Good to see you again!

It was a real treat to welcome old friends to my home this afternoon - a rare occurrence as I usually socialise away from home, as seems to be the norm for a lot of people these days - eating out at lunchtime has taken the place of evening dinners as I prefer not to be out on the road at night. Hans and Ellen were effectively my son's second parents in that he spent a lot of time at their beautiful thatched home in Noordhoek during his school years as their son's friend, and many hours were spent in convivial conversation when dropping off and picking up. Robert had his first taste of international travel while still at school when he accompanied them on a trip home to the Netherlands and again in later years, when he stopped over to visit on another trip. I believe the opportunity to travel as a 'local' rather than a tourist was an invaluable life experience for him.

The prospect of going off to the Netherlands, or any other country for that matter, for a quick visit to see friends or family is always an exciting one, tempered by the incredible inconvenience of having to apply and pay an exorbitant amount for a visa, simply because a South African passport now carries a stigma due to the extent to which criminals have easy access to them. Not least because we can trace our lineage back to the 11th century in England on one side of the family and Catherine the Great on the other, so if anyone should be able to travel freely in the lands where all our relatives are buried, it is us. Of course, being pals with Jan van Riebeeck possibly doesn't help our cause.
So in the meantime we will just happily look forward to visits from friends and family here in South Africa until we lose our pariah status - it must surely happen eventually??. After all, it still remains one of the most desirable places to live in the world, we are told. We can accept that.

Best part of the day

We have hurtled through the second month of 2015 without a blink. Tomorrow is 1 March and heralds the dying days of summer, with the equinox of 20 March being the official start of autumn. Already the sun is only rising at 6.35 and it's not such fun to get up at 5.45 to take the dogs outside. Susie, being blind, cannot negotiate the stairs any more, so guess who has the job of taking her out into the garden come rain or shine! This morning was a particularly beautiful one, with not a soul stirring except the rooster, warm air unstirred by a breeze and the pink and purple glow above the mountain as the sun began to peek over the far, unseen horizon.
I stood barefoot on the warm bricks, taking deep breaths of the clean, unpolluted air - the most precious commodity of this planet (as they say, try holding your breath while you count your money!) and reflected on how we usually miss the best part of every day, the dawn. This is when the birds start their early morning chorus - not quite the dawn chorus of the English countryside, but a lone robin trills in the shrubbery and the ever-cheerful sunbird (a survivor if ever there was one) chatters outside my window). I opened the blinds and startled a bou-bou shrike sitting on top of the bougainvillea - we were practically eyeball to eyeball. This large and attractive bird is not at all frightened of us and often hops happily nearby, calling its mate which is never too far away in their practised duet.
Soon the southeaster will pick up and the stillness of the morning will be gone as people get up and go about their business. But I've seen the best of the day already, and I'm glad I didn't miss it.

A talent for rearrangement

The home makeover continues apace! Books have gone to TEARS charity shop, curtains and blinds have followed close behind and some suits and jackets (barely worn in 25 years or more and still in their protective covers) are set for the second-hand clothing shop. I have dispensed with a cupboard that was stuffed full for years by relocating or tossing the goods stored, from a tennis racquet I used at school (now an antique) to 150 empty CD boxes. With his amazing spatial arrangement abilities, my son has rearranged furniture, rehung every picture in the house (we now have a painting in the toilet) and created a whole new interior feel - change is always good, is his motto.
Even though the project is only halfway through, the space and light makes such a difference, and he is moving towards my end of the house with a ruthless determination to rid me of everything I have stored and clung to over the years. I have to admit that I am not a sentimental person and so actually find it easy to part with something - I just need the incentive of someone who is prepared to carry the item out of the house and place it in the boot of the car for distribution to a new home.
Having seen what he can do to a space, I think it would be a travesty if he wasted his talent - the ideal business for him will be to clear and repack cupboards and rearrange interiors of homes or even offices. There is no doubt that clearing the clutter clears the mind and opens the way for new opportunities.
So if anyone out there is feeling overburdened by 'stuff', let me know!

Revivals

I’m pleased to say that my agapanthus, which were so magnificent last year and didn’t flower at all this year (in fact, the leaves all died), have made a complete recovery and new leaves are growing from the centre of the plants. So the worm story was correct after all – having eaten the base of the leaves and presumably finished its life cycle, the worm had merely pruned the plant. So we can look forward to renewed vigour and beauty next season!

