Another Mango and Biggles adventure!

Well, did Mango and Biggles have an adventure last night!? I went outside the property to put the porcupine food under the hedge at the top of the driveway and on my way back, I noticed that the windflowers, which have died back for winter and are just tall, dead stalks, were obscuring my appreciation of the stunning display of the leucadendrons. I proceeded with the lengthy task of snapping each stalk at the base and then got engrossed in pulling out the long runners of kikuyu and kweek grasses which insist on invading the flowerbeds. While I was doing this, I became aware of a rustling in the branches of the milkwood tree above me, which has grown so much in the last few years that it extends quite far over the 6-foot spiky fence. I thought nothing further, knowing it was one of the kitties, and after about half an hour, went inside because it was getting dark.

Next thing, I noticed that Biggles wasn't inside the house, and I like to have them both inside well before dark as they haven't done any nocturnal prowling yet. I just knew that he was on the wrong side of the fence, so I hotfooted out there, calling and calling, and sure enough he came running out from under the hedge. He had been in the field next door. But he was so adrenalin-filled with this exciting new adventure that there was no way he was going to let me catch him.

Up and down the verge we ran, as he darted back under the hedge, only to appear further up a few seconds later. Then it was a charge across the driveway and over to the neighbour. I can only laugh at what I must have looked like - there can be nothing more foolish than chasing after an animal that doesn't want to be caught! Next thing, there was Mango - she had climbed the tree and jumped over to join the escapee. And then, horrors! K arrives home from work and throws a fit because I'm not looking after the kitties and they're going to run across the road and be killed, etc. So there the two of us are chasing the cats in the dusk like a couple of loonies while she panics and I tell her to shut up. They are, after all, cats. However, I too was worried about the road and as the last lingering light faded, our errant kitties decided to let themselves be caught.

They are being punished today - no going outside at all - although I don't know if that's going to mean anything to them! If we are in such a state after just a few months, imagine what we'll be like after 10 years!

Keeping the pot boiling

Quiet day at home pottering around the house and garden. Sundays are usually spent doing rather a lot of cooking - breakfast, lunch and supper - but if I can be clever about the timing I sometimes get away with a mid-afternoon lupper (alternatively sunch). Today was one such day, but only due to the arrival of unexpected guests which led to imbibement in the nether regions of the house (aka: beers in the garage), while I fiddled around upstairs. I made chicken in wine sauce with rice and veg for K, who doesn't like braaied meat or lamb, which HWCFA eventually made at 4pm for lupper. Ideally, I should have made a huge chicken curry to feed the masses in the garage, but somehow I only thought of that after their departure.

While I cooked, I got around to thinking about why I go to all this trouble. Well, obviously because no one else is going to do it, but mainly because I like to know that there is always something nutritious in a pot on the stove when anyone comes home - and it could be any time of the day or night. It gives great satisfaction to know that they can rely on me to always hold the fort and ensure that every need is met, even if I myself am going out for a meal that evening. Sometimes it leads to lots of leftovers, which they then get served day after day until all is consumed.

It's even a source of great satisfaction to eventually open the fridge and find there is nothing in it apart from a three-week old piece of cheese, some olives, a bottle of Cape Velvet Cream (I think that's been there for at least 10 years now), the last of the milk and a few wilted vegetables. It means I can go and stock up again and we can have some exciting new dishes. I've been trying for years to get them all onto a healthy eating plan, but you can lead a horse to water..... The big problem is you can't control what they are eating away from home and I have a cadenza when I open the wheelie bin and find empty brown bags and Coke bottles, meaning they picked up some fast food along the way. The word 'food' is, of course, a misnomer.

On reflection, I see that my place in this household is glorified housekeeper, but there are compensations - I get mornings off, do ladies' lunches, and best of all, take overseas trips without them!

To wit, to woo

Another stunning June day in Cape Town. Our Saturday morning family brunch took place at the Blue Water Cafe, Imhoff Farm, where we took up our customary pose in a 'straight stripe', which enables us to all look at the same view and see the same things at the same time (these are usually confined to birds). I am pleased to report that the food has returned to its high standard after a regrettable dip a while back and can now be put back on the agenda!

The afternoon was taken up with tennis (Vamos, Rafa!) and some swotting up on Toastmasters protocol, while HWCFA carried on in the garage, applying a painted surface a la Formula One pits.
Time flew and before I knew it, the sun had disappeared, leaving an extended twilight with a soft orange glow on the horizon. The crescent moon was but a sliver in the firmament, with bright Jupiter hovering nearby.

And suddenly, two hoots (you might ask, who gives them?). A pair of owls appeared on the neighbours peaked roof, like a set of birdy bookends. What a treat to hear them calling to each other before they swooped silently into the dusk, in search of dinner.

The end of another perfect day, with the promise of another to come.

Are we 'intelligent life'?

I have a number of matters preying on my mind at the moment pertaining to the ills of society, to which it seems that there are just no solutions. Well, there are solutions, but those who need to take action are not capable of doing so. Humankind has sunk to such a low level of regard for fellow beings, human and animal, and particularly for the planet we live on, that it is going to take a massive event, probably in nature, to bring us back to the same 'level' where no one being dominates another. After all, that is what it is currently all about. Making sure that everyone obeys 'you' and 'your beliefs'. Imposing 'your will' on others. And somewhere along the way, all respect for another's life has been thrown out of the window. We certainly live in a very primitive society. We should be ashamed.

