Cold nights ahead

The water situation in Cape Town remains dire, with the total storage currently at 36%. Although this increased from 29% with fair rainfall over the last 10 days, the long-term forecast shows only 20mm in July, 10mm in August and 22mm in September. These are our wettest months and one can only hope that they are wrong. The mind boggles that they can even make such long-range predictions. It also seems to make a difference which meteorological site you visit.
Statistics indicate an average rainfall of 475mm per annum so we are going to fall far short of requirements. It looks as though showering with a friend, communal bathing or a dip in the chilly waters of the bay will become our future. Bleak indeed for someone who shudders at the thought of a jacuzzi!
Right now we are awaiting landfall of a severe cold front (8mm) to be followed by Antarctic air, giving us a high of 14 degrees for a week! Let's hope the rainfall is heaviest in the catchment areas and that lots of snow will fall to boost our dams!
Spare a thought for those less fortunate. Those fleecy ponchos currently in Pick n Pay are the warmest item I have ever worn and would make an ideal gift this winter.

Nature's sculptures

A passing cold front brought more welcome rain, cleansing the Cape of dulling dust and bathing it in sparkling sunshine between showers. Rainbows proliferated, and birds filled the branches as they sipped on raindrops captured by the leaves.
My front garden is at its best now that the aloes are blooming - the variety of shapes and colours a source of endless pleasure. Although some are initially expensive to acquire, the ease of propagation and self-sufficiency make aloes very rewarding garden features, particularly the larger varieties that are sculptures of nature and provide interest for the eye throughout the year, as well as being effective natural barriers.

As relevant today as a year ago

This blog was written on this day exactly a year ago. It is even more relevant today, and shows how little progress has been made in persuading the world to think for itself. Fear is still the order of the day, until we decide to give it up.

26.6.15
Amidst the doom and gloom that currently prevails in the world, with the common man having given up the power to decide for himself to a handful of people who are, almost without exception globally, morally and ethically unfit to wield any form of power (not to mention that they are all in truth public servants and should be doing it for free), we should not forget that the majority of the populace remain peace-loving, caring and empathic people, with the capacity to take back the power and redistribute it in a new way between members of communities, for the communities, if they will just dare to think for themselves.
Those who currently run our world rely on fear to divide and rule. If everyone changed their thoughts and saw the world through eyes of love (a much-misused and misinterpreted word), the power (another much-misused and misinterpreted word) would return to the people. The power to become a better example of humanity, not the power to subjugate and destroy.
Think on these things.

Constant companions

There's a great deal to be said for the loving companionship of a dog. I've always been a cat person, preferring their aloofness of character and total independence, but seventeen years ago we found our little Monty, the runt of the litter, and can say that he turned out to be the best and the longest living. This is due to a great extent to HWCFA's undying devotion to Monty and I have no doubt that it is difficult for him to watch his rapid decline into old age. This is possibly why he is leaving the caretaking to me, as he prepares himself for not having his companion. We got little Susie when Monty was 3 as a pal and they got along well enough, but Susie has been blind for a while and can't rough and tumble like she used to, so life is quiet for the two of them. Yet they are always close by me, and as I move around the house or garden, deaf Monty in particular is my shadow.

Enter young Cleo! Chaos reigned for some months as she mercilessly tormented the old dogs, not understanding their disabilities. As she has matured, she has stopped snapping at their heels and biting at their ears and has settled into her correct role of devoted companion to me. Those big brown eyes look at me as if to say thank you for rescuing me and letting me live a pampered life of warmth, security and a full tummy - all I ask is that you throw the ball for hours, let me chase the cats and take me on exciting walks down at the rocks and I will give you a lifetime of devoted companionship. Oh, and I'll also be the prettiest little dog in the world!