As predicted, the southeaster has been pumping up the valley today, and as the sun sets, a sheet of cloud is moving up the Peninsula from Cape Point – perhaps some unforecast precipitation tonight? As indicated in yesterday’s blog, my daily weather reports will be fairly non-committal until the weather settles sometime in the future, with forecasts of light gales, sunny clouds and mildly scorching temperatures. That way, whatever happens, I should be covered but not with egg on my face!

I’ve started a new painting after some years, with all the encouragement I have had from kind friends, and hope not to disappoint either myself or you. It should be finished soon and will be put out to the jury! I have plenty of ideas and hope to get back into the swing of things. It sure beats a desk job.

Blowing hither and thither

There seems to be some confusion over the weather in Cape Town of late. Any number of permutations can be used - light to gale force winds from any direction you care to choose, zero to 100% chance of precipitation over the forecast area, with a possibility of snow on high ground despite it being February, cloudy to fine depending on how close you live to the mountains, etc.
It's a little embarrassing to put out my daily weather with pictures of the palm trees and the back table of Table Mountain, declaring a light southeaster, when within hours the doors are slamming, curtains are being sucked out of windows and the bougainvillea is being denuded of its colourful bracts - the lawnat home and at the neighbour is covered with bright pink confetti layer!
I think in future my forecast will be restricted to the weather at the time (around sunrise) and for the rest of the day it will be anyone's guess!

Idle musings

Lying on a blanket under the sheltering canopy of fifty shades of green, I look out into the universe and it sees me. Feathery wisps of cloud traverse the blue expanse, the space between filled with avian activity. Almost too high to be seen, a lone sacred ibis whirls on an ever-upward spiral as it rides the thermals. A butterfly flutters closer to earth, thinking of nothing as it flits, only to be snatched up by a passing bird, too fleeting for identification.
Swallows wheel overhead, their curious flight a mixture of intense flapping and freewheeling, feasting on a scourge of mosquitoes to which there seems no end, and swifts swoop above them to catch the high flyers.
A raptor crosses my line of vision, wings tucked at its side, homing in on some hapless, unseen prey.
In the leaves of the shading tree, milkwood flies and bees buzz about their business, pollinating in their different ways.
I continue to lie on the blanket, flattened against the earth by gravity, spinning with the third rock from the sun on its endless journey through space, and think awhile about this gravity. All of these things are using energy to lift themselves away from the earth's surface and against the force of gravity. Their mass dictates how much energy they must use to lessen the force of gravity. So if there had been any miscalculation in the mass of humans and everything else on this planet, we would have all floated off right at the beginning.
I continue to lie on the blanket...

Watching birds

Sometimes I am lucky enough to take pictures with more than one species of bird in the frame. The gum tree provides the ideal roosting site with so many dead branches. The smaller species of sparrowhawk pose no danger to the pigeons and large doves, but once the dove became aware of what was sitting next to it, it took the gap!

Meanwhile, down at the rocks, the swift terns are still breeding and there was much activity! Four oystercatchers (one a juvenile) pecked unconcernedly along the shore, while a sacred ibis, little egret and a pair of cormorants caught fish and other delicacies nearby.

There's never a dull moment in a birdwatcher's life!

Melancholic mood

I'm feeling a little melancholic at present and it's not something I am used to. It's a kind of sadness for the state of the world and how far we are from what the purpose of life is, which is to experience joy in our existence, fulfilment in what we do, kindness towards the brotherhood of man and caring for the only planet we are ever going to live on.
We are constantly bombarded with bad news from the mainstream media, all of it pertaining to the desire of some section of the population wanting to have more than another, be it money, land, oil, gold, personal power or simply to destroy through a learned belief in our separation. Too many people live lesser lives, subject to the will of others and unable to implement their own free will, simply because of what society and cultures have imposed on them.
We (the entire human population) complain about everything, from the drivers on the road, to the governments we have foolishly given power over our lives, from those who kill animals for sport or money, to those who play loud music in residential areas. From the petty to the outrageously evil. It is as if a cloud of gloom has surrounded this beautiful planet that a minority of its inhabitants is desperate to control.
We have to constantly remind ourselves that our free will reigns supreme and nobody can take that away without our permission. Life is about choice and responsibility. We can choose how we want to live and we must take responsibility for it. Nothing about this is easy, but it's a good place to start.
Spend time in silence and in nature - it will restore your soul.
Practice kindness towards others - it will restore theirs.
Educate to elevate, not dominate.
Encourage people to think for themselves.
Expect the best of yourself and others.
Rely on your inner voice.
Have a wonderful day!

