A new year

2018 has a good ring to it and I believe will be a great year for us all. We need only adjust our attitude to events and focus on creating a new world rather than concentrating on what is wrong with the old. Begin each day with the intention to be the best person you can be that day, and end with a brief note of what you had to be grateful for on that day. 

Believe in yourself and take no notice of what other people expect you to be. We are all sent here to fulfil our own purpose, not to be one of a crowd. Don't be afraid to stand out, to speak up for those who cannot, to extend kindness to all you meet. Turn the other cheek, for it is true that a soft answer turneth away wrath, and the strong are those who can forgive and forget.

Use the gifts you have been given for the greater good of the world. Everyone has talents; some do not believe this and so never find out what they are. If you are one of them, service to others is a talent that will lead to all sorts of good things in your life.

Enjoy the simple things - a flock of birds, the wind rustling the leaves, a stunning sunset. But party as well, as life is for living and for enjoyment - the only provisos being respect for yourself first and then for others.

Blessings and abundance to you all in the year ahead!

A closed mouth gathers no foot

The news these days is full of drought and floods, death and disaster, abuse and accidents, and warmongering by nations who should know better. The social media reflect people's opinions on all of these things, supporting and condemning, covering up and exposing, in an unstoppable avalanche of free speech which reveals both the depths and heights achievable by mankind in its assessment of the world as we have made it.
Modern technology has made all information instantly available to just about every person on the planet who owns a cellphone, with the sharing of photos with barely a minute passing between recording the image and relaying it to millions of viewers, and no possible way of preventing the misery and misfortune of others from being broadcast to the world. What happened to respect for people's privacy, for thinking before doing, for holding back before reacting, for just allowing people to be, without feeling obliged to pass judgment?
It's even worse to have to read all this vitriol in the 'comments' section attached to everything that appears in the media, social or antisocial. Nothing will ever be gained by negative outpourings. What the world really needs is upliftment and support for victims of circumstances which are not always within their control. Those who stand up in defence of both sides and call for empathy and understanding for those involved are ridiculed, with snide remarks being posted to draw attention to their naivety.
One can only feel sad for those whose only way of communicating is through denigration and the limited vocabulary of the gutter. They are the ones in greatest need of non-judgment.
We could do worse than follow the old adage: If you have nothing good to say, say nothing. 

Memories

It's Christmas Eve again. A date that comes around religiously every year. But this year is different. No Dad or Mom to head the family gathering, to sing again in the church choir. No Christmas mince pies made by Mother's loving hands, ever the perfect hostess ensuring that no-one is without anything their heart desires. No Dad to preside over matters, always ready with the answers to any questions on just about any subject. Both ever-smiling, ever-loving and ever there for us all.
It's going to be a difficult time and won't resemble any of the past Christmases, which have been characterised by fun and laughter and huge family gatherings. I think we'll all be quite relieved when it's over and we can continue to rebuild our lives without those who made us feel so unconditionally loved.
Peace on Earth and goodwill to Man. Love forever.

Shine your light on the world

It saddens me to see people struggling through life, unaware of what it is really all about and so unable to smooth their own path. The most difficult thing to accept is that you cannot help those who will not be helped. Not for nothing was the old idiom 'you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink' written in the annals of history. There are none so deaf as those who will not hear.
No, you have to wait for someone to be ready to hear what you have to say, rather than try to convince them of anything that they are unable to accept as a possible alternative to what they have always believed. That is why I wrote "An Invitation to Think". I was compelled to put my thoughts in writing and make it available to the world, for anyone who might be interested in exploring the possibility that the world can be fixed and returned to being a place suitable for human habitation rather than continuing the downward spiral we are currently helter-skeltering down. It is available to anyone, and if nobody reads it, no matter - the putting down of the words achieved its purpose. [If any member of my family has read it, let me know. :)]
It is exactly what the title exhorts - an invitation to start looking at life from a new angle - one that you feel might well be better than you have been taught. After all, you are master of your own destiny, and if you don't see yourself as the hero of your own story, there isn't a chance that anyone else will. Our purpose is not to be one of a crowd, but to be an individual making a positive contribution to the whole. And it's never too late to start.
Every moment of every day is an opportunity to rewrite your story and become the shining light you are.