It is up to each one of us, individually, to do right to others - simply ensuring that nothing you say or do will harm them. If we are 'intelligent life' (and that is the million-dollar question), how difficult can it be?

   

The old days

As I recover from my two clumsy falls over a chair, with every muscle in my arms and shoulders feeling as though I've been dragging a boat up the beach, I was reminded of the time, many years ago, when we kept a 12ft crayfish dinghy in the garage of a house at the beach in Kommetjie (it must have been about 1976). HWCFA (yes, it's been that long) and I would drag the boat across the road, through the dunes and down to the sea. Then we would carry the oars and about 6 crayfish nets and the bait down, and then row out to sea to catch crayfish! No engine in those days.

He would drop the nets and I doubt whether I pulled them up, so he probably did that too, while manoeuvring the boat in the kelp and ensuring that the oars didn't fall overboard. Once the flapping fresh crayfish were on board, it was my job to cut the bait out and throw it overboard and rinse out the bait bags so they didn't stink, while he rowed back to shore.

After carrying everything back to the house, we then (the two of us) dragged the boat back up the beach, through the dunes, over the road and into the garage. No wonder I've always had big arm muscles. I doubt whether anyone does that these days, with everyone having trailers and 4x4s, but life back then was simple and fun.

This is the only picture I have of myself of those times, at least in a string bikini, so I thought I would share it as it makes me realise that I also once had a body that could appear at Clifton 4th Beach and need not mourn its demise! And I do know what it feels like to drag a boat up a beach.

Passing shots and passing ships

What an exhausting afternoon's tennis! Just kidding - only about 3 hours, with bits of work and kitty hunting in between. Biggles has now discovered that he can jump from the tree onto the balcony and seems to be doing a round trip - balcony, out the front door, up the tree, balcony, out the front door, up the tree...
Then it was time for a loooong sleep.

 

I chanced to see a passing ship at sunset, as it slid silently past on a pond-like ocean. Whipping out the camera, I took some arty shots - pity I don't have a telephoto lens, but it was an interesting phenomenon nonetheless. I manage to see so many fascinating things through this little gap between the trees, but it means I have to be constantly on the lookout. Whales, oil rigs, a US aircraft carrier, fishing boats, ski boats and passenger liners and a constant flotilla of cargo vessels pass the Cape of Good Hope in good weather and bad. There are times when the bulge of the bow that is below the waterline is visible as the vessel ploughs through the massive swells coming in from the South Atlantic, and plumes of white water explode over the deck as it plunges into the next swell. It's little wonder that our coastline is literally a ship's graveyard, particularly for the early wooden vessels which had only sails to rely on to keep them away from the treacherous reefs that guard our coast.

 

A great seat, but mind your feet!

I was fortunate enough to be given this 'typist's chair' - I suppose you could call it a kneeler - by someone who was throwing it out and I have to say it is without a doubt the most comfortable chair I have ever sat on at a desk. My shoulders don't get stiff and sore, I'm always sitting up straight, and the backs of my legs don't get the kind of pressure that forms cellulite.

It is a question of getting the pressure evenly distributed between the base of the spine and your shins. However, if you are clumsy like me, and prone to tripping, usually up flights of stairs, it is best to remove both feet from between the 'seats' before standing up and walking away. This afternoon, having become quite au fait with the workings of this chair, I leapt up and got my foot tangled somewhere in there, with the result that I fell through the doorway next to the desk, bashing both shins and knees, arms and hands, while frantically holding my head up to avoid a collision with the door frame and subsequent loss of front teeth. The chair landed upside down.

Oh, the pain! A huge chunk of flesh has disappeared from one shin and there will be bruises tomorrow. All I could do was lie there groaning and rubbing my legs to lessen the pain, while not one cat or dog came to see how I was. K was using the hairdryer and had her earphones on, so any hope of rescue was in vain. If I had broken a leg, no one would have known.

Eventually I managed to haul myself up off the ground and hobble to her room, where her first reaction, on seeing that I wasn't actually incapacitated,was to ask where the cats were as I may have frightened them! Monty did lick my wounds, although I don't know if that is such a good idea, and I can only hope that there will be suitably impressive bruises, otherwise there will be no chance of sympathy from anyone!

A few sunset shots

Today was much the same as yesterday, starting with a little business brunch and then back to screeding the garage floor, with only the odd break to make tea, lunch, tea, watch GP (I read) then back to work. In between, Mango and Biggles did their thing and Monty and Susie slept. A day that featured pretty low on the excitement scale!

I made sure I escaped to spend a few sunset minutes down at the rocks, and this is the result.

Another fun day in the garage

We awoke to a spectacular winter's day in Cape Town - a fitting start to winter - with clear skies, no wind and the luxuriating warmth of sunshine! Mango Kitty and Mr Bigglesworth were outside before sunrise and up in their favourite place - trees! Although they spent all day outside, my day didn't quite turn out like that.

