How do I describe my fascination for the soul called Helen Martins and her (like mine) loneliness of a love gone and a life alone and the reclusiveness that blossomed into a work of art? I can but only write in words of art how I see her adventure of life.
Visiting my ‘Ouma and Papa’s farm house, I would sit at her feet listening to her talk to my Late Mother and Father; for this I thank her.
This is book is a cameo of Len Hobson’s memories of growing up in the 1930s, the early days of farming in the Karoo, his youthful exploits, his exposure to the poverty of the poor whites at that time and his grief at losing his sibling and later, two of his wives. Len Hobson is a humble soul who has never lost touch with the simple side of life. He is a down-toearth man of the soil.