Feeling oppressively hot - sweltering

At last! A February day - sweltering heat, no wind, cloudless blue skies from horizon to horizon, glassy seas and complete lethargy in the housework department. This is the first day in weeks that it has been true summer and already I have had enough - looking forward to a much cooler day tomorrow!
I had to water the garden twice today and also filled up the porcupine's water bowl - I don't want to court disaster by not providing refreshment for my night raider. He is not beyond digging under the fence just to bite through the irrigation pipes as he did a few summers back.
Despite threatening to pick up the paint brushes today, the heat in my 'studio' (a space on the enclosed balcony) was just too intense and opening all the big sliding windows would have just let in more hot air. The inside temperature at 5.30 was 32 degrees, so no wonder it was takeaway ribs for dinner. I decided against a Thai pork curry.
The small birds have returned to the garden after a short absence and the trees were filled with grey-headed sparrows, robins, a bou-bou shrike, prinias and Cape white eyes - the sparrows in particular enjoyed a good bath in the fountain, and as usual I was holding the end of a hose and couldn't take a picture in time before they flew back into the safety of the branches.
Swallows have been feasting on the myriad bugs bothering us at the moment and can be seen swooping swiftly on high as they fill up for the long flight back to Europe in a few short weeks. The telephone wires (such as remain now that underground cables are favoured) are jam-packed with these pretty birds who seem to enjoy the flocking life. One would imagine them building condominiums of mud to enable them to live communally like weavers, but it seems socialising is for the daylight hours and they prefer to nest alone.
The end of the week is set to bring some rain, and as always, it is the variety of weather that keeps Cape Town top of my list of places to live.

Time for another Art Attack

Having such fun posting pictures of my paintings from the last 10 years - a good friend who is a very talented artist, mainly in wood sculpture, nominated me to post 3 paintings every day for 5 days as a way of putting more art on Facebook. There is a plethora of doom and gloom and just as much in the way of cute kitties, so a bit of escapism through art seems like a fine idea.
Scrolling through my sometimes very poor photographs of my work (I never expected to have them on social media - it didn't really exist when I started painting - and so just took snaps) has brought back some inspiration to pick up the palette knife again, with a determination to do even better than before. I think my Muse has returned after an absence of some years. Of course, this relates more to literature than to painting, but I am seeing further chapters of my novel developing like a movie in my head, so there is hope for me in more than one area!
After a few false restarts over the last few years, I think I am ready to not let myself down, and also have progressed sufficiently to accept disappointment without resentment. Plenty of lessons learned there.
So thank you, Mary-Anne, for kicking my butt in the nicest possible way, and making me believe the dream again.

My version of John Singer Sargeant's 'Oyster Gatherers' - it is said that one should do 100 copies of masterpieces to learn about painting.

Summer days of yore

The southeaster is back with a vengeance, whipping the sea offshore towards South America, white horses all the way! With so much spray, it's easy to imagine a whale blowing or even a whole school of dolphins frolicking by, but when I grab the binoculars for a closer look, it's just the crests of the swells! What a disappointment.
False Bay has had so many dolphins and orcas of late that it is becoming almost better known for them than for the aerial displays of the great white sharks. Unfortunately I am seldom over on that side of the Peninsula and have never yet seen a live dolphin. Ah well, you can't have it all!