It started with our usual Saturday morning brunch - Mom, Dad, two sisters and me - and because of the lovely weather, we went to the Easy Dig at Goemans Nursery along the Kommetjie Road. I instantly succumbed to a new variety of aloe and was lucky enough to find one that already had four 'babies' crowding out the pot, so that can be shared among the family! Dad likes to be inside at the fire, so we spent a pleasant few hours at the fireside, but not in the sunshine.

When I got home, all the cars were out of the garage (8-car garage - not all of it occupied) and I heard the dreaded words 'we're going to screed the floor'. I ask you with tears in my eyes! So while, doubtless, the rest of the world took a day off, we mixed screed by the bucketload. I poured and cleaned implements in between each mixing, while HWCFA spread it. It took much longer than anticipated (of course) and was back-breaking (what a surprise!) and every time I went outside to wash the bucket out, I looked up at the azure sky, the warm glow of winter sunshine on the mountainside and the kitties frolicking in the undergrowth, and muttered to myself.

Obviously we didn't get an awfully large area done and I have been told that tomorrow we will continue. I can't tell you how I am looking forward to that. I haven't mentioned that I have a business appointment at 9, so I'll keep that as a surprise.

And so the first day of winter, the best day we have had in about 3 weeks, was spent inside. Why don't we do these things in summer, when it's too hot to be outside? Men.

The winter garden

As autumn leaves us behind and the first day of winter arrives with the Winter Solstice tomorrow, I thought it fitting to take a stroll around my storm-battered garden to capture the beauty that remains and to remember that some of our most striking inflorescences belong to the winter-flowering flora.
The ivy gave its last display just before the first storm, which has now completely denuded it, leaving just the stems intertwined in the dead coprosma which it covers so beautifully in summer.

 The bromeliads all flower at different times, but mainly in the cooler months, and this is one of my favourites. This variety doesn't have the viciously serrated edges on the leaves and I can de-snail without looking as though I have fought a duel with an expert swordsman!

In front of the property we have a collection of aloes (all coming into bloom in the next few weeks) and leucadendrons which are giving a great display of new growth in pale yellow and orange bracts, giving the impression of lit candles. The stunning blue agapanthus and pink and white wind flowers which grow in between were a good choice to provie year-round colour, although I have to confess that it was pure coincidence!

A rock rose and another spectacular indigenous plant which has a profusion of shiny pink petalled flowers all summer lurk among these leucadendrons, with a bright yellow vygie rapidly covering the ground around them all. They can fight it out, and may the best plants win!

 Another of my favourite bromeliads - they are actually all my favourite!

And here we have the gorgeously coloured seeds of the clivias which are so prolific in my garden. I must have 100 seeds this year, which I will scatter under the trees and enjoy watching them grow over time;

Finally, the big piece of kelp that I dragged up from the rocks last year did its job and my old lemon tree has outdone itself - although having barely a leaf on its lichen-covered branches, the crop of lemons will see us through winter!

Mango and Biggles have an adventure

Mango Kitty's diary:

Biggles and I had such an exciting day! First we had a good breakfast, then chased each other round and round the house, rolling and tumbling and having such fun rumpling the rugs and running up the blinds! Then it was time for a little rest. But then our mommy opened the front door to let those big white dogs out and we shot out and down the stairs and up a tree before she could blink.We think we are allowed outside now because she knows we will always come back inside for food and a cuddle, but it's fun to keep her guessing.

We went charging right down to the back of our great big garden and went to explore behind the shed, but then mommy came calling us, and Biggles ran fast and fell into the fishpond. He leapt out quicker than he went in and looked so funny, all wet and his fur sticking to him. He cried and cried until mommy took him inside and dried him with a noisy blowy thing and then he was all happy again.

Soon we were both outside again and up the milkwood tree. I was very brave and went all the way to the end of a very thin branch, but then I found myself on the other side of the big spiky wooden wall that keeps us safe. I hung there for a while and then mommy came to rescue me, thank goodness! In the meantime, Biggles had climbed another tree and had found the way onto the neighbour's garage roof. He didn't like that very much and quickly jumped back into the tree and came home.

By then we were absolutely exhausted and have been sleeping in the sun ever since. Mommy read us a little story about a kitty that went exploring and got lost and was nearly turned into a pie by some horrible rats. Maybe we will stay home  for a bit.

Source: The Tale of Samuel Whiskers by Beatrix Potter, F Warne & Co Ltd,UK.

Encouragement is a gift

Been having some fun today with these personality quiz things everyone shares on Facebook. They are quite fascinating - I think they are accurate, although I could be cynical and say that we all give the kind of answer we think will give the best result. That may not be true, though, because the people I know get categorised just as they should be, so maybe mine are also right. I would like to think so, as they are generally what I am aiming for in life.

Why do you think these quizzes are so popular?
1. Instant result.
2. Never a bad answer.
3. We all really want to know how the world views us and nobody is willing to ask in case they get a response they didn't want.
4. There are too few people who give compliments freely.