Giving and receiving

A really fun morning at the Sunflower Fund winter fundraiser! Every aspect was outstanding - the venue, the food, the MCs, the entertainment and the prizes! It was great to meet up with new friends again, but the best part was finding two dear friends from the past and just carrying on the conversation as the intervening years fell away. How special are those moments!
These charity functions are a great way of helping raise funds for extremely worthy causes and the networking can lead to many surprising opportunities in life in an environment where like-minded people meet, even if it is only to be elevated to a greater level of compassion through association with those who steer these vital organisations.
I think the greatest gift is to be able to sing, and the smooth voice of Monique Cassells was an absolute delight. Jenny Morris, a long-time supporter of the Sunflower Fund, kept things light and lively, assisted by Dr Darren Green. He treated us to a marvellous rendition of a favourite, Nessun Dorma, and joining in the chorus was the cherry on the top of a delightful day! And the large voucher for a posh restaurant didn't go amiss!

Owling at the moon

The boats started roaring past the lighthouse well before dawn, taking advantage of the perfect, mirror-smooth sea to do whatever it is they are doing out there - fishing, crayfishing, who knows? The dawn was slightly warmer than yesterday's 8 degrees, and the hooting of an owl on a nearby roof had me rushing outside to see it. It was perfectly silhouetted against the lightening indigo sky and a planet was just above its head. Of course, the photo is useless, but I will put it in anyway!

A waning moon setting in the West reflected the sunlight brightly and I wondered if the owl had been hunting in the moonlight - with a soft whoo-hoo it swooped down from its perch and passed overhead with huge wings making no sound. Always a special moment.
A walk along the path showed just how flat the sea was, with a dinghy having come into the bay for some hand lining and the clouds made a really pretty reflection. Ten minutes later the scene had changed completely, with a fair breeze ruffling the bay and a choppy surface as far as the horizon. Never underestimate the constantly changing sea!

The food dilemma

Ýesterday was a food-filled day. There was just no getting away from it. I started off with my normal breakfast of Greek yoghurt laced with turmeric and black pepper, followed by two eggs. This sees me through to lunch time, and I  was going to meet my dad at the Foodbarn, home of Franck Dangereux, for lunch, despite the fact that I had a Toastmasters' dinner in the evening. Imagine my dismay when, following some infrequent purchases at the local mall pharmacy, I was told that I qualified for a free breakfast at an adjacent cafe. Oh, I  couldn't possibly, I said. I'm on my way to lunch. What about another day. No, only today. Another cause for dismay was thst one of the criteria for qualification was being a senior citizen! I fixed the cashier with a beady eye and enquired how she knew I was a senior citizen, and she very deftly sidestepped that one. We had a good laugh, but she confirmed that I could give the slip to someone else who could produce it at the restaurant. Well, I  trawled that mall and couldn't find any matches for old, looking in need of breakfast, or decrepit enough to have been shopping at the pharmacy. I did try to give it away to an old lady that I did know, but she brushed it aside and that was that.
Lunch was sublime as always. The Foodbarn never disappoints, and although I had a risotto and, oops, hot choc brownie, rather than the tasting menu chosen by the rest of the family, I could see trouble coming at dinner.
Indian food is always irresistible for me, but I restrained myself as best I could and was very controlled by my standards. The entire Toastmasters event was, as expected, professional, entertaining and inspiring.
Surprisingly, I slept well despite my vast intake.
On the other side of the coin, there are those who can only dream of getting a scrap of food sometimes, and these excessive indulgences make me feel that a concerted effort should be made to steer food away from its current status of a form of entertainment for the privileged and spend some of what we save on letting someone in need share in our good fortune. How can we turn a hungry person away without giving them a portion from our plate?

Bright sunshiny day

What a magnificent first day of winter. After some wet and freezing conditions, it was time to take Cleo on a walk for the first time in two weeks, and did she enjoy all the sniffing and picking up the post, as well as some playful interaction with other dogs we met on the way.
As expected at this time of year, the gorgeously hued aloes were in full bloom, providing a feast for the eyes and material for the camera. How can one fail to take stupendous photos with such perfectly matched colours, aesthetic arrangements and the gentle sunlight of winter? Here's a little selection for those who couldn't join me on my walk.

Birdie num nums!