The southeast cloud bank is racing up the Fish Hoek valley, cloaking Clovelly mountain in an unpleasant dampness for those out walking, but gratefully soaked up by the abundant indigenous flora to be found across the Table Mountain chain - proteas, pincushions, leucadendrons, ericas, mountain dahlia, chasmanthe and the soft, sweet-smelling confetti bush. The mere scent of this brings back childhood memories of days spent scrambling over rocks and through dense thickets up on the mountain behind the family home, the playground of our youth. Of little picnics up on the 'Flat Piece' at the top of the garden overlooking False Bay and the far Atlantic on the other side of the Peninsula, then running headlong down the mountain back home, shouting "Cobra!" or "Puffadder!" depending on what we had just seen. I don't think we ever felt any real fear, just excitement as only kids can experience it.
Good times.

A Valentine's Day sonnet for Mom and Dad

Valentine's Day. A day when romantic love is celebrated in the western world. Or alternatively, a commercial opportunity to capitalise on emotions through the giving of soppy cards and overpriced roses. Whichever way you look at it, any celebration of love is a good thing, although, as Father says, every day is Valentine's Day.
He should know. It is my mother's birthday, and today she is 85. Next week they will have been married for 63 years and I think we are still waiting for the first fight. If there have been any, they have certainly been successfully hidden from us!

The sonnets of Shakespeare spring first to mind when thoughts turn to romantic notions and possibly one of the best known is number 116 from the quill of this prolific literary genius. To put you out of your misery as you wrack your brains to remember these few lines, which, when we were at school, doubtless seemed incomprehensible and archaic, I quote it hereunder. You will notice that today's English has become boring and dumbed down to a primary school level in comparison with the descriptive language of the 1600s. Sad times!

Anyway, this one is for Mom and Dad!

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.

Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle’s compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

 If this be error, and upon me proved,

 I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

A tree story

The rooster next door crows at 5.40. My alarm is due to go off at 6. How can I co-ordinate these two? The only sensible way is to reset the alarm, but my preference is to sew a little nightcap for this bird similar to the hood they put on falcons and let it think the sun isn't coming up! Speaking of which, the sun now only rises after six and we actually have to put a light on - signs of autumn approaching. We have not had a particularly hot summer and I don't think many of us are ready for shorter days yet, but the lack of wind is such a pleasure.
Yesterday we (I held the ladder) cut down a large section of the Brazilian pepper tree that grows right next to the boundary wall. These trees, which can be attractive in the centre of a large field or perhaps in a rainforest, have an incredible aptitude for survival. Their roots are invasive and travel far - you will notice how far when a new tree starts to grow from the root in the centre of your lawn. Every time you trim a branch off, 6 or 10 new ones will shoot out and head straight up for the sunlight through the canopy of the tree. This makes for dense foliage at the top and thick, intertwined trunks all the way up. If we had known then what we know now about the tree's survival instincts, I doubt whether we would ever have trimmed it.
There is no doubt that this is not a species for a suburban garden. When I planted this tree, it never occurred to me that it would ever grow so big, as nothing else I've ever planted has flourished like this one.

The poor neighbours live practically in darkness because of this tree in front of their windows, and their lights are on constantly. The fact that they have never asked us to cut it down is a great pity, as I would like nothing more than to be rid of it, but HWCFA has a mania for letting trees live and hates it when I trim. We have a myrtle hedge at the front of the house that is the bane of my life - over the years it has become like a little forest, home to many birds and probably the odd snake or three, and it certainly is a fantastic windbreak providing relief from the southeaster.
I frequently tell him that, on the day he dies, I'll be calling tree fellers to remove it all!

A little twitter

We are having an unusually temperate February this year. At least that is from my point of view, possibly because I live right next to the sea in a little village that is cooled by onshore breezes off the icy Atlantic Ocean. The prevailing summer wind, the dreaded southeaster, which warms up as it crosses the Peninsula before it reaches us has been remarkably absent, providing Cape Town with some of the best summer days imaginable to show herself off to the visitors from wintry Europe. We always like to put our best face forward, don't we?
The absence of the dessicating wind and odd days with rain have meant I can skip a day or two of watering without the garden going into a decline. There has been a slight improvement in bird sightings, but the continual presence of the red-breasted sparrowhawk seems to be making the little ones nervous, although the pigeons treat it with disdain, being of a similar size. The sunbirds and Cape white eyes are still absent and do not even come to play in the spray from the hose as they have always done without fail. Mango and Biggles must really have instilled fear into these cheerful little birds who were feasting themselves on the coprosma berries only a few short weeks ago.
And as I write this, the tiny double-collared sunbird (I suspect it is the one I have rescued a few times) appears on the branch! What a treat!