There is fortunately a growing trend among young people who do tell their friends when they are being kind or thoughtful, looking particularly ravishing in an outfit or generally making a contribution to the advancement of happiness in the world. Strict Victorian upbringing is almost a thing of the past, a culture that caused untold mental harm to generations who were on the receiving end of the idea that suppressing warmth and spontaneity was beneficial for children, and resulted in stunted emotional growth.

There are those who believe that to hand out praise is to encourage boastfulness, over-confidence and blowing your own trumpet. But how can a flower bloom without sunshine, food and water? We are all flowers waiting to bloom; nobody is without a bud that a little nurturing will bring to fruition. I don't know anyone who has suffered from a compliment, no matter how effusive or subtle, and I do believe that, far from spoiling the receiver, it is the giver that gains the most benefit. For it is in giving in all its forms that we receive the most.

Be happy

It's becoming increasingly difficult to open a newspaper, magazine, Facebook page or Twitter account without being bombarded by reports of war, economic depression, religious extremism and the deplorable treatment of women and children by the male of the species.  A great deal of this is fear-mongering to serve the agenda of those in power, and the majority of the population accepts what is fed to us despite growing evidence that the truth is mostly twisted.

The use of technology to manipulate photographs and videos has been foremost in spreading false information, and nothing travels faster than bad news on Facebook. It is becoming more and more apparent that a great deal of what is posted is not true, but posts are shared and forwarded and retweeted without investigation into the legitimacy of the story. People are absorbing bad news and not even realising why they are feeling down in the dumps and negative about their lives.

I have decided (once again, as it is sometimes difficult to resist passing on information about the scum of the world) to refrain from sharing the bad, and only sharing the positive and uplifting (but hopefully not ad nauseum), the beautiful and the true heroes. There is currently a viral video of the song, Happy, which has been adapted to each country, starring everyday people, just being happy. It's impossible not to get caught up in the vibe of this video, and I think it would do the world good if everyone started their day by listening to or watching it. I'm going to. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Ck2PXLuTy8&feature=youtu.be

The great outdoors

This week we took Mango and Biggles outside on their harnesses - Biggles was outside for the first time in his little life so we didn't want him to get frightened - and he was quite happy in the harness. Mango was out for the first time since she got stuck up a tree and poked her eye about a month ago! We've had to keep the house closed up for weeks and it's been a real bind with letting the dogs in and out. Today I left the door open and let them out into the big wide world!

It was straight up a tree for Mango, closely followed by the intrepid Biggles, and in no time they were peering out of the top branches. They explored up and down for about half an hour, while I watched anxiously in case they climbed over into the neighbour's garden, but they seemed to be quite happy in the home tree and I left them to it. Later Mango came inside for a snack and I went out to look for Biggles.
He was still in the top branches and I thought of getting a ladder, but suddenly he ran down a branch and launched himself about 8 feet down onto the bricks - obviously, he is a cat! So no worries about them going outside.

After all the fresh air, they have slept for hours now. It took me a long time to find Biggles and I did in fact go round the whole garden calling for him. Of course, he was sleeping behind the computer screen where I was working - nice and warm! He really is difficult to spot in the gloom!

Bumbling along the boardwalk

The 6 metre swells at Cape Point were really pushing today and at high tide there was the usual turnout to enjoy the ozone at the lighthouse. Saw a whole new crowd - everyone has their habitual walking time, so if you go out randomly you will eventually meet everyone you know - and all were in a mutual state of dishevelment in the blustery conditions. I actually forgot to take my coat and hat, as there is no wind in our garden and you tend to forget how cold it can be next to the sea, but although everyone else was dressed like Scott of the Antarctic, I didn't feel particularly cold in my long-sleeved t-shirt. Perhaps it was because I was carrying Susie, my blind doggie. It was quite difficult to hold the dog and take pictures at the same time, so you will have to excuse the horizons.

Yes, that is a very large container vessel!

I can certainly never be accused of being overly fussy about my appearance and usually one combing of my hair after I wash it every morning will suffice. Blow-drying seldom is on the agenda, and a chance glance in a mirror at the mall will always giving me a fleeting feeling of disappointment, but out of sight, out of mind, as they say. The one thing I am particular about, though, is track suit pants. I would never voluntarily be seen in public in what, to me, are pyjamas and they are strictly my comfortable 'at home doing housework' pants. I was quite mortified yesterday when I realised, halfway through my walk, that I had forgotten to change out of them. They are of the grey and baggy-kneed variety. I know that nobody even noticed but somehow it just didn't feel right. So today, despite forgetting the coat and hat, I put my jeans on early in the day, just in case!

High tide at the Kom

Another brisk beachfront walk this evening - everyone out watching the waves and surfers in the bright sunshine between cloudiness. The air was not too cool and in fact we were overdressed in jackets. The breakers were the colour of peppermint ice cream and looked just as cold, although this wasn't a deterrent for the many surfers enjoying the waves. Many wetsuited young men jogged past with surfboards under their arms, barefoot (on the tar, which must have been rather painful unless their feet were frozen) and we could only admire their passion for their sport. Who knows how far they had already run, only to surf in strong seas for an hour or so and then run back home again. They must be incredibly fit.

