High tea at the Mount Nelson Hotel, Cape Town

Went to the Mount Nelson for high tea today to celebrate 50 years of friendship with two dear friends. Two were unable to be there and I considered taking cardboard cutouts, but didn't want to appear weird.
  I don't wear shoes at home, inside or outside. My feet are far away from my eyes, so seldom undergo close scrutiny. But today I sat on the edge of the bath, armed with half a lemon, soap, pumice stone and scrubbing brush, for an emergency pedicure. I stopped short of nail polish on my toenails due to time constraints.
  With my eyes closer to my leg, I was amazed to see the length of the hairs that in our caveman days were intended for warmth and now have still to be totally eliminated by evolution. Hmm, what to wear, what to wear. It would have to be pants now, despite the 31 degrees out there.
   Got into the car. The windows are closed and it's been in the sun for 6 hours. If I'd put a casserole in earlier, I could have had a quick lunch. Fortunately swopped old Toyota for friend's 350SLK and airconditioner.
  Parked outside the front door at the Nelly (you can't do that with a Toyota unless it's a Lexus) and wafted through to the lounge as if to the manner born, where we consume vast quantities of tea and sticky buns in elegant (dare I say it? of course!) colonial comfort. Some traditions just don't lose their appeal, and we harked back to fond memories of another such establishment, the Vic Falls Hotel.
  Talk turned to the passing of the years, with the focus (sorry) on our deteriorating eyesight. Turns out theirs is as bad as mine. I could have worn the skirt after all.