Shadow of Time

Over past few years I have had the joy of reconnecting with people who left my life as I journeyed through it.  The joy has been unexpected.  I am reveling in our shared histories and memories; enjoying rekindling friendships and acquaintances.  Some of these are already part of Fiona’s Favourites as I celebrate milestones and share memories associated with things I cook.  

This weekend, we went to the opening of Shadow of Time, an exhibition of three talented artists, all of whom have ties with Grahamstown, Estelle Marais, Diane McLean and Sharlé  Matthews.   The title speaks of the long and deep friendship between the three artists, which spans four or so decades.

There were four of us at the exhibition who had been at primary school together:  Diane and Sharlé, along with Wendy, who welcomed us to her home for the weekend.  Three of us, as well as Sharlé’s husband, Mike, were also subsequently at Rhodes.

A couple of years ago, Tom and I had popped in to see Diane in De Rust, where she lives, and a year or so before that, I had caught up with Wendy for the first time since 1975 – it was was just like we had seen each other the day before!  I can’t remember when I last saw Sharlé….other than on Facebook….

Funny the associations we have:  when Wendy mentioned to Sharlé that we would be at the exhibition opening, Sharlé had one instruction for Wendy:  “Tell Fiona not to forget her mother’s fudge recipe!”  I had forgotten that I had taken fudge to school cake sales (my mother was not a cake-baker), which reminded me that I had also sold it as part of bob-a-job when I had been a Brownie (I never became a Girl Guide…)

The fudge recipe is in my mother’s recipe book , which she acquired in 1961 – before any of us were even thought of.  And as you see, it was often in use – it still is.

What made that fudge so good, was the walnuts that Mum added, and which are not in the list of ingredients!

My memory of both Sharlé and Diane is that they were both good at art.  I don’t remember Diane without a pencil in her hand, drawing something – mostly ballet dancers…. So, through the shadow of time, the four of us, all of whom had been at Victoria Girls’ Primary School in Grahamstown, came together, in Wellington, in the Swartland, some forty-odd years later.