Christmas shopping done and dusted

The gross consumer frenzy of Christmas, which is after all a religious celebration for a large part of the world's population, takes away the spirit of the season for me. Adverts on TV keep informing us that we need to buy luxury items (things that we don't need) at prices that will keep us in debt for years to come, just to show how much we care about each other. How does this work for the poor, who are the world majority? However, as I bleat about this every Christmas, and the adverts keep on coming, I will continue with my modus operandi, which is to buy something we actually need. My grown-up children, however, still feel the need to give me extravagant gifts and will not be dissuaded, despite my instructions from October onwards.
For He Who Can Fix Anything, not a gracious receiver of gifts at the best of times, I decided the perfect gift would be a new dustpan and broom for the garage. After all, that's where he spends all his time and he is obsessed with tidiness and cleanliness. I found one in no time at the houseware aisle of the local supermarket and after carefully considering the colours, chose a subtle metallic grey.
Of course, it did look a little puny by way of a present (I myself expect the usual nothing), and I soon connected the dots to a much better version - a dust buster! Now that's something I have long desired - a little vacuum cleaner to pick up those annoying poppy seeds that are scattered all over the loaf of artisan bread that never stick to it, onion peels that drift to the ground in the draught from the kitchen window, small bits of kibbles round the pets' bowls - you know what I mean. And the best use - cleaning out the car. The effort of dragging out the 35-year-old bubble-shaped vacuum cleaner from under the workbench and attaching it to at least two different extension cords to actually reach the car in the driveway has prevented me from driving a pristine vehicle for years now!
So off I go to the local home store from which I have bought every appliance in the last 40 years (I always ask for a longstanding customer discount, but they never oblige) and the first thing I saw was exactly what was required. Sold on the spot. The salesman (there were two) were still trying to persuade me to buy (even though I had already made the decision) and I pressed the 'on' button, as we do when holding appliances, and it purred into action. I saw some bits and pieces on the carpet and stepped forward to test the device. Well, you would have thought I was about to push the red button in the White House. They both launched themselves at me in that movie-like slow motion flying, shouting 'Nooooooo!' Apparently if I had sucked it up, they would have had to sell it as 'shop-soiled'.
I told them not to panic, I would buy it, but I was not allowed to test-drive my new acquisition and had to take one home in a sealed box.
Oh, did I mention that it's probably not going to be allowed in the garage? I'm going to guard it carefully upstairs.

Bertie's Balcony

A fresh southeaster met us head-on as we set off from the Silvermine south carpark early this morning. Our destination was Bertie's Balcony, a site unknown to me as I am still a beginner hiker, but I knew it was a long way away, and a long way up! The walk along the familiar jeep track to the dry waterfall brought back memories of slogging along many years ago, not enjoying the trek at all.  With my new-found fitness and generally vastly improved health due to selective nutrition, I barely noticed the journey, but once we turned off to the left and began the climb, it was a real test of my progress. The wind kept us cool and it might have been a lot less pleasant to be in hot sun with no shade along the way.
I tend to trail in the rear as I stop often to enjoy the view and take photos of flowers, but this is no longer the case and I can keep up with the best of them (if I want to). Plentiful flowers, still closed at this early hour, promised a lovely showing on the way back, and the views became more and more spectacular as we climbed  - onward and upward, Pamela! was the exhortation. It's nice to know, though, that I have reached a stage where I can be solicitous towards others who might not be managing the rock climbing so easily.
The trail took us up ridges and down valleys and after a little judicious map-studying, we arrived at the overhang known as Bertie's Balcony, with the name painted faintly on the rock face. Amazingly, it was the only graffiti to be found, but on reflection it is quite obvious that nobody with a spray paint can in their hand bent on defacing nature's beauty would ever be that keen to climb that far. Long may it last!
The hike down was quite fast due to the steepness of the incline, and with the wind at our backs, we made it to the cars in just under 4 hours. About 8 kilometres. Another fine outing under the boots.