Still looking up!

I have always been partial to spending long periods staring out of the window to see what's happening outside, or lying on the bricks (lawn is too damp) looking upwards and out into the universe. There is always some kind of activity, some zipping by so fast I can't identify it and others drifting by over a period of minutes or hours.
Daylight hours are obviously suited to the observation of birds, planes, clouds, hang gliders and, on one occasion, what I consider will be the only sighting in my lifetime of a weather balloon!
At night, particularly now that Eskom is obliging us with late evening load shedding in Kommetjie, there is ample opportunity to spend a few hours out on the deck, looking for galaxies, satellites, the International Space Station, UFOs and of course millions of stars! I can quite safely say that I haven't quite covered them all yet, and not least because my 8-inch mirror belonging to my telescope went off with the scientists to Sutherland for re-aluminising and, due to some technical problems, needs to go back again, so I haven't bothered to replace it in the telescope. I am therefore restricted to binoculars, which are fine for the closer stars but not great for planets and definitely hopeless for galaxies.
Whatever the time of day and whatever the weather, I would like to encourage you all to take an interest in looking up - there are so many interesting natural phenomena for our observing pleasure.

Hoopoe sits in the old gum tree

I was quite excited yesterday when my son called me outside to point out a bird 'with an orange mohican' and there in the gum tree was a beautiful hoopoe. These boldy coloured, rather comical little birds are near the top my list of favourites, and I haven't seen one here in at least 25 years. He preened for a while, displaying his crest from time to time (it is usually flat unless alarmed or alert) and lovely wing markings of dark grey and white, before swooping off over the trees in their distinctive 'butterfly' flight. I hope he will be back with some friends.
Another reason for being excited was that my son had recognised it as a species he had never seen here before, so I have every confidence in his powers of observation.
Something somewhat less exciting is the news that a couple of kids from out of town have been throwing stones at the flamingos currently visiting us in Kommetjie, while the mother sits on the lawn without reprimanding them in any way. The disturbed birds obviously took flight and we were deprived of the pleasure of their company today. A neighbour informed me that on Friday there were also youngsters chasing and throwing stones at the flamingos and also hadedahs. It appears that their only source of entertainment is to hurt and destroy, and the parents are of the same ilk. So much for telling us the children are our future - if these are an example of what we have to look forward to, I can only confirm the majority feeling of 'don't spare the rod'!
We are constantly exhorted to not let the actions of others disturb our inner peace, but the only way that can be achieved in today's world seems to be not to come into contact with anyone - the monks who live in the mountains of Tibet certainly have taken the easy route. I would imagine their inner peace would be seriously disturbed by these kids!

Some gardens pics

Really enjoying my bromeliads at the moment - I have about 5 or 6 varieties, some of which have rarely flowered, so it's always exciting when a bud peeks out from the middle of these viciously barbed yet attractive leaves. I pick the snails off by hand, and the resultant lacerations make my arms look as though I have put them through a thorn bush. It can be very painful and itchy for someone with very sensitive skin, i.e. me! There are 2 877 varieties of this plant, and I am always on the lookout for new ones, but have not yet had much success.

A life on the ocean wave - Part 4

We continued our corkscrewing up the coast, past the magnificent splendour of South Africa's Wild Coast, with rivers spilling into the sea from the highlands of Lesotho through narrow headlands and sheer rock faces, interspersed with long stretches of pristine beaches. The continuous cloud cover made for mysterious landscapes of varied hues of grey and occasional flooding of sunlight through patches of cloud.

We passed uneventfully through the area where the Waratah disappeared inexplicably so long ago - I always said I would never sail along the southern coast of South Africa for this very reason, yet here I was - and the long swells were now coming at a slight angle from behind, reducing the dipping motion. 

It was only on our fourth day that blue skies favoured us, and suddenly it was like the brochures said it would be - everyone out on deck, lazing on the loungers, taking a brisk march around the open upper deck (the only place where you really experienced the 'ship' atmosphere) and generally relaxing as one should on such a cruise.