Now this is the weather for me - short, sharp showers from the south west, followed by cerulean skies and warm sunshine. Everything is sparkling with diamond drops, a signal for the birds to come out of the sheltering shrubbery and celebrate!
A friend who knows how to give great gifts introduced me to the suet ball for birds and although it took a few days before they discovered it, the white eyes and starlings soon demolished them and I had to replenish the treats! Today there were so many birds twittering and squabbling over the suet ball that I think multiple feeders are needed. The starlings make the initial approach, dropping crumbs everywhere, and then the white eyes dive bomb into the fray, while a robin and boubou sneak in to hop among the crumbs on the deck and in the potplants. A weaver came to have a look, but declined to join in.

What a great opportunity for birdwatching and photography from the comfort of my balcony. Now all I have to do is work on my camera skills!

Dad

Today is celebrated as Father's Day, and as ever, it is barely observed in our family. Every day is Father's Day and we don't need to be reminded to make him feel special. There is a lot of competition regarding who is the best father in the world, and it's generally agreed that the winner is he whose children voted for him. But I can vouch that my Dad is way up there with the best of them.
He has been an excellent provider for all the needs of his family, from role model, fount of knowledge, devoted husband, disciplinarian (a flick on the ear was all that was needed to keep us in line) and adventurer to being our steadfast rock in times of adversity. Those have been few and for this we are deeply grateful to him.
Our lives have always been filled with holidays to exciting places, encouragement to be interested in the world we live in and live peacefully and non-destructively with nature. His great love is birds and he is a twitcher of note, with any road trip punctuated by frequent screeching to a halt to observe a buzzard on a telephone pole or a far off raptor circling overhead.
He keeps a record of the weather conditions, rainfall measurement and birds seen every day and this fills diaries going back 40 years or more. He has over 10000 slides, each one documented under date and description. He is the original data gatherer. Now it needs to be put into the computer to produce pie charts and bar charts and all kinds of fingertip information so that his methodical record keeping won't be in vain.
At 88 he is still going strong, keeping his mind active and his interest in everything greater than anyone else I know. It keeps him young and hopefully he will be with us for many more years to enrich our lives and continue to set an example that never wavers.

Tolerance

Be who you are and say what you feel 

Because those that mind don't matter

And those that matter don't mind

(Dr Seuss)

Not easy words to live up to in a world where intolerance of another's viewpoint is the norm. It has always been acceptable to jeer at free thinkers and alternative ideas, without the slightest regard or respect for that person's feelings or point of view, and particularly without any attempt at healthy discourse. It is considered the right thing to dismiss anything that doesn't follow the mainstream as conspiracy, hogwash, airy fairy, tinfoil hat brigade and just plain weird.
Yet these are the people who petition for the voiceless, the animals, the planet, the common good and encourage peace, hope, love and tolerance. 
It is difficult to find the right words to convey the umbrage taken at this attempt to deny someone the right to their own opinion or free will, which is the hallmark of the human species, and judge them unfit in some way.
I wonder who will have the last laugh, if there will be any laughter left in a world fast becoming humourless and judgmental.

Putting my foot down

My family have always been quite demanding of my assistance in everything domestic, and I have always willingly obliged, but today's request was beyond my limits and I put my foot down with a heavy hand. "Would you please fix the hole in my sock?"
Have they ever seen the holes in my own socks? Have they ever seen me darn my own socks? Does anyone darn a sock still? With the eternal mystery of the missing sock, what are the chances of the darned sock being left behind? It doesn't matter how attached I am to my socks,  when two toes show, the socks must go!
If you thought life was too short to stuff a mushroom, you will appreciate how low on my list clothing repairs are. I am hard pressed to sew on a button! To educate the family I googled 'how to darn a sock' to give a blow-by-blow demonstration of the equipment and skills required for the job. It was fascinating, almost fascinating enough for me to work up a little enthusiasm for the task, and I was only saved from weakening my stance on darning by not having either a darning needle or the requisite darning 'mushroom'!
It was a close call, but I stood my ground.

