas eve with us.”
“So I have heard. Jeroen told me. He was all excited”
“Who are they? Have we met them?” Her mom asked. The doors were wide open to let in a cool breeze. She had taken her mom around to many of her friends, so she would not have to complain that they did not socialize.
“Yes last week, remember? We visited Jenny after we picked the kids up from pre-school and gave Oliver who is Jeroen’s age a lift. They have become great buddies.”
During the day her dad was happy pottering around in the garage, or fixing things around the house while she tried to do some leather work in her small outside workplace. Her mom loved shopping and meeting people, so she tried to divide her attention between her, the kids and Jan. Her Dad only liked to come along with them when they went grocery shopping, but then they wouldn’t socialize afterwards. He was a quiet introverted man who had been at sea all his life and now that he was retired her mom liked to include him in all her social activities. That was not quite his scene and was not working out for him.
What she really wished she could do in the evening was read her Ayn Rand book Atlas Shrugged. Her mom kept interrupting her the moment she began to reading, finding it unsocial. She had hidden her Lobsang Rampa books because her mom had already made negative comments after Jan had told her that she was into New Age books. Instead they played several games of cards in the evenings.
They had no TV yet. Sascia told them that many of her school friends did have TV but they didn’t think it was worth it with only a few hours broadcasting every day. They might change their mind in the New Year.
It was nice to have them visiting, but she was glad it was only for four weeks!