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Come out! I shouted Come out! because then I knew A. was hiding there somewhere amongst the reeds to torment me. Lord knows how she got there so soon must have taken a short-cut through the little vlei but she wasn’t coming out & then I took the parcel & chucked it far into the dam. Then it took a long time to sink & all the time I knew she was watching. Threw a few clods of earth in there to chase her out but it didn’t work. What a spectacle, good Lord.

So now we’re going to have a whole drama about it again.

Better go & have a look at what’s happening it’s been dead quiet all afternoon. A. nowhere to be seen. Jak had to see to his own lunch. Six o’clock now. Still don’t hear anything stirring in the kitchen. Perhaps she’ll come back when it’s Jakkie’s bath-time. How are we to look each other in the eye?

Last Sunday of September 1960

A. in a mighty huff. As good as her baking was for Dominee’s visit so disastrous was everything for the christening tea. Deliberately upset a jug of milk on the tray & the guests’ shoes were full of dogshit because she hadn’t swept the garden path. Remained sitting in the car during the christening service even though Dominee had said she could sit in the side-room & listen to the service. Didn’t even want to pose in the little church park with the blue cranes for a photo with Jakkie in his christening robe.

Will bloody-well not let myself be buggered around by her. Will make her work until she is tractable so that she can see what it cost. Faith & sweat & blood of generations just so that she who’s Agaat can live off the fat of the land on Gdrift & pluck the fruits through no effort of her own.

Must I skin her alive? I asked & then I had an idea. Tanned & brayed you must be that’s punishment number one & if that doesn’t cure you then I have a few others.

3 October 1960

Have been watching her though the binoculars where she’s sitting & braying the thongs in the back under the bluegum trees. Had D. provide her with a bray-stone & handle. She’d better sing I told her so that I can hear where she’s working. As long as you keep jibbing you’ll bray hides I said. Will teach her to pull up her shoulder at me. I see J. has gone & added three more lynx hides to the heap it sickens me how he decimates the small game. New sporting rifles with sights they can’t miss take a trap I say then at least the poor things also have a chance.

5 October 1960

It’s my will against hers & she knows it. The chin is stuck out there & she carries on with the one arm. Up & up she winds the thong till it drips & plucks the stick out of the handle & down & down winds the thing & then up again on the other side. Has broken two bray-poles already. A mob of farmboys mocking her. That’s how the first rod broke says Lietja one got a blow against the head that had the blood flowing so now they’re more careful stand there at a safe distance.

6 October

I cut off a piece of thong with the knife & press it under hr nose. See the hide is tanned & the core is white. I take a raw thong & I cut it & show her look the core is black. Just like that it will be with you. I’ll wind you up until all your black sins drip out of you & wind you down & wind you up again in the other direction till you’re a decent servant-girl who doesn’t leave one in the lurch when you need her most. She gives me that wooden eye I could slap her.

7 October 1960

Four days of curing thongs & A. just gets worse all the time. Breaks things in the kitchen when she has to help cook in the evenings. Mixing bowl glass jug in shards two saucepans so burnt had to throw them away milk sour from bottles not washed properly clothes get stained in the washing whole baskets of eggs get broken hens have stopped laying & Jakkie constantly fretful. Must look after him myself all the time now can’t lie there in the open under the bluegums with A.

I ask hr: But don’t you miss Jakkie then during the day? Don’t you just want to leave off your quirks now & become good again? Conceived & born in sin she says. I scold her about the thistles in the flower garden & charlock in the vegetable garden & the hornet’s nest on the stoep they fly in at the front door & go up & down with their abdomens against the curtains. Take down the hornet’s nest I say just now one will sting Jakkie. Can’t reach she says. Very well then I say then you’ll plough an acre with a handplough & a mule.

J. says you & that coffee-toffee of yours can’t you just fire her next thing she’ll drop dead with exhaustion & what will you do then? Just remember I’m not erecting the monument.

Don’t have an answer for him. Feel guilty. But the guiltier I feel the angrier I get.

9 October 1960

On purpose at first gave her an old plough with a rusty share with the wrong blunt point & a bent beam & saw to it that the hauling-chain was first hanging too high & then too low & watched her struggling with the share that wouldn’t grip & kept on sticking & somersaulting head-over-arse or climbing point first out of the furrow & the mule eventually getting all confused & headstrong.

Waited for her to get good & tired & then I said now you go & read your Handbook well where they explain the art of ploughing by hand & then you come & say your lesson to me & when you know it & explain to me why you’re struggling like that then we make a plan but plough you will the field one arm or not. D. says Ai Mies. I tell him to keep his trap shut if she wants to be otherwise she’ll find out at first hand what that means. A good servant is like a shiny share that shears with ease.

11 October 1960

A is walking with an even tread on one side of the plough with the strong hand on the handle & hr shoulder pulled up high & talks to the mule & sings to awake the echoes: Big baboon climbs the hill farmer’s wife takes a pill. Knew everything when I tested hr this morning. The whole logic of the plough-bottom. Share-point inclined to the unploughed ground. Hollow under hoof. Mould-board. Tow-line on the centre of the share. On the tips of her fingers.

Took her to the co-op & said now you choose yourself a plough here & shares that look right to you for that damp river-soil. So then she knew exactly what is what & as cheeky as you please asked me right in front of the salesman: Do we have a wire brush & grease & graphite & fine oil to soak the bolts after I’ve finished ploughing & do we have paint otherwise this plough will lie & rust just like the old one. Punish me as much as you like said her crooked back as I walked behind her.

Must think up something else. Feel terrible. But can’t stop.

13 October 1960

J. says he feels like going to live in a flat in town & becoming a lawyer he’s had a bellyful of being an extra in my concentration-camp movie. Says he’s had enough of the mess in the house & what’s happened to my wonderful house-slave she can’t even iron a shirt properly & why must she struggle with a handplough or is this now my latest design for a hotnot hobby first the flat seam now the plough furrow. Had to throw away three shirts this week with scorch marks on the collar. Made her waterproof a large tarpaulin with fat & linseed oil over & over again on both sides.