Back breaking day

What a day! After countless years we have at last put down a proper floor over the wooden slats of the enclosed balcony. This has achieved a number of important goals: the dust from the garage below won't blow up into the house in a southeaster, our very old dogs who sometimes don't get outside in time won't be irrigating the garage (a big bonus), and the overall look is now far more pleasing to the eye. Naturally, He Who Can Fix Anything did it himself, with me as reluctant and muttering assistant. I can tell you that having moved the substantial amount of furniture twice has left me a physical wreck, with all the good work done by the physiotherapist a thing of the past. But that was not the final straw that broke the camel's back.
We were finally eating dinner as it grew dark when my phone rang and our dog groomer asked me if Monty was at home. Of course, I said, as I looked around and realised that I couldn't see him. Well, she had found him down at the Kom where he had slipped on the rocks and fallen into the icy sea, and although he didn't have his name tag, she knew it was him and had my number in her phone. He had slipped out when the gate was opened and took the gap, proving that there is life in the old boy yet. He is 17, deaf, eyesight failing and badly arthritic, so much so that he cannot go walking anymore.
What a relief that she was in the right place at the right time. We might never have seen him again - his guardian angel definitely sent her there this evening. Thanks so much, Trijntjie! Monty is bathed, dried and snuggled up in bed. I have no d
I, on the other hand, need some serious work done on my aching back after bending over the bath! Small price to pay for Monty's comfort.

Back to reality

Straight back into the deep end after a week of utter relaxation. Dog food, cat food all gone, so had to feed them smoked salmon for breakfast. The dogs wolfed it down, the cats turned up their noses. There's a surprise. Mango and Biggles have never yet eaten anything but their cat pellets. A roast chicken on the table doesn't elicit a sniff! Something to be thankful for, I reckon.
Today the heavens opened and a river ran through the garden, taking whatever leaves and loose grass cuttings lay in its path and depositing it all in a high tide mark against the back fence. Rivulets of sand resembling dry riverbeds in a desert run from back to front, and any compost I might have added over the last fewweeks is now in the plot next door. No wonder the garden still looks like a patch of beach sand after 33 years. Perhaps I should have gone for a water feature rather than flowerbeds.
It's pitch dark and not yet 7pm. Next week is the winter solstice and I for one am really looking forward to longer days, despite the fact that winter only officially begins on the solstice and clouds may obscure the sun, it's always cheering to know we have swung back towards summer.

15 minutes of infamy

The PA system crackled and a muffled voice mumbled, "Will passenger ..... on flight ... to Cape Town please report to the boarding gate". I could only identify one word and it seemed to be Pamela, but as there was still half an hour before the flight left, I couldn't imagine why I would be called. Certainly not for an upgrade to business class on such a small plane.
After the third call, I was quite sure it was Pamela. Then I  noticed I was sitting at Gate 1, not Gate 4. Well excuse me for only knowing how to board international flights! I hurried to the gate and asked if it was me they were calling. Yes, all the other passengers had boarded so they thought they would leave early! Again, excuse me for not knowing airlines were ever early.
I strode across the apron under the watchful stare of the pilot who was only about 5 metres away and waved a silent apology.
Fortunately he laughed and waved back, relieving the cringe worthiness of tbe situation. My 15 minutes of infamy.

We flew at 16 000 feet to avoid headwinds and most of the turbulence and I was able to take some great photos of the coastline. I was particularly enchantedby the multiple circular rainbows that formed a target from the sun's reflection on the clouds below us and even more so when the plane's shadow joined it. A fascinating phenomenon!

Time and tide

Destruction by fire doesn't mean the end for the natural vegetation. Despite a fierce burn that still shows in the blackened earth, nature has bounced back with a vengeance, sprouting new leaves and spreading unhindered by overshadowing bushes, whose charred skeletons are all that remain. Elephant's ears are in bloom, bright yellow gazanias are bursting out among vast clumps of fleshy green and silver leaves. Tiny pink vygies reflect brief spells of sunshine, and other unidentified beauties are scattered across the sloping shore.

The icy air of yesterday brought down from the snowy interior gave way to a fairly mild, ideal for walking day, and a ramble from the lighthouse past a barrier of rocks was the perfect place to end off a week of relaxing, beachcombing, puzzle making and, regrettably, eating. Despite living in similar surroundings back home, I can never get too much of lighthouses, rocks, beaches and most of all, the ever-changing sea.

Dolphins greeted me on arrival and they just swam past this evening - I would like to think by way of a farewell flipper. How special they are!

