Easy on Saturday morning

Our morning walk with the dogs down to the lighthouse turned into an unscheduled jog. We are neither of us athletes by nature or inclination, but when slashing rain is but a wave or two away, we can become like Hermes with wings on our heels. As good fortune would have it, the cloud moved ever so slightly south and so we were only sprinkled, not soaked, and doubtless the increased heart rate was good for the metabolism.

There are not many photo opportunities, what with the spray and the gloomy skies, certainly no good for my little phone camera, and the snow is on the other side of the Peninsula, so we can't even see it. The sea is just lumpy but the most beautiful bottle green with whiter than white surf as the swells crest and fall. (Does 'crestfallen' mean your face dissolves into white foam? - no, it means dejected as a result of a blow to one's ambitions - perhaps the waves' ambitions are dashed on the rocks?) Once again, I digress...

We had our usual family (mother, father and three daughters) Saturday breakfast. This takes place at various nurseries around the valley. They all have restaurants attached these days - they actually can't afford not to, as all outings seem to include some kind of refreshment and I doubt whether a nursery that doesn't offer at least coffee and cake would do as much business as those that do. The likelihood of buying plants after a leisurely breakfast is infinitely higher, certainly as far as we are concerned! Today it was the turn of Easy Dig at Harry Goemans Nursery between Fish Hoek and Kommetjie. The coffee is excellent, the food attractively served and tasty, and the surroundings made as comfortable as possible considering the weather. The nursery itself offers a wide range of healthy plants and garden accessories with plenty of knowledgeable assistance on hand.

I brought home an indoor fern and a punnet of tomatoes - tempting the baboons and porcupines again, I fear, but somehow we never seem to want to give up the delights of picking our own food from the vegetable patch! Spring is upon us and with all this rain, I think the garden will be off to a good start.

Back to school

I went to the Fish Hoek Founder's Day assembly today - 59 years. It's been 40 years since we matriculated and so much has changed since then, particularly in technology - we didn't have any - and subjects offered at school. Even the school has moved - the primary school is in the old high school premises and the high school relocated to where the hockey and soccer fields were many years ago. Although I have taxied children to and from the school over the years and made a few visits to the office, I haven't really been back to school since 1973. A fellow pupil, who is now a professor of chemistry, gave an entertaining and inspiring speech and the new principal showed us how extremely fortunate the school is to have a visionary leader who can connect with the kids without being too familiar or patronising.

My old maths teacher was there and I was very happy to be able to thank him for his efforts in trying to teach me something of maths, even though there was no luck there - he would just shake his head when he saw my maths book. I asked him if he thought our year had had the most fun and he said, every matric class has the most fun. A wise man!

We toured the school - amazing facilities for art, drama and music, as well as sport and technology. We had only the basics in our day - the internet hadn't been invented and we still used manual typewriters!

We chatted, not so much about old times as the times in between, and when I left some 2 1/2 hours later, I had a strange feeling of disorientation, as though I had travelled back in time and not quite made it back to the future. Tomorrow is the 40th reunion dinner - I'm really looking forward to that!

A sticky story

A few days ago, I tried a new recipe that looked like the ideal snack or lunch food - chopped vegetables, feta and bacon placed in muffin pans and covered with beaten egg, then baked in the oven till puffy - the perfect gluten-free muffin with vegetable accompaniment! I climbed the kitchen ladder to retrieve the muffin pans which are banished to the top shelf of the cupboard (I try not to make these things, as it is so much easier not to eat something you don't have!). They are non-stick pans, apparently, but just to be safe, I greased them lightly with a little butter. I duly cooked the bacon, then added little feta chunks, spring onion, peas and sweetcorn kernels and finally the egg. Into the oven for 20 minutes and out came delicious-looking baby souffles - which immediately sank back into rather rumpled muffins, but still the golden-brown, glossy look was mouthwatering.

I loosened the sides of the first muffin with a wooden spatula, not wanting to scratch the pan, but it wasn't going to relinquish it's hold that easily. I tried a rubber spatula, with not much more success and finally took the plastic thingy that comes with a fridge that you use to hack out the ice when your freezer needs defrosting. No matter how many muffins I tried to ease out of the non-stick, greased pan, the bottom and sides remained firmly stuck.