Noordhoek beach and Chapman's Peak in middle distance

The cars are at the end of the little stripe in middle of left-hand side

 

The most useless task in the world

Top of my list of things that life is too short to do is without a doubt, ironing. I think it all began when a simple straight up and down shift-type garment, which was the most suitable form of clothing, being a one-size-fits-all, no need to worry about whether your bum looked big in it, began to be eschewed by those who wished to show off their women in public. At first, a lovely silk ribbon was used to nip and tuck the flowing garments of the Greeks and Italians, but once a more permanent fastening was invented, there was no end to the variety of pleats, folds and blousons that could enhance women's attire. This later spread to multiple ruffles  and gathers for both men and women.

Surely none of this can have been invented with ironing in mind? The way I see it, the idea that sending your man off to work wearing a creased shirt is not something that should attract sneers and derision at your lack of pride in his appearance, but rather be a statement that you have something better to do with your life. After all, within half an hour of putting it on, his body heat will have smoothed the creases anyway.

I have always found that after I have ironed something, the end result is more defined creases, rather than a smooth finish, which totally defeats the whole purpose. Only someone who has never ironed anything in their life could have designed cargo pants, or pockets that have pleats and have little sides added so that you can carry a cellphone, R500 in R10 notes and five credit cards over your heart. Not to mention the proliferation of elasticised T-shirt type tops that gather a metre of material into a 30cm length.

Unless wearing clothes that haven't been ironed becomes a life-threatening situation, I am happy to advise that I have hung up my iron and from now on will be wearing clothes with almost as many wrinkles as my skin (so I'll still be looking quite smooth anyway - you can read that as either wrinkle-free or smoooooth!)
As for the rest of the family, the choice is theirs.

Pottering past the penguins

With December in full swing, Christmas lunches with those who you don't see on the day abound! Belonging to two walking groups meant two lunches, but with all that exercise the waistline doesn't suffer and the camaraderie is heartwarming.
Friday took us on a beach walk from Seaforth, past Boulders and Windmill beaches to the golf course. Penguins were the focus, as a well-known attraction, and we gawked from the walkway that winds through the trees and over the huge round granite boulders that give the beach its name. Windmill beach evidently refers to the gale force southeaster that blows through it!

The moulting youngsters didn't look happy!

SANCCOB (conservation of coastal birds) released a few boxes of freshly cleaned young penguins. They were quite comical with their wings held out from their bodies, looking around at their new home and quite reluctantly heading towards the sea, after some encouragement (okay, herding) from a SANCCOB official. Soon 20 little heads were to be seen bobbing on the swells, getting further from the shore, while one remained on shore. It didn't appear to like water! A nearby group of mature penguins was happy to welcome it into their territory, so all ended well. Presumably the others found their way back unharmed by predators!
The sea temperature was not nearly as warm as I expected, although I had no intention of swimming - I haven't been back in the water since Jaws. Early holidaymakers more than made up for my lack of enthusiasm and there were plenty in the crystal clear, very safe waters in the bays.
Lunch at the Simon's Town Country Club was a lekker bord kos in the old tradition and greatly appreciated, almost as much as a cold beer and chilled wine after a few hours in the wind and sun! There's always a reward for our exertions.

Paradise found

Today's hike took us up Baskloof Private Nature Reserve at Scarborough, high above the sea on top of the mountains to the west of Red Hill. If there is any place on Earth I would like a tiny cottage with no mod cons, where I could sit on the stoep and enjoy the fresh salty air coming up from the South Atlantic, a deep blue sky dotted with puffs of cloud and a carpet of soft glittery sand woven with myriad blooms in blue, pink and yellow, then this is it. Regrettably, someone already owns it, but we are privileged to be allowed access for a minimal fee, after an incredibly steep climb straight up from Scarborough! Tough going for the first hour. Totally worth it.
Enjoy the pics. It is a paradise.