Never done so much nothing

Never done so much nothing.
No cooking.
No cleaning.
No phone calls.
No TV
No shopping.
No driving.
No.worries.
No stress.

Soul-soothing sea sounds, sunrises, sunsets, strolls, seashells, silence.

High seas, no camera

Decidedly chilly today, with snowfalls right across the high ground after the first big cold front of winter, followed by icy air sweeping in from the south. An interruption to the power supply in this outpost meant a rude awakening as the generator kicked in and brief disorientation due to surprise was quickly followed by gratitude for a backup.
The bay in front of us remained smooth and unruffled by the storm that brought heavy rain and hail during the night, but on the other side of Cape St Francis it was a different story. Huge swells driven in from the south rolled steadily shoreward, breaking in perfect ranks ridden by keen surfers, and our gentle stroll the other day seemed to have been in another place, such was the change in conditions. The surf at J-Bay must be ideal for the competition - good timing.
I have to say that, for me, rough seas hold a fascination similar to staring into the flames of a campfire - the constantly changing shapes and colours a source of wonderment and visual pleasure, and today's waves would have induced me to add hundreds more photos to my already excessive collection, but no camera was to hand. Perhaps tomorrow.

Heave ho!

A day of drizzle meant no walk on the beach, so other leisure activities kicked in - started a big jigsaw puzzle (a favourite pastime since I was 2 years old) and a session on the rowing machine.  I've never been one for sport - I never even made the netball team at school - and prefer to watch the world's best from the comfort of the couch, but I am the first to acknowledge the importance of exercise.
The shortness of my stride means that I need to take twice as many steps as the person I am walking with just to keep up with them and I always find myself trailing behind - kind of defeats the purpose of a companionable stroll. I am far more comfortable paddling my own canoe, literally and figuratively, so the rowing machine was the obvious choice.
Being technologically challenged, I couldn't figure out how to set the screen for feedback on my speed, distance, calories burned (the important bit) or what I'd had for breakfast. There was no clock on the wall or scenery passing by, so I row, row, rowed my boat until I estimated I'd done a couple of turns around the bay, stowed my oars and heaved myself back onto dry land, feeling rather satisfied with the effort.
The consensus was that I had barely left the jetty, but I have the stiff muscles to prove that it couldn't possibly be true. I'm looking forward to my next trip.

Idling by

A serious workout at the physiotherapist yesterday to knock this old body back into alignment meant a good night's sleep and late rising. It is a holiday after all! Another session on Monday will apparently get all those nerves untrapped. He was aghast that I have not been for treatment considering the 'radical tension' - lol! So am I, but I do believe everything happens in its own time.
Another lovely beach walk took us to the Cape St Francis lighthouse, something that is not unusual for me as all my walks in Kommetjie end at the Slangkop lighthouse, but this only added to the enjoyment.  Exercise was followed by lunch at Le Chameleon, a fascinating daytime only eatery in Humansdorp which offers dining with collectables and quirky knick-knacks behind the same unprepossessing façade. The oxtail stew was sublime.
The Indian summer is fast drawing to a close and the warm berg wind heralding the coming cold front has given way to a cooler breeze, sending ripples across the still smooth sea. A lone skiboat is setting out from the harbour for a last fishing trip before the weather turns and its lights are still visible, so the sea has not whipped up yet.
Let's see what tomorrow brings.

Kicking my shoes off

Clear skies and a warm offshore wind made a trip to the beach idyllic. A trudge over the dunes through coastal scrub brought us onto a pristine beach stretching to the lighthouse on the right, but our purpose was shell collecting along the rocky shore. It's years since I've been beachcombing and it was good to feel the grit beneath my feet and paddle in the rock pools with the sun warm on my back.
A shore break sent rollers crashing onto the sand with the pressure of the trapped air bursting out in great plumes of spray, with accompanying thunderous roar. It's a wonder that any shells survive intact after sweeping across the rocks in the daily ebb and flow of the tide, yet handfuls of delicate beauty soon found their way into a receptacle to be taken back home and added to the collection I started as a child.
The water was a warm 18 degrees, a far cry from the 8-10 degrees of the Atlantic back home, and if I had packed a costume, I  might have persuaded myself to take a dip. Or not.