It then occurred to me that the egg was the problem. Egg sticks to everything - glass, porcelain, stainless steel and teflon. It doesn't even come off in the dishwasher. Scrambled egg adheres to the tines of a fork and between the slots of a spatula. Perhaps egg is the basis of glue, I wondered, as I scraped in vain at the remnants of the egg muffins in an attempt to clean the pans. Nothing was going to shift it. I soaked the pans for a day - still nothing. Then I left them to dry, thinking that maybe it would flake off. Tomorrow, I will scratch it off with my fingernails, which fortunately are hard enough to undo screws.

Everyone wonders how teflon sticks to the pan it coats, seeing that nothing is supposed to stick to it. I have the answer. There is a layer of egg between the pan and the teflon!

Dodging raindrops

Exciting day - started off quite cold and miserable, although as usual we do not bear the brunt of the storms in this neck of the woods - but the steady downpour makes it unpleasant for the dogs and cat to go outside. Wouldn't it be nice if you got litter trays for doggies - they get really wet out there and the smell of damp dog, which to me resembles plasticine, is not great. I would blow-dry them with the hairdryer, but then I would have to do it at least three times and they aren't that fond of the noise.

The day improved with a really tasty Eggs Benedict at our local restaurant, Espresso.kom, and excellent Americano in stimulating company. Thanks, Mel! Then a visit from an old friend and a few sales of my book (punt) which is most gratifying. Still no respite from the rain, so did a little housework, then off to the hairdresser for a much-needed dolly-up for Saturday's 40th matric reunion. Looking all neat and tidy and ready to hit the town, it was back home to cook roast pork. Of course, I forgot to buy bread and milk on the way and so had to take the car out of the garage again - so far six trips from car to indoors in light rain. As I turned on the stove, the gas ran out, so it was back down to the garage to change the gas bottle and 20 minutes later take the washing out of the machine to bring upstairs to dry. It's amazing what a little rain can do for straight hair - it seems that it can curl in many directions at once. Obviously I shouldn't comb it when it's wet if I want a bit of a kink!

And at the end of the day, as always, there is a break in the clouds so that we can see the setting sun before the next cold front hits us - we are told by the weatherman that this will be accompanied by freezing air and 3 days of snow, sometimes below 1000 metres. So get out those bedsocks and nightcap and perhaps the third duvet!

Stormy weather and a sprinkling of snow

Wow! Hard not to harp on about the weather here. Apart from a short trip up the road to get milk and eggs this morning, I haven't set foot outside the house. Outside, the sea is monstrous, mainly due to the strong winds blowing the crests of the waves back into the Atlantic. The strange thing is that there has been no rain, although the dogs have just come inside from a foray onto the lawn and are a little damp - nothing that a rub with a towel won't deal with.

The forecast for tonight and especially tomorrow is heavy rain and then sharply dropping temperatures with the unusual addition of snow on Table Mountain. Don't go getting your skis and snowboards out! It will probably only be on the table itself, and besides, there are no slopes as locals well know! Snow is predicted over 3 days which also seems like a first.

The seas off Cape Town have been big over the last few weeks and it's always exciting to watch ships sail/steam/drive (what would the word be these days?) past as the bows rise out of the water, revealing the bulge below the waterline which, believe it or not, is termed a 'bulbous bow' and increases speed and fuel efficiency (who would have thought, when every vessel ever built had a sharp bow?) and then crash into the trough, throwing plumes of water over the deck. Dramatic stuff and I bet it makes a few rivets creak! Although you might think it odd, small fishing vessels have also been taking to the deep waters in heavy seas, disappearing from view completely as they chug out (a ship wouldn't chug, I don't think - but it seems appropriate here), perhaps to be first at the fishing grounds when the storm has passed. Who knows, but I wouldn't like to be on board.

Taken through a window covered in salt spray!

I think I'll take advantage of the inclement weather to stay at home and deal with some rather nasty paperwork for a government department, interspersed with some painting while the mood takes me and late at night, the US Open Tennis. Vamos, Rafaaaa!

Salvaging single socks

You are probably aware that our left side is not the same as our right side and nowhere is it more apparent than our feet. My left side is slightly larger (I must emphasise the slightly) and so when I buy shoes, I always try on the left one first. If that shoe fits, the right one will, but if the right shoe fits, the left shoe will be too tight. This is a problem when it comes to socks. The left-hand (left-foot?) sock always wears through the big toe and the one next to it! I always make sure that sock goes back on the left foot to preserve the right sock and eventually throw it away.