 
 The smell of rotting kelp, which we don't get down near the lighthouse, was very much on the airwaves as we passed the boat launching beach, and we were again reminded how lucky we are not to have that feature of Kommetjie, which makes you stop every so often and look under your shoes to see if you have stepped in dog poop. The sacred ibis, egrets and  gulls were having a feast in the piles of seaweed, pecking up the sea lice which feed on the kelp. It's a wonderful ecosystem and works perfectly, as nature does when not interfered with.

As  you can see from the photo, the kelp is pretty deep at the moment and is best avoided if you don't want to slip and find yourself in a bed of slimy vegetation.

The light was, as always, spectacular, with the clouds providing an ever-changing dapple of sunshine and shade to inspire artists and photographers alike. These wintry evenings are without doubt the best time of year for walking.

A special 'honey moon'

Beautiful mild winter's day in Kommetjie today. After doing some hacking back in the garden, planting onions and peas and finishing some work(!), I took advantage of the approaching sunset to take Monty for a walk along the bay in front of the house. As usual, he was the only dog on a leash, and we were constantly surrounded by boisterously bounding large-breed dogs. Fortunately he held his own in the melee and we emerged unscathed, but it will never be something I enjoy. Pity no one ever heeds the by-laws which are there for the convenience of all. I can only think that when I was a small child a big dog must have barked at me, because I have never been able to completely overcome a slight nervousness around big dogs, no matter how docile.

I met an old friend along the walkway and we chatted amiably as the sun sank into the sea and the cotton wool clouds lit up in its rosy pinks. All too soon the air took on a chill and it was time to get home before dark, and a delicious dinner of haddock kedgeree!

Tonight is full moon and it's Friday the 13th. Not being of a superstitious bent, my only interest in it is that it is called a 'honey moon' because it is most likely to glow yellow (moon is at perigee and atmospheric dust interference) and will occur again on a Friday the 13th in about 35 years or so. This is your only chance, some folks! Go outside and enjoy the sight - it must be on the rise right now.

Beauty blues

This morning it was so cold I couldn't bring myself to put face cream on my face (perhaps that is why it used to be called cold cream?), but by 9am things had warmed up a bit and I attempted to patch up the ravages of time with the expensive French ultra-firming day cream I have been using since time immemorial. I shudder to think what the wrinkles would look like if I hadn't, although you will probably find that one day we will be told that none of these magic potions have any effect anyway and it was all just a dastardly marketing ploy! (Prophetic words, I'm sure.)

This particular cream comes in a tube, and for a while now I have had to bend it to coax what can only be the dregs from the neck of the tube. The cream lasts for nearly a year, which will give an idea of how little you need to use - just a dab. The cold weather has made it a little less willing to make an appearance through the little hole, and I rested the tube against the bathroom shelf and bent it, applying what I thought was light pressure.

Of course, the precious contents snaked out like a jack-in-the-box and landed in the basin - about 3cm, enough to last more than a week! I scooped it up on the end of my finger to make a big blob and held it to the hole of the still squashed tube. As I squeezed the sides to restore its shape, the cream very obediently sucked back into the tube, so I'll be able to pamper myself for a while longer. If it had landed on the floor, I would definitely have used it as body cream so as not to let it completely go to waste. The alternative is, of course, to cut the tube open and scoop it out, but then it will be exposed to the air and harden overnight.

Has anyone invented a tube that can be squeezed until the last drop is out? They will make their fortune!

Real June weather

At last a proper June day in Cape Town. Today was what we've been waiting for - the cloudless sky, no wind, warm sunshine - not  the galeforce winds and stormy weather of the last few weeks. Admittedly it's all coming back by Friday, but today people were at the nursery looking at spring seedlings, forgetting that we still have July and August to come. I weakened for a punnet of peas - something I've never grown - and 40 onion plants. The latter should be safe from foraging porcupines, as they have never eaten them in the compost heap. I doubt whether the peas will ever reach the dinner table or even the inside of a pot. I can picture myself standing in the vegetable patch eating them straight from the pod!

This evening the call of the sea was too strong to ignore and we joined every dog and child on plastic motorbikes who have been cooped up inside for days! It was chaos on the path, with prams, dogs and bikes jostling for position. I nearly took a dive into the undergrowth as I missed my footing on a round rock - that would have been a laugh! But eventually everyone sorted themselves out into a disorderly crocodile and we could all concentrate on the spectacular weather. 

 A young boy fished for klipfish under the watchful eye of his mother, while just beyond a perfect short swell reared and tumbled at the Outer Kom. To the left a group contemplated heading out to the surf, but no action was forthcoming.


The light had that special quality that you only get in Cape Town at this time of year - crisp and bright with every colour seemingly exaggerated - and the sky canopy seemed to stretch endlessly into the void above.

Not a ripple disturbed the inner bay and tidal pool, apart from the disturbance caused by a diving cormorant after a quick dinner from a shoal of tiny fish sheltering in the shallows.

I have hundreds of photos of the view towards Table Mountain, and here are two more. How can we tire of such perfection?

An extract from "An Invitation to Think".