Looking back again

Just to show that nothing is new under the sun, here is my blog from exactly 5 years ago. Nothing has changed except the level of the dams! Even the meteor shower is due to be obscured by cloud again. No further news on the UFO. The porcupines and baboons haven't been seen for months. Head in oven to retrieve supper.

So who's enjoying the weather in Cape Town now? Gale force southeaster slamming doors and pulling curtains through windows. Gates banging and dirt flying everywhere. Paintings are all crooked on the walls as house on pillars rocks and rolls, and one even fell off and knocked over the small telescope which now needs to be realigned, if that is possible! In between gusts, the humidity is suffocating and we are all looking as though we have just had an hour's workout at the gym, but without the benefit of having burned off the calories. The only good thing is that we are drinking lots of water.

I'm going to try and look for the Geminid meteor shower tonight (I think about 11 or maybe 3?), but there are some high clouds which might obscure it. I saw a brief preview on Sunday night with a few shooting stars and a very bright object that shot across the sky and was definitely not a meteor; possibly a very low satellite. On Monday night I was out visiting a friend and came home at 10 o'clock, only to see the next day that at 9pm a UFO was spotted above us and friends in Knysna also saw it. Just my luck, if I had been at home I might have seen it. Tried last night, but no luck. Very interesting that the photo posted later matched the description given by the friend. Time will tell on that subject.

No porcupine last night, which is good news, although I see that half of my vegetables have been eaten. Could have been a giant worm, or a guinea fowl or suchlike. We have a lot of wildlife here!

Time to put my head in the oven and see if supper's ready!

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 summer, 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 - what's left of the lawn at 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), bearing in mind that it is specific for Kommetjie and could be completely different in Sea Point, Constantia, the Cape Flats and Muizenberg, and for the rest of the day it will be anyone's guess!

Hold on to your hat!

Today the Peninsula is being battered by a strong southeaster, increasing to near gale force tonight. As if the dessicating effects of a three-day heatwave were not enough. Doors and windows have to remain closed, not only to keep the dirt and dust out, but to keep the pictures on the walls and the blinds and curtains on the inside of the house. The sea is just white spume blowing away to the horizon. No chance of a wave - even the Kakapo reef is struggling to rise to its usual magnificence.
Another hugely entertaining jazz lunch at the Cape Quarter in Green Point - highly recommended for smooth jazz and talented singers/musicians - meant that we would be in the midst of the 60 000 people attending the Rugby Sevens weekend at the Green Point Stadium, but amazingly the traffic was minimal and everyone was on Shank's Pony. It was a real treat to see so many people entering into the spirit of the festivities, dressed up in everything from dinosaur costumes to waterwings and rings to a raucous group in nappies who kept us entertained at the traffic lights. Turns out that all the rugby goers had parked at the Waterfront, filling the parking garages so that shoppers had nowhere to park, and then walked to the stadium.
The howling gale made for difficult driving along the freeways and trees were losing branches all along the route. Plastic bags and papers gusted in little tornadoes through the alleys and narrow lanes, and the sea inside the docks scattered in every direction as the wind whipped the surface. I would not like to be on one of the Volvo yachts currently moored at the Waterfront! Cape Town wind at its best!
Another pleasant surprise was the lack of traffic all the way out of town later in the afternoon. We went to Cavendish Square due to no parking at the Waterfront, and within the hour had found everything we were looking for, drove straight out, still no traffic all the way back to Kommetjie. The quietest day on the road I have known in years.
So the conclusion is that all of Cape Town's drivers must be at the rugby.

Lion's Head, the other way!