There is no end to the supply of single socks in the sock drawer - you all know that in some faraway secret place is a massive population of unmatched socks - perhaps a website (Desperately Seeking Socks) would be a big hit, with mug shots of all the single socks.

And then today I had a brainwave as I looked down at two toes peeking forlornly out of my left-hand sock! I never wear shoes inside the house, but in winter I don't want to be barefoot. I can use all the single socks as houseslippers! They will also pick up stray dog hair and I can run my toes along the skirting boards rather than having to bend down to dust. The toes won't wear through because they won't be rubbing against a shoe and they can be thrown in the washing machine with all the other household cloths.

The only thing to look out for will be slipping out to the shop for milk and bread and forgetting that I have odd socks on - but then again, have I ever worried about a skew look?

The nature of things

On our return from walking the dogs yesterday morning, I was thrilled to see the Black Sparrowhawk swoop down in front of us where we feed the pigeons and then alight on the gatepost. As I took out my phone to take a photograph, He Who Can Fix Anything shooed the bird away, which caused a bit of a rift so early in the morning. He loves his pigeons, especially the ones who have some sort of disability. There is one he calls Hoppy that has an injured leg and lives close to the garage. When the door is open, Hoppy comes inside and they chat while Hoppy jumps into the bird food container and picks out the sunflower seeds. We haven't seen Hoppy for about a week now, and he is adamant that 'my' sparrowhawk has killed his bird. Oh dear! I fear that may be true. However, that's nature. Sparrowhawks go where the pigeons are, and we are feeding the pigeons (actually rock pigeons, which have bred extremely successfully due to the guaranteed food supply - we started off with about five and now there are thirty-five!), which naturally encourages the sparrowhawk to hunt in our driveway. He could never eat all the birds, certainly not at the rate they breed. So I maintain he is creating the circumstances, and I am just enjoying nature. That is the danger of becoming attached to animals I suppose. As long as you can't identify them and they remain just one of the flock, they can be prey for a raptor. He tries to compare it to a mountain lion coming down and killing Monty, our dog, but that is somewhat far-fetched!

So I'll just have to hope Hoppy is on a nest nearby or just moved to a different flock and will come back one day, or that another bird will come wandering in and out of the garage on a Sunday to keep him company.

The old ways of braai-ing are dying

I find it difficult to understand the attraction of a braai, or barbecue, for non-South Africans. Traditionally, it is a male pastime involving a large fire, copious amounts of beer and standing in a circle watching meat cook. Women are allocated to kitchen duty, where they are required to produce a variety of salads, preferably involving potatoes and pasta, garlic bread, bowls of salty snacks to pass around while the men debate the heat of the coals, and some sort of sweet, sticky dessert for afters.

When the meat is finally pronounced cooked, to the braaier's standard of  doneness, which can range from anything between still bleeding to dessicated, the lucky ladies get to dish up for the men as well as themselves. After a short interval of silence while everyone tucks in, it's back to the kitchen to clean up, while the men place fresh logs on the fire and reminisce.

Fortunately those traditions are dying out, as women reclaim their place in society. Now we are also able to place the firelighter in the braai and build our fire of split logs around it, light it, ensure that it keeps burning until coals have formed and then place the meat on the grid, where we ensure that  it is constantly turned with a pair of tongs while sipping on some sauvignon blanc. The salads have, of course, already been made earlier in the day, so no hiccup there. Once again, the meal is served at the whim of the braaier and carried resplendently through to the banqueting hall, where the men sit transfixed before the TV, watching sport.

Oh, did I neglect to say that's why the tradition has died out?

Looking up

What an endless source of entertainment the sky is! Every moment is different - perhaps a butterfly flutters by, or a flock of pigeons, the straggling V of sacred ibis or a pair of seagulls riding the thermals high overhead. Sometimes it's a hang-glider, a small plane doing aerobatics or the cheerful multicoloured kites which often brighten the skies over Kommetjie.

As I sit on my balcony, a prinia trills briefly on the tiniest twig on top of a tree, silhouetted against a backdrop of palest blue before swooping down to pick up a piece of fluff to line a nest. The foliage on the tree is olive green on top and grey green underneath, and the sunlight reflects off it like a mirror on this crisp but sunny late winter's day.