What a view!

Flew to Port Elizabeth today. So nice to fly short distance. I have had enough of long haul for a while. I was quite taken aback to find that our plane was a 50-seater, even more so by the two propellers where the jet engines should have been! We climbed the five steps from the apron into the plane and turned right. The steward seemed slightly miffed at my concern over the propellers. The usual logjam occurred while passengers fumbled their laptops into overhead lockers and it took a while to reach row 8. This might have been acceptable but for the fact that there were only 10 passengers.
The flight was, of course,  perfectly safe and extremely comfortable. I was free to engage in seat-hopping to take maximum advantage of the view as we hugged our spectacular coastline, identifying each beach and inlet from years of holidays up the Garden Route. There is something fascinating about an aerial view - the convolutions of the broad rivers winding to the sea from the hinterland, the crinkly hills and vast stretches of white sandy beach lapped by the Indian Ocean, farmhouses dotted on hilltops surrounded by squares of trees.
The small plane flew at 29 000 feet, allowing for a detailed observation, but I would have appreciated a cleaner window for clarity. Ah well, you can't have it all!

Sorting out

Today the three daughters sorted out Mother's personal items: clothes, shoes, bags, hats, the everyday accoutrements of life. Each item from her considerable collection brought visions of her wearing them, particularly her favourites, many sewn or knitted by her as an accomplished needlewoman. While some outfits belong firmly in the octogenarian category, we were all able to select suitable items that I'm sure she will be happy to see us wearing and making good use of. Unfortunately none of us claimed the hats, as none of us looked particularly fetching and I certainly have no desire to resemble the Queen.
The rest will go to those in need, who hopefully will enjoy receiving quality clothing that was worn by a woman who carried no karmic baggage and would be delighted to help those less fortunate than her. Dad will keep the hats in memoriam.

I will be walking in my mother's shoes. Big shoes to fill.

Keep her quiet, said the vet

She may be off her food for a day or so. Keep her quiet for a week. A doggie jersey will prevent her from licking the wound and chewing her stitches, said the vet.
Cleo vacuumed up her food almost within hours of the op. She licked her tummy raw overnight. The doggie jersey doesn't cover her stomach so has to be worn upside down, making us look as though we are idiots and chafing her legs.
She brings me the ball 100 times a day and wants to know why we aren't walking along the beachfront. She even tosses the ball for herself and runs like a lunatic round and round, digging holes intermittently.  Keep her quiet, said the vet.
Last night she leapt from couch to couch like a mountain goat, scattering cushions in all directions. She dragged the throws across the room. She picked up a size 10 boot and carried it downstairs to chew.
She has just had another crazy spurt of energy involving thrashing a soft toy in a vigorous display of what she would be doing in the wild - ratting and hunting, grabbing her prey in those fearsome jaws and shaking it to death. She has some formidable skills.
She hasn't popped her stitches, at least not the external ones, but it's been a close call. Keep her quiet for a week, said the vet.

Autumn Sunday

Sunday lived up to its name today, with warm, sunny weather - a typical June day in Cape Town. A little potter in the garden was the order of the day, and dead plants from the scorching summer have been replaced with something new to brighten a dull patch. I've been lucky to find a few shrubs I have been looking for over the years - the beautiful red and cream rose, Ice Cream, and the gorgeously hued apricot pink hibiscus.

An unseasonal clivia has added some life to the dense greenery in the shade, and the bougainvillea that has been in a tub for about 15 years has sprouted 'flowers' at long last.

Rejuvenation of the rest of the garden will have to wait for Spring, except for continual weeding, otherwise it will become a jungle should the promised floods of rain ever materialise. We still have a little autumn left, with winter officially beginning on 20 June, so the balmy days will continue. Winters are short and sharp here on the south-western tip of Africa and are soon forgotten as the daisies of Spring seem to open earlier each year. Confusion in nature is apparent with some white daisies already peeking out. They are in for a shock! Or maybe we are, and winter has been cancelled.

In the meantime, we will enjoy basking in the gentle sunshine on this windless day.