There's been a heatwave in Cape Town, but still we hike! Today it was fractionally cooler than yesterday's 39 degrees in the shade, and I studied every available weather forecast to ensure that the temperature around Lion's Head would be manageable. A northwesterly drift in from the sea was predicted to keep temperatures at 24, with the Cape Flats and Winelands soaring to the mid-30s again. So all good. We walked here two weeks ago in another group, but today only 6 turned up (they obviously thought it too hot), and to ring the changes, we walked in the opposite direction. This meant that the steep uphill section would be at noon with no shade to speak of. Oh well.
After Tuesday's exhausting yet quickly recovered from scramble to the top of Vlakkenberg, this was a doddle. The sea was like a pond, with patches of smoothness so still that it reflected the pale blue sky, amid swirls of disturbance creating an effect of oil on water. Tankers waited patiently in the roadstead, sunbathers dotted the beaches far below, and the sea was a clear turquoise, the result of a few days of fierce southeaster.

The walk was not at all tiring despite quite high steps on the uphill and it seems as though my fitness levels are good! Perspiration levels were also high towards the end as the sun beat down on us relentlessly. Maybe the clockwise walk is wiser!

Looking at labels

One of the things in life that I'm really passionate about is keeping an eye out for the consumer. In the past, I have had many run-ins with major supermarket chains regarding the modus operandi of their shelf pricing and advertising, and I am pleased to say that in each instance, I have been proven correct in my assertion.

Nothing raises my hackles quicker than false advertising, whether it takes the form of meat packaged with the fat hidden underneath, or the bony side of the chop out of sight. And don't let me get started on pre-packed vegetables!

But today took the cake! At the meat counter of the largest retailer in SA, I was sorting through the lamb neck for the best cuts for the lamb curry I'm going to make. One of the packs was marked Free Range, but priced by hand and the others just had the store label. As usual, I checked thr kilo price and was pleasantly surprised to see that they were the same. Obviously a mistake, but I took it because I never point out underpricing - after all, they are supposed to be looking after the consumer. I glanced at the price of another pack, which couldn't have weighed more than 300g and was amazed to see that it was R231.46! I checked the name - lamb neck - then the kilo weight - 3kg! I hotfooted that back to the butchery department and asked that they relabel it before someone with a trolley worth R2 000 didn't notice. I was impressed that they came to me afterwards to thank me.

Consumers beware - this is a common mislabelling error, although perhaps not always on quite so impressive a scale. Always read your labels.

Scaling the heights!

Just when I thought we had reached the zenith of our group's hiking capabilities, I am again astounded by the capacity of the, let's face it, elderly to climb every mountain. I say elderly because a recent newspaper report referred to a 63-year-old as 'elderly' and at 61 I am the youngest. We are constantly put to shame by the octogenarians, and having completed a hike up Vlakkenberg adjacent to Constantiaberg, I can safely say that it is ticked off the bucket list (not mine, but a number of others).
The walk commenced at Constantia Nek and immediately we set off straight uphill, with fairly rough steps making the going uneven. This soon developed into a steep stone path with some heaving up required - excellent for the thigh muscles if you have any - and from time to time I stopped to admire the ever-expansive view and marvel at how high we had climbed. It was in fact very tough going, with no respite from the upward toil, and easily outclassed the steps of Friday up to Just Nuisance's grave on top of Red Hill. In fact, it outdid every walk I have done since June. My first walk then was from Constantia Nek up to Eagle's Nest, which was now way below us and looked like a gentle stroll in comparison. How far I have come!

 

Eagles Nest in the centre way below us.

 
 

As always, there were plenty of flowers to admire along the way, and such a variety. There are also huge piles of long-dead trees lining the track, looking like ideal fuel for a runaway fire. The southeaster was blasting across the southern Peninsula at the time, but we were only treated to the gentlest breeze, and shade was completely unavailable. We all looked a little less than glamorous after the descent, but this was soon remedied by a delicious lunch on a sheltered patio adorned with ancient vines!