Wispy clouds are forming over the mountains, fluffy and white, but I don't think they'll be there for long - they form and fade away as I watch. Clouds provide us, and particularly children, with endless fuel for the imagination as we see castles in the sky, dragons and angels, dogs and ducks. At sunrise and sunset, clouds provide a means for us to experience the wondrous beauty of nature's light show, as they turn from cerise to palest pink and vice versa.

On clear nights, we can gaze out into the infinite universe and marvel at our insignificance under the twinkling stars, the odd planet, myriad satellites and occasionally the International Space Station as it hurtles round the Earth every two hours or so.

I believe the sky is blue because it is a soothing colour - imagine living under an orange sky! Any time you are feeling stressed or worn out, look up into the sky and watch nature go about its business. You may see something unexpected.

 

 

Something new to paint

The trouble with picking up a paintbrush after such a long break is that I don't know what to paint! It started as a little still life - an orange - and it developed into a glass vase with hydrangeas and then it became a sunset over the sea. I was happy with that, so now I must wait a few days for it to dry so that I can do the highlights.

The next decision is what to do with all the paintings I have started and never finished. I'm sure I am not the only person in the world who has unfinished projects in the back of a cupboard or in the outside storeroom. The good thing about painting is that there is no limit to the number of times you can paint over your failures. Sometimes the extra texture leads you to a whole new place of creativity - some of my best work covers three or four earlier attempts.

I am not the only one who re-uses canvases. A very old Dutch painting on the wall in a friend's home reveals, when you stand at the right angle, that a whole section of the picture was painted over as it was completely out of perspective - if the artist had used thicker paint, the underlying layer would have be invisible, but it actually adds to the charm of the painting to know that even top-class artists have a re-think!

But somehow the lure of a fresh white canvas is much more enticing, and probably will lead to something new and original, rather than a rehash of old and stale subject matter. That will have to be the way to go. I'm looking forward to seeing what it turns out to be.

Putting a spring back in my step

A not very successful day in the kitchen! I discovered that raw almonds, which are one of the few nuts I should eat, have an inhibitor in the skin which prevents the release of the nutrients into the body. We are supposed to dry roast them for 3 minutes to neutralise it. After all these years! So I put a bag of almonds on a baking tray and spread them out nicely while the oven heats. In they go, I check the time on the clock - and sit down at my computer. I quickly get caught up in the news of the day (Facebook!) and before I know it, the nuts have been in the oven for 6 minutes. I whip them out - they are starting to singe in places! Now I don't know if I have completely killed the nuts and must throw away R100 worth - a whole month's supply - or whether I can even eat them. I tasted a few and they are rather borderline - so if anyone is more informed, please let me know whether they should be turfed or are still edible!

The drawback of healthy eating, for me anyway, is that, once your body is completely toxin-free and functioning as it should, there is no going back to bad habits. A month of social eating, while all good fun, spells disaster for me and it's back to chicken and rice again and strict portions too! Turns out that all the highly nutritious superfoods I have been consuming are for people who are not eating three full meals a day and should be taken with circumspection - not as an extra part of the meal. I did wonder why the buttons didn't meet! And of course, the excess of sugar in my system - which doesn't like it at all - has provided a fantastic breeding ground for the flu bugs that won't let go. No-one knows better than me how bad sugar (I use that term loosely) is for the body and I now have to pull myself together - prevention is always better than cure.

In a couple of weeks, to coincide with the change of seasons, I will have bounced back and have a spring in my step again - I may even find some daisies in my pocket

Searching for sushi

I had to have new tyres put on my car today, so took the opportunity to include a trip to the Waterfront for a lunchtime treat of sushi at what I consider the best eatery there, Willoughby's. I also needed to get a couple of bracelets at the crystal store to match different outfits and requirements, and planned to go to the Food Market where they have all those delectable specialities from around the world. My daughter and I set off for Maitland, where it took an hour to change four tyres and do the alignment, despite not having to wait in a queue. I have no idea what took so long, but now I can feel that I am riding on treads and not on canvas! Item #1 sorted, and at a very good price!

We arrived at the Waterfront to find that a large portion of it has been dug up for further construction, which shows how long it is since I was last there. We parked in the cheap garage and crossed the road - that's the difference between the cheap and the expensive parking - crossing a road and went our separate ways, not having the same interests except for sushi. There was no problem locating the bracelets and a very satisfactory deal was struck. Then I set off for the food market, only to find that it is not open on Monday and Tuesday. Funny how that fact doesn't seem to feature on their Twitter account which constantly exhorts you to drop by! Item #2 not sorted.

