Boxmoor and District Probus Monthly Newsletter Number 1, April 2020 A Message from the Chairman Six months ago few people had heard of corona virus and the term Covid-19 had not been invented. Now it is dominating our lives; influencing where we go and the people we meet as well as the economy and, for some, our ability to buy the things we need. Like all other organisations Boxmoor Probus has been affected by the virus. We have had to cancel our meetings, outings and theatre trips for the foreseeable future. This has involved a great deal of work for the Committee members who organise these things. Andy Cunningham, Steve Jacklin, Dave Norris and Geoff Kirk have all been involved in making the cancellations and are doing what they can to get refunds on our behalf. We are very grateful to them all. The primary object of Boxmoor Probus is to provide fellowship for its members. Without being able to hold meetings or arrange outings it is very difficult to do this. We must applaud the initiative shown by Andy Cunningham in launching this newsletter which we hope will help us to keep in touch with each other until we can get back to normal. Please support Andy by providing him with material that he can include in future issues. Finally, and most importantly, stay safe and stay healthy so we can resume our normal activities when the all-clear is given. Mike Beavington ------------- Notices spotted by Peter Balding a) Outside barbers shop ‗ only 1 haircut per person‘ b) On back of small businessman‘s van (no toilets rolls left overnight in this van) ------------- 1 In Memoriam You have all heard of the sad death on 17th March of Keith Hopes one of our fellow members. Keith‘s funeral took place on 1st April at Amersham Crematorium and in the current situation 10 family members were allowed to attend. To enable us to pay our respects I have asked Keith‘s brother, Peter, to write a short obituary piece. Keith was born in Hemel Hempstead in 1932, and left local school at the age of 14 as was usual at that time. He passed his driving test as soon as he was old enough, his first car being a 1929 Austin 7, and this was probably why he became a lifelong enthusiast for these little cars. After several occupations, he became an engineer at Vauxhall Motors and later transferred to Shaw & Kilburn on the car sales division, until his retirement. He met his future wife, Rose Allen, also a local girl, and they were married in 1957. They later moved to Bovingdon and had two children, son Neil and daughter Sharon, and 2 grandchildren, and celebrated nearly 63 years of marriage. His main interest was motoring, acquiring a 1927 Austin Chummy, totally rebuilding it, and running it in numerous rallies for many years, and becoming a committee member of his local club. His other passionate interest which he shared with his wife was gardening, visiting gardens and historic houses during the summer months, spending hours of time in and on their own immaculate garden at Bovingdon. On behalf of Rose, her family and myself, I would like to give heartfelt thanks to Probus Committee and Members for their kind messages of sympathy and cards received. Peter Hopes ------------- 2 Home of the Baobab A short story by Tom Bloch Bulawayo had a lot going for it in the 1950‘s, especially if you were a teenage lad wanting to get out and about. Hiking in the bush, travelling north by train to Victoria Falls or south to Cape Town and driving to Chimanimani Mountains, Zimbabwe Ruins or Johannesburg. And watching the landscape change on the way. After the rains broke in November the grass and leaves grew, creating swathes of green over the countryside, interspersed with flowers of every colour and red, blue, purple and white blossom on the trees. Travelling south and descending into the Low Veldt the grass gave way to stretches of sand and large trees to smaller ones and thorn bushes. The exception was the mighty baobab tree found scattered around the Sabi and Limpopo River valleys in the Low Veldt. There might have been some taller trees at Bulawayo‘s higher altitude, but none that could match the baobab‘s huge girth. Its massive and often strangely creased trunk was topped by a disorderly tangle of branches which dwindled into a jumble of twigs. I never ceased to marvel at the baobab. I was about sixteen when I travelled, with a few other Boy Scouts, in the back of a Land Rover on an expedition to South Africa. The miles disappeared quickly as most of the road was wide enough to pass an oncoming car without having to drive with the left wheels off the tarmac and on the dirt margin. Anyway, there weren‘t that many cars on the road. We stopped for a break at Muzunga, about half an hour before border controls at the Limpopo River. We bought Cokes at the general store and took them outside to look for a shady place to drink. An old man, probably from a nearby kraal*, sat on a rickety bench under the umbrella of an acacia tree. We asked if we could join him. He nodded and smiled, his gnarled and yellowing teeth (those that he still had) showing up against his dark skin and wispy grey beard. I sat gingerly on the bench next to him. The others sat on the ground. The old man sipped some drink from an enamel mug. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ * kraal - small village 3 The sand all around gave way, every now and then, to patches of dry grass and thorn bushes. A magnificent baobab stood seventy or eighty yards away. One of the Scouts said, ―Look, there‘s a kid nearly at the top of that baobab tree. I wonder what he‘s doing.‖ The old man smiled proudly. ―That boy is my grandson. He is collecting baobab leaves.‖ I stared at him blankly. ―Why? What will he do with them?‖ ―They are good to eat. We will cook them and have them with our sadza**. But my son will visit in a few days. He will maybe bring a chicken or some meat and we will enjoy baobab leaves with that. ―I never knew the baobab was food,‖ said a Scout. ―I thought it was just a tree.‖ ―Most trees are good,‖ the old man said. ―Look at this acacia. Full of thorns, but it gives us shade. And we receive much from the baobab. We crush the seeds and use the oil for cooking. The tree also gives drink. Do you see torn bark on that tree? An elephant has eaten it for the water inside. ―And what do you think this is?‖ he held up his mug. The baobab fruit gives us juice which we can drink or make into beer. This is what I am drinking now. Try it.‖ He passed the mug to me. I sipped. It had a strange, slightly bitter tang. I could get used to it, but would always prefer a Coke or a cold Castle lager. I passed the mug on and everyone tasted baobab beer. A couple grimaced or shook their heads. I didn‘t think it‘d go down well in the bar of the Cecil Hotel. ―You wouldn‘t have thought to get so much good out of such a weird looking tree,‖ I said. Again the old man treated us to a toothy smile. ―Do you want to know why the baobab tree looks so strange?‖ he asked. ―There‘s a reason for that?‖ someone replied. ―Of course. There is a reason for everything. My father told me why the baobab looks as it does. He was told by his father, who was told by his father, who was told by his father, back to the dawn of mankind.‖ We gazed at him, wondering what we would hear. He dragged the time out, sipping from his mug, before starting to speak again. ―God created the earth, the sun, the moon and the stars. He made mountains and valleys, rivers and lakes, and all manner of different places, hot and cold. He created humans, all the animals, all the fish, all the plants and all the trees. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ ** sadza - maize meal porridge 4 ―He was weary from his labour, but he did not stop to rest until he had created everything. The last tree he created was the baobab. It was a splendid tree and God put it in a dry place where it would be the highest of the trees and easily seen by those who passed. ―The baobab gazed all around and was proud of its size and its might. In the spring its leaves grew and it bore fruit. It looked at other trees and felt it was in a wonderful world.‖ The old man paused to drink. No Scout drank his Coke. We were entranced. The old man continued. ―Spring passed and turned into summer. There was no rain and the temperature rose, stifling beasts and plants alike. Animals sought shade during the day, often in the shadow of the baobab, and ventured out at night to seek food and water. ―But the baobab was larger than all, and felt uncomfortable in the heat. It protested to God, but the heat continued and animals continued to seek shade beside it. ―Again the baobab protested. And again. Eventually God relented and agreed to move it to a place which was not as hot.