We are taught to strive for more, better, bigger, yet nothing is guaranteed to make us happy. If it doesn’t bring you joy, you don’t need it. Just as only you can know what is important in your life, so you cannot know what another person needs. Charity is all very well, but sometimes it can strip away a person’s dignity and rob him of his free will. This can lead to a lack of motivation and self-esteem. It is better to help with something specific when asked than to impose your idea of kindness on another. You are not responsible for any other human soul. Your responsibility is to be the best person you can and to use and develop the talents and abilities you have for the betterment of all. While it may sometimes be difficult to resist trying to control the lives of others, particularly when you feel you know the right way to do something, it is important to allow them to make their own decisions and their own mistakes in matters that concern themselves, otherwise they will have no opportunity to learn from their decisions. To give advice is just that – a guideline from your own experience, which may not be applicable in another situation. Your greatest gift to those who are dependent on you is to make them independent, giving them confidence to make their own mistakes without being judged by you.

Postcard from Spain 2012

ROAD TO JEREZ

       We stopped at one of the frequent roadside restaurants for brunch – huge plate of eggs, bacon and chips all swimming in olive oil and far too much again, but couldn’t identify anything else on the menu. A trucker’s delight!

The spectacular nature area of Desfiladero de Despeñaperro appeared without warning as we rounded a bend. Craggy cliffs which had been thrust into a perpendicular position lined a very deep gorge, with our side of the road crossing an immense viaduct and the road going in the opposite direction through a tunnel at the bottom of the gorge. It is a place of great beauty and apparently an area for sport hunting. Because we were unaware of exactly what type of scenery we would be driving through – difficult to tell from a map – we missed the only view site and regrettably were unable to take photographs of the awe-inspiring scenery. I would love to go back there some day, but off the main highway and into the park itself.

       We arrived at Jerez airport with no difficulty – road signs very good – to drop off the car and get the next one from a different car hire (the first one wasn’t represented at Malaga, which is where we would be handing it back). There was the same routine of ‘driver must be the one with the credit card’, but at least this time we knew the drill. Then we were sent off to the garage to fill up the tank so they could charge for the diesel – 35 litres and I had driven 650km in two days – no wonder I hadn’t seen much of the countryside.

       The new car was a Renault Megane – almost like an estate, very spacious and plenty of luggage room – started with a card that you put in the slot – never driven anything so technical or so big! We settled Mom in the back and set the GPS which we had to hire because we would have this car for ten days and be travelling through large towns. It turned out that the cigarette lighter in the car was faulty and so the GPS wouldn’t work. So back inside the airport – it is very hot again today – only to be told that we will have to change cars (because the lighter is faulty) and take a smaller model. I couldn’t face the thought of unpacking all that luggage again and also telling Mom that she wouldn’t be travelling in the style to which she had already become accustomed, so gave back the GPS rather than go through all that. We bought a good old-fashioned map and set off for our next stop, a four-day layover at the jewel of the hilltop towns, Arcos de la Frontera.

Super Sunday

After finishing some editing early this morning, taking a brisk walk in blustery but sunny conditions and partaking of a mini breakfast and maxi cappuccino, followed by preparing lunch (hot pudding included), I parked off for the rest of the day to watch the #2 highlight of the tennis year, the men's final at Roland Garros.

My two favourite players, Rafael Nadal and Novak Djokovic (in that order) were at it again, and I settled down on the couch, surrounded by dogs and cats huddling for warmth as temperatures outside plummeted, hoping for a 5-setter. Needless to say, my viewing was punctuated by frequent jack-in-the-box leaps from the couch to wait on HWCFA, who requires more attention than a three-month-old baby, serving food, beverages and fixing the TV settings after he presses the wrong buttons on the remote.

It was clear that Novak was suffering from some discomfort during the match, and although he recovered and it could so easily have gone to 5 sets, I can only say that certain members of the crowd should have been evicted due to unsporting behaviour, calling out incessantly and definitely putting him off his service. I am sure he won't use that as an excuse, but surely those sitting next to the offender should have gagged him? The umpire could have held a tighter rein.

However, I am very happy that Nadal won and has achieved his record 9 wins at Roland Garros. Perhaps next year for Novak. In the meantime, they continue to provide a spectacular display of skill for tennis lovers. Long may they last!

My garden idyll

It's always interesting to look at old photos to see how your garden has changed over the years. Sometimes it's hard to believe it ever looked so neat and tidy, as you survey the chaotic debris after a run of winter storms and no time spent gardening. I seem to have a comprehensive record of the river that has run through our property for the last 20 or so years - I think a watercourse must have become diverted as the hillside became dotted with more and more houses.

Various parts of the garden have had makeover after makeover, but all eventually became rambling and neglected due to pressure of other interests and obligations, not to mention an incredibly unreliable gardener.
In 2008 we enclosed the front portion of the garden and I built a rockery and relocated most of my shade plants (clivias and bromeliads) to incorporate them in my new private garden with railway sleepers under the milkwood tree.  A small fiddlewood tree, hibiscus and other shrubs had suffered from drought over the last 20 years as I never watered outside the fence, and in the last 5 years I can see what a difference watering would have made to their growth!

 

This is what the area looks like now - a veritable jungle! Soon it will be time to start hacking it back as the recent rains have encouraged new growth of 30cm and more on the fiddlewood, with the milkwood lagging only slightly. I have to confess that I never fed my plants either (hangs head in shame) and they are now receiving regular organic granules - let no one accuse me of neglecting my garden any more! The tranquillity of this little patch of garden under the tree will transport you into another world, with only the songs of the birdlife to interrupt your thoughts.