Further bad news followed - Willoughby's was closed for renovation and the opening date was - 6pm tonight! So a week of looking forward to our favourite dish came to nought. Never mind, we would head for the only other restaurant we frequent - San Marco's. Curses - closed for renovations! Obviously it's no good to be a tourist at the Waterfront in August. We could just as well be in Europe, where it's also a bad month for tourists.

As luck would have it, I rounded a corner and bumped into my sister-in-law, who is at the Waterfront every day, she tells me, despite having a full-time job. She lives to shop. Anyway, being in the know, she told us to go for the 50% off Tuesday special on sushi at the Cape Town Fish Market, which we did, and so we managed to accomplish the main task of the day, sushi for lunch and at a bargain price!

Lazy summers on the catwalk (Jager Walk)

Been basking in the sunshine today, taking advantage of a lull between cold fronts. I took an elderly friend down to Fish Hoek beach for coffee and a walk along the catwalk or Jager Walk as it is more correctly known. It's not often that I go along there, and even less often that I sit on one of the colourful benches and enjoy the view across the bay. Today it would have been a crime not to, and so we sat watching the large - for Fish Hoek - swells coming in from the south and splashing up the rocks onto the catwalk. We were opposite Skellies Pool, a natural bathing area famous among Fish Hoekites as a safe place for small children to swim at low tide - obviously accompanied by their parents. These days it is more likely to be packed to the gunwales as it is the only place the sharks can't access!

In our teenage years, summers were spent on the lawns lining the catwalk - the benches near the cafe were for the 'oldies' - and I know many who read this blog will be transported back to those idyllic days when all we had to worry about was a school test or whether so-and-so would be at the Friday night disco. The area was sheltered from the relentless south-east wind of summer and the sea often an enticing 20 degrees. In those days, we were blissfully unaware of the danger that lurks off those rocks - our very own Jaws, maybe even more than one. I haven't been back in the water since seeing that movie, except one exceptionally hot January day last year, when I didn't venture further than waist-deep. Blow me down if the shark siren didn't go off within an hour of leaving the water!

Today, those same teenagers are past middle age, and a handful of them still brave the waves early in the morning, summer and winter. They must have mermaid blood in their veins!

Unexpected drama

Took a stroll along the boardwalk to the lighthouse this evening, enjoying the promised milder weather and taking pictures of the sunset. There were four paragliders riding the thermals above Slangkop for about an hour while we strolled and we remarked on how good the conditions were for them and whether they got bored up there after a while. We got home and started to shut down activities, as one does on a Sunday evening ready for the week ahead, when a helicopter buzzed up the Fish Hoek valley and flew in low overhead towards the lighthouse.

We had been watching a tunny boat heading out to sea earlier, which was odd in itself, and also a strange-looking vessel with a large fore superstructure, long flat deck and two pillars at the back for which we could think of no purpose. So when the helicopter flew out and sirens were heard right behind, we thought 'aha! drug smugglers doing a pick up!' We obviously watch too many movies!

The next thing to do was to jump into the Mini and dash up the road that winds around the mountain above Slangkop lighthouse to get a bird's eye view of what was going on. The helicopter was hovering nearby, just out of sight. When we got up the hill, there were about 5 emergency vehicles and twenty civilian cars out for a gawk, just like us. We immediately realised it had to be something to do with the paragliders.

It turned out that one of the gliders had parted company with the strings that hold the parachute to the person (a real case of no strings attached!) and he had crash-landed. Fortunately he was not badly injured, but the number of emergency vehicles and a helicopter coming to the scene made us grateful that we belong to this emergency service and that it is thankfully incredibly efficient. Some things still do work! Actually, most things do, to be honest.

Switch of seasons

The first freesia has burst into bloom, clivia flowers are straining to escape from between the tight grip of their strappy leaves and white daisies are in profusion at the sides of the road. Amidst all these signs of spring, real winter still has us in its grip. The seas, they promised, would be mountainous, with swells of 8-9 metres, and while this may be true, strangely enough the shorebreak is just an untidy jumble of big breakers, far less spectacular than the individual waves which pounded us last week. Perhaps it is the waxing gibbous moon that is holding back extreme ebb and flow - thank goodness for that. I haven't seen a sea louse, so that bodes well.