The wind remained strong, as you can see from the photo, and once the sun had disappeared behind the clouds, it wasn't long before everyone retired to the comfort of the many lounges and partook of further refreshments, which forms a large part of the day on a cruise ship!

Sadly, our trip was over too soon, and plans are afoot for a much longer one in the future.

Keeping us in the dark as usual

These blackouts (PC term is 'load-shedding', I ask you with tears in my eyes) do have some advantages. You can get on with things that don't require electricity (if during daylight hours) - watering the garden and enjoying the flowers and birds, taking a walk, sorting out cupboards, washing windows, playing Scrabble or Uno and drinking tea or coffee from a flask.
No background TV, computers or internet for those of us with landline-based access, so no need to check for messages - if the phone rings, it's for you. Very pleasant to be without technology for short periods.
Night-time takes a little more organisation, but once your candles and paraffin lamps are in place with lots of boxes of matches everywhere, you are set to go, and although reading is not an option, great family bonding can take place with the aforementioned games. Alternatively, star gazing conditions are as close to perfect as they can get provided there is no cloud cover, and it is always beneficial for the soul to look upwards and out into the universe in quiet contemplation.
Although we have schedules with the times applicable to various stages of stress, this seems to be something that our power 'supplier' can't stick to in advance. Facebook and social media are humming with warnings that are sometimes not applicable, causing howls of dismay and much cursing, only for it all to come to naught when the grid recovers.
I think that here in the Deep South we get off a bit more lightly than the rest of the Peninsula, as our times are generally early morning or late at night and sometimes the lights stay on. On the other hand, our infrastructure is pretty old and we have more than enough emergency repairs to provide impromptu load-shedding anyway.
The answer, as any good Boy Scout or Girl Guide will know, is to Be Prepared. Oh, and keep a torch handy.

Browsing Kalk Bay

Enjoying the cooler weather here in Cape Town. The westerly wind means there is a cool drift off the sea, but the sun is still hot, so ideal temperatures for whatever activity is required. I took a trip to Kalk Bay yesterday to browse the antiquities and collectables with my son. I would never do this on a weekend as I am really not a crowd person, but yesterday was perfect and even a parking space appeared in a convenient situation.
The first shop we visited was the one with the old books and I must say the interior smell was redolent of musty old houses that had been home to many animals. We didn't linger.
The shop with tea sets, old jewellery and clothing, glassware and ornaments was more interesting, and it was a pleasant way to spend an hour, but a serious collector of anything in this line would have to know an awful lot and have a whole day free to give the place a thorough going-over. I am at the stage of my life where I am trying to divest myself of 'stuff' and the only thing I could weaken for would be a particularly beautiful bowl that I could actually use, but as for the rest, it was like browsing my mother's cupboards, and in some instances, my own!
Over the road at the old post office, I was astounded to see that similar things to what I had taken to the dump last week were actually for sale - decorative tins, old and battered kitchen utensils and other bric-a-brac I would never have imagined anyone being cheeky enough to try and sell. It seems as though I am living in a treasure trove and so the clearing out has been halted for the moment. We are rather going to rent a table at a flea market - I reckon we have enough stuff to retire on!
Our afternoon was rounded off with a visit to the harbour and a piece of fish for me and fish, calamari and chips for my son. It was fresh and delicious and the blue-and-white painted tables and benches overlooking the harbour added a Mediterranean feel to the experience.
Kalk Bay is always well worth a visit. There is something for every taste, and the variety of excellent eateries, from extravagant to affordable, ensures that no one need go home hungry. Just stay away on summer weekends.