Our English Adventure #9

There were obviously places too far from Plymouth where the coach tours didn't go, or because they finally gave up in winter when the daylight hours were too few to justify a 'day trip'. Before we got our car, we had to hire one for short holidays and at mid-term, we were set to go up to the Lake District. Dad duly got the car, an Austin 1100, and we all piled in, while he opened the boot to put the luggage in. Needless to say, the car went straight back and an Austin Cambridge, which actually had a boot, replaced it. Comfortably ensconced, we set off on our first long trip.

We meandered through Wales, where we saw snow for the first time in our young lives, and newborn lambs out in the frozen fields - presumably they survived. All very exciting, but it was really only a light sprinkling! We reached the Peak District and saw absolutely nothing due to fog! On we drove, taking in all the new sights, the narrow country lanes, towering hedgerows and England's pastures green (mostly). Everything was new to us, especially the ancient buildings, inns and grand country houses. The Midlands were at that time still the hub of coal-fuelled industrial activity and grimy smog hung in the air. (I went back in about 2003 and was amazed at how clean and bright everything was - proof that our mistakes can be reversed.)

Our first night was spent at a country inn, I think the Spreading Chestnut or some such romanticism. It was not cheap, but absolutely awful. The breakfast table was covered in lino and had old baked beans stuck to it. When we reached the Lake District, we installed ourselves in the best hotel we ever stayed in while we were on our English Adventure - on the lake, snowy linen (with hot water bottles to take the chill off by the chambermaids, who treated my sisters and I like princesses), dinner tables covered in double damask, silver cutlery and gourmet food - all for the same price as the Spreading Baked Beans! We were so enchanted that we stayed for 4 days!

Mom tells me that their room was a kind of bridge between two wings of the hotel, and a river ran between the buildings. The rushing water kept waking her up and she would rush into the bathroom to turn off the taps before realising that it was the river.

Apparently Mom and Dad were congratulated by the hotel staff on the impeccable behaviour of their three children, which I have always attributed to their impeccable manner of bringing us up!

Jumping onto the bandwagon - consumer awareness

Once again I must take issue with a 'special' at Pick n Pay. Last week there was a prominent Save sign on rindless back bacon at R20, which seemed like a bacon lover's dream come true. As I stooped to retrieve a few packs from the bottom shelf - placed to draw your attention from the upper shelves - I scanned all the other bacon pricing to make sure this was in fact the cheapest on shelf.

Imagine my surprise when my eye fell on the same brand of rbb at R28 on a higher shelf. I picked one up and compared the two and fancy that! the one on special was 200g and the normal one 250g. Why the need for two weights for the same product? Did .... order too much of the 200g packaging or were they asked to use it for the special promotion?

Pick n Pay puts up labels to enable you to compare products by weight/Rand, and on comparing the two, the special was in fact cheaper than the normal product. But as always, my gripe with them is the way they advertise their specials. The consumer is led to believe that they normally pay R28 for the product, when in fact if they had bought the lesser weight not on special, it would have been R22. Not quite the bargain basement price that they want us to believe.

I have had issues with them before on their methods of advertising specials and have in fact been successful in having a special offer removed from the shelves while I watched. Retailers are in business to make vast profits for their stakeholders, and shopping should always be done with circumspection. Bulk packaging is very often more expensive than regular sizing and the weight/Rand label should always be examined for comparison. In this respect, I can commend Pick n Pay.

My sometimes anal obsession with price-checking of specials and readiness to confront store managers is based on a desire to ensure that consumers who are not able or willing to do this themselves can still have a voice.

It's your choice

Every moment of every day is an opportunity to change your mind about something. One of the most important decisions you can make is about what you put into your body, as this will have huge repercussions on your health. By making wise choices, the long-term benefit of buying more expensive, select ingredients now will be medical savings in later life.

There is no shortage of advice on the web, and from friends and family on what is good or bad, but all overlook one vital point – one size does not fit all; every body is different.

When I was in my 30s, I was told by two different physicians that my body was at a stage of deterioration of someone 20 years older and that I displayed typical symptoms of hypothyroidism, but no one actually diagnosed it. After years of painful joints, irritable bowel syndrome and extreme tiredness, I consulted a nutritionist who, with the help of some incredible tools, confirmed that years of yo-yo dieting had resulted in an underactive thyroid which wrecked my metabolism and promoted insulin resistance.

She set up an eating regimen which eliminated sugar, wheat and dairy. Sugar means carbohydrates, not the white stuff you sprinkle on cereal. I can eat eggs, chicken, meat, vegetables, nuts, seeds and berries. The results were amazing: within 2 weeks I was pain-free and energized. I lost 15kg over the next few months. I could climb trees, over walls, run short distances and even went horse riding in the Drakensberg. Admittedly that crocked me for a few days, but nevertheless I did it. I was now twenty years younger than my age!