The cold weather makes me go to bed very early in the evenings - it's so much cosier under three duvets with a hot bean bag on your feet than watching tennis on the couch in a cold lounge. We stopped using the fireplace years ago, when we had a couple of winters that just weren't cold enough and then the inevitable happened - rust! The chimney flue has disintegrated and if we made a fire now, the whole house would be filled with smoke and soot, so we will be removing it and filling in the hole in the roof. I have no idea how, but that will be left to He Who Can Fix Anything! He thinks it will be an easy job, but I doubt it. I have thought of putting in one of those bubble skylights, but in a house as bright and sunny as ours, that would look just plain stupid. Whatever we do, it had better not leak!

Last weekend I fed the garden liberally with manure pellets in anticipation of a rainy week, and so that garden chore is done for the next few months. I hope the desired results will come to fruition and we'll have a few splashes of colour in the garden soon,

Foraging for free food

Once again, the cold, windy weather makes it too unpleasant to walk along the seafront, so I have confined myself to the kitchen. The Cornish pasties from last night are re-heating in the oven (the leftovers!) and apple crumble and custard are waiting in the wings for weary travellers. Baked chicken and vegetables were my supper - my favourite!

I think it's going to be a cooking weekend - this weather lends itself to comfort food, whereas in summer we tend to eat very lightly - baked meats and salads - and sometimes meatless meals, as we become less and less inclined towards eating red meat and prefer free range chicken and fish. For the moment, it's stew time and soup.

The indigenous nursery way down the Peninsula near Cape Point Reserve has advertised a guided walk on the mountain slopes to introduce us to foraging - this is gathering your food from the veld. There are all kinds of edible plants out there, as well as in our gardens, and there is no harm in finding out more about what is freely available, as well as identifying the poisonous species at the same time! They offer advice on how to use the plants in your cooking, and it will be interesting to find out what they taste like, as well as how nutritious they are. I have a ground cover in my garden which is a rampant grower and read in a gardening magazine that it can be eaten like spinach - presumably lightly steamed - and if that is so, I have an apparently limitless supply of greens on my doorstep. A field of nasturtiums is next door for salads, and dandelions are rife, another valuable food source.

Soon we will be competing with the baboons in their kitchen! If you can't beat 'em, join 'em!

Grandma's Cornish Pasties

I'm always trying to think of something new to make for dinner. You might think that with 25 cookery books I have new meals at my fingertips, but somehow I only start to think of supper around 3pm and then throw together the same old things. Today I looked in the fridge and saw some pieces of rump steak that, if I left them another day, would start to moo, and my grandmother's Cornish pasties came floating into my memory. She used to cut up steak, carrots, potatoes and onions and put it all, raw, inside pastry and cook it until brown and crisp, The inside was always cooked perfectly and the steak tender and moist. Right! That's what I will cook.

I started slicing the steak into tiny cubes of 1cm square, then some carrots and potatoes, sweet potato and onions, all neatly chopped into uniform chunks. While I was doing this, I sent my daughter up the road to the local food deli to buy the frozen puff pastry I always use - it's been years since I made any form of pastry myself, mainly because I'm supposed to avoid it - but she came back without any. Apparently not many people use pastry in Kommetjie, so they have stopped stocking it. They must have forgotten about me.

So there I have a large bowl of Cornish pasty filling and nothing to put it in. I would just have to roll up my sleeves and make it myself. With the aid of a food processor, the flour, salt, butter and iced water was blitzed in a jiffy and I even wrapped it in clingfilm and put in the fridge as required for good pastry. Half an hour later, it was time to take it out and roll it, as supper time loomed. To my delight, the pastry rolled without a stretch or a crack and in no time I had six rather large Cornish pasties ready to go into the oven.

Forty-five minutes later, they were slightly larger, a rich golden-brown colour and still intact. I sliced one open, and although there was no rich brown gravy oozing out (that is found in commercial pies only), the pasty proved to be a culinary success. Although they won't win any prizes in the appearance stakes, I can say that they were so simple to make, an absolute beginner chef would be successful, and practice will make perfect.

And on the up side, from fridge to dinner plate took an hour and three quarters. A winner in my book!

The rocky shore

Today is a particularly good day for an aromatic and slightly spicy chicken curry! Actually any day is in our family, but the fresh wind on the boardwalk makes me grateful to have a daughter slaving over a hot stove at home while I'm clearing out the lungs and breathing in the pristine ozone we are so privileged to have free access to here.