Cooling down

A gentle rain fell overnight, bringing welcome relief to the lawn, which much prefers natural precipitation. The wellpoint is still providing us with adequate water to keep roughly 800sq m of garden in good shape, but somehow the rain gives an extra boost. One of my proteas has decided to die on me - these plants are terribly temperamental and I think this one didn't like the guinea fowl scratching around its roots every day when it came for a sand bath.
There have been fewer guinea fowl around over the last few years, mainly due to the predation of crows. I have had three as regular visitors for the last year, but suddenly the flock has grown to thirteen with three teenagers - perhaps they have decided that there is safety in numbers. When we first moved to Kommetjie, flocks of around forty dashed about manically all over the village, but no more. They are very amusing and pretty to watch, but can be so destructive in the garden. They scratch out seedlings, kill sensitive proteas(!) and peck away at the vegetables. And as for the cackling noise they make when they roost! I think their only rivals for decibels are the hadedahs.
There seems to be a lull in birdlife this week. Either the cats have chased them away, or the feeding frenzy of summer has come to an end, but the Cape white eyes, sunbirds and little flock of grey-headed sparrows have been missing for the last few days. Even the fiscal flycatcher that I photograph nearly every day in the gum tree has gone. I hope this is temporary, as the garden has become very quiet without their activity among the shrubbery.
The sun is still in bed when I get up now, and autumn is on its way, but we will still be caught out by some scorchers before summer is finally gone. In the meantime, we are grateful for nature's ever-changing face, which makes every day a fresh start.

Procrastination and vacillation

A sweltering summer's day has passed by unnoticed by me, as the call of piles of papers in my office could no longer go unheeded. I doubt whether I have put in a day of 'real work' since the middle of December, and I don't care a jot! I have had my well-deserved rest after a hard year's slog, the cherry being last week's cruise up the coast, and the sun has still come up every morning. Today's heat actually helped ease me into my position in front of the computer, as an occasional drift of sea air came through the open window to cool my fevered brow - it's unbelievable how much heat is generated by computers!
I have a very full programme this week, not least of which is a speech at Toastmasters. I have already put it off twice due to pressure of work and cannot do it again - that would be admitting defeat. The problem is I haven't quite settled on the topic. I have begun three different outlines and can't take to any of them. I even got up at 2am to write it, thinking that I had nailed the subject, but this morning I changed my mind again. Perhaps the topic should be procrastination and vacillation - I have an intimate knowledge of these wayward habits.
In addition, the astronomy club newsletter needs to be sent out, with 40 new members' email addresses to be uploaded, and minutes of meetings await my ministrations.
Later this week I will be doing editing for three solid days. It doesn't look as though there is going to much of a gap for socialising - perhaps I am going to suffer the consequences of a six-week loaf after all!

A life on the ocean wave - Part 3

Day 3 saw us still corkscrewing our way up the coast, with some relief as we entered the small port of Port Elizabeth. We berthed smoothly alongside, thanks to the amazing bow-thrusters which enable the ship to 'park' sideways - no tugs are required for these modern vessels. A dinky cruise liner of about a quarter the size of the MSC Opera was already in port, her passengers standing at the railings on the balconies outside the cabins, waving a welcome to what must have seemed a behemoth of the seas, although in reality it is not a particularly large cruise liner. This particular vessel takes its passengers around the world, with on-board lectures and visits to historical sites - a more leisurely and culture-based cruise, like a conference at sea. But I digress...

There are many options for shore visits, including a trip to Addo Elephant Park for game viewing, but we had other fish to fry! As you can see from the photo, a grey and drizzly day greeted us, but within an hour it had cleared to a grey day and we set off in a mini-bus (not a taxi!) for lunch at a restaurant that has a reputation for sushi and Eastern cuisine that required testing. Fushin (Stanley on Bain, Richmond Hill) did not disappoint. Step aside, all other restaurants in this market, for this food was sublime in presentation and heaven on the tastebuds. The dishes were served in the manner of tapas, with a selection of rainbow trout, Alaskan Snow Crab sashimi (to die for), spicy baked scallops, prawn or vegetable tempura, spicy octopus, black pepper squid and seared steak carpaccio, among others. Each portion was savoured, to the extent that fingers were used to scour the plates of the last drops of each mouthwatering sauce/dressing, washed down by sips of fine white wine. Many of the ingredients are provided by the young owner and master chef from his own farm and authenticity is his trademark. Although the prices were eye-watering, this comment is in no way intended to denigrate the experience, as this is gourmet eating at its very best and not aimed at the mass market, and so we did not begrudge the cost. No bookings are taken, and variations on the theme can be found in two other ventures of his nearby. Port Elizabethans are immensely fortunate to have such outstanding cuisine on their doorstep.

Unfortunately I was too busy falling on the food with unseemly haste to take any more photos. I can only say that if you are ever in Port Elizabeth, do not leave town without partaking of these delights!
After lunch, it was back to the ship for more rest and relaxation!