But there are still many pitfalls even on a limited diet. A friend gave me a  raw foods ‘cookbook’, which I read from cover to cover and decided that green juicing was just the thing. For a month I shopped, chopped, juiced and filled my body with a supercharge of vitamins. What was never mentioned in the book was that raw cruciferous vegetables (kale, cabbage, Brussels sprouts and spinach) are the last thing you must eat if you have an underactive thyroid. They must be cooked. The result was that I completely shut down my thyroid function and I am still recovering from that. Years of eating coleslaw didn’t help either.

There is also a group of vegetables called nightshades which ferment inside me and create nothing but acidity which is what disease thrives on. An alkaline body is required for optimum health. The nightshades are: potatoes, tomatoes, aubergines and red peppers. Can you imagine how many of those I have eaten in my life? I have proved that these three food groups are a disaster for me, and I know that when I deviate the pains and tiredness return. It’s hard to swim against the stream, but the choice is mine and I have to take that direction.

There is a growing call to eliminate sugar, wheat and dairy from our diets as our intolerance for these ingredients becomes evident. But our culture and especially big business is so invested in these products that anyone who promotes this point of view is labeled a crank, weirdo or even worse, a conspiracy theorist! Now there’s nothing I like more than a conspiracy theory. It makes you think and question what we have been taught. Imagine if no one ate sugar, wheat and dairy anymore! There would be no high tea at the Mount Nelson, no Charly’s Bakery, no bun for your burger. Pizza would be a thing of the past. Celebrity chefs would be scrambling to rewrite their recipe books; we wouldn’t have cappuccino and cheesecake with the girls; no hot chocolate on a cold winter’s night.

You can see how difficult it’s going to be to change the world, can’t you?

What would be the result if everyone gave up these foods? Improved health, less need for medication, weight loss, increased energy, lack of pain.

You only have one body for this life. You can make it a prison or a temple. The choice is yours.

Just saying again...

I am always amazed, amused, bemused and confused by those who do not subscribe to thinking.

Amazed, because these people usually come from the scientific world, where nothing exists if you can’t prove it or see it, yet apparently everything that they believe in is being disproven daily as technology enables us to discover things in a new way and debunk the old beliefs. Debunk. An interesting word. To expose the falseness of a myth or belief, to ridicule. Some people make it their business to debunk everything they don’t agree with. Yet how can you disprove the existence of something you cannot prove exists. Surely it just means that you haven’t yet acquired the necessary skills to observe it? In a world where Man’s ability to see is limited to a very tiny part of the electromagnetic spectrum, can it ever be said that we have seen all there is to see? Does this not mean that everything else that exists, exists in a format we are unable to see? Most scientific observations remain just that – an observation that because such and such happened, so and so must have been there. Proved by supposition?

Amused, because people have obtained Master’s Degrees and Doctorates based on scientific beliefs that have subsequently been proved false. Do these Degrees get revoked or do you remain a Doctor of Oops, I Was Wrong?

Bemused, because they all believe they are right and there is absolutely no room for anyone else’s opinion. End of conversation.

Confused, because thinkers are open-minded and allow others to have their own beliefs without trying to make them wrong. Because thinkers take joy in believing that any and all things are possible in this universe of which we are an integral part, with our own purpose in the whole and not as separate beings. Because thinkers find no pleasure in the ridicule of others’ beliefs and feel no need to be the judge of true or false.

It is because of fear of ridicule or appearing less ‘normal’ than the rest of society that most of those who have direct knowledge and connection with the realm of the afterlife keep their knowledge to themselves. Many of them are highly respected in their societies; you can be sure that if they made known their experiences, that respect would disappear into the very ether from which we all come. It is only once ego can be separated from who we really are that the truth will be made known. For those who do not wish to know, it will not matter. Nothing can change what is.

Kitties climbing all over!

When Mango Kitty and Mr Bigglesworth are charging around the house, tumbling and grappling, doing those funny arch-backed, sideways jumps that kitties do, and then suddenly shooting off at a 90 degree angle, the phrase "more fun than a barrel of monkeys" springs to mind. I would have thought there would be a similar phrase for kittens, but I have yet to hear it. So for now monkeys will have to do.

They have discovered the curtains. This no doubt is to give my legs a respite. One jumps onto the windowsill, and then the other runs up the curtain to catch him. I can say it's been an unmitigated disaster for my curtains, which are at a very fragile stage of their existence, having spent nearly twenty years in the sun. I'm hoping this playing stage will pass, as none of our previous four cats ever ran up a curtain, or my leg that I can recall. So far I have managed to rearrange the ample pleating (these were not cheap, ready-made curtains!) and hidden the little claw holes from view, but it only needs a little extra weight and enthusiasm for the curtain to rip from top to bottom with a kitty sliding down. Shades of Harpo in A Night at the Opera!

The house has always accommodated animals before people, strangely enough. Perhaps I am just too easygoing and could never smack an animal, but they have had free rein here for 30 years. The leather couch has seen better days, but because it too was a top of the range item in its day, bought because it was so comfortable to lie on when watching TV, some colourful throws and scatter cushions have rejuvenated it. Of course they slide off as the kitties leap from couch to couch but hey, it's good exercise tucking all those bits in!

Here we have them on either side of a window, trying to touch each other! What wonderful toys they make!