There were no signs of sea lice scuttling as we walked along the path, so there is no likelihood of a very high tide tonight. All the action is on the sea, in the heaving swells giving a demonstration of what is to come. As the swells rise into peaks on reaching shallow waters, it is easy to picture the spray that whips back from the crests as the flying manes of true white horses, galloping towards the finishing line where they will disperse into froth on the rocky shore.

You can see the silhouette of a lone fisherman - the whole area in front of him is solid rock about 2 feet below the surface to the second breaker, so I don't know what the chances of him catching supper are!

The sea has been pounding this shoreline for more than 250 000 years now and the rounded boulders that form a jumbled natural breakwater that protects the sandy interior from flooding must surely have been much larger and squarer when first the land rose to modern levels. This whole area is a wave-cut platform and was originally the seabed, which is obvious from the white sand that forms the basis of my garden soil. It is only the thousands of years of mulch from the milkwoods that grow here that have given the soil any kind of nutritive qualities, I'm sure. It is quite incredible that the boulders haven't been ground to sand by now. If they were taken away, it would probably take only a few years for the sea to reclaim a large portion of the land around the Slangkop lighthouse.

However, I doubt that anyone would ever need to interfere with the coastline - after all, SA National Parks consider the builders of stone sculptures to be interfering with nature and push them over! The picture below shows the sculpture culprit at the peak of his skills, when so many people derived such pleasure from these arty outcrops!

Lighthouses and lost books

Living as I do in close proximity to a lighthouse, with its beam flashing out as a warning to ships not to stray too close to this dangerous coastline, I often have cause to remember a family who bought a holiday home in Nantucket in the early 20s. They were the Gilbreths - father and mother Frank and Lillie - who pioneered time and motion study. They had twelve children and Frank Gilbreth, when asked why he had such a large family, would pretend to think a while and then say it was because they came cheaper by the dozen. The holiday home consisted of a small building and two bug-lights (small lighthouses which, when they lined up in the sights of a ship's captain, would lead him safely through a channel into the harbour - much like the beacons of Knysna lagoon). The children used the lighthouses as dormitories and the two books they wrote about the family later in life, Cheaper by the Dozen and Belles on their Toes, told the tale of growing up in such a large and interesting family. By all accounts, the father was a real character who developed his time and motion theories through such methods as timing his children on how long they were in the bathroom, etc. With so many of them, it would have been quite a logistical nightmare in the days of single bathrooms! (The Von Trapp family were doing similar things on the other side of the Atlantic at about that time, although apparently on a larger budget!)

I read these books over and over as a child, as they were on my mother's bookshelf, and although I have searched and searched, I cannot find either book. Even stranger, no one seems to know what I am talking about when I ask where they are! If anyone knows where I can find these books, please let me know. I would imagine they are out of print now, although a visit to a bookshop could give me the answer to that!

Cape of Storms

The wind is really starting to blow in from the Atlantic now. Banks of clouds heavy with moisture are blanketing Cape Town and they are likely to dump their load on the Peninsula overnight. Snow will be in the offing to add to the already plentiful supply in the Boland. The forecast for the rest of the week is bleak in the extreme as our normal short, sharp winter makes landfall. The waves have churned the sea into a murky brown mixture, as if a gigantic river of silt has been fed into it from the land and it is not a night to be at sea.

Icy winds are whistling round the house, seeking cracks to seep through and making us draw the bedclothes close around us - no central heating or double glazing in this (usually) sunny land. We have so few cold days that these comforts would be unused for 95% of the year.

The speed and intensity of the the cold front and the next two approaching are said to be unpredictable due to the fact that we are neither in an El Nino nor a La Nina cycle, but something in between. The swells sweeping in from the deep sea are set to rise to double the height they were last week when Dungeons provided such spectacular rides for the big wave surfers. Then they were 5-6m and the prediction is 8-9m.
The only good news is that it will be neap tide over the weekend which should help to keep shoreline damage to a, hopefully, containable level. The houses built on the rocks on the Atlantic Seaboard of Cape Town may be in for a bit of a springclean.

All this is a far cry from my blog of two days ago! But that's Cape Town for you...

The end of a fun week

The end of an interesting and very different week. On Monday and Tuesday, I did some work. On Wednesday, I made my first speech at Toastmasters (my real first speech was at their Breakfast Club with only 7 or 8 people in attendance, which makes it really easy) and am gratified to say that it was considered extremely funny (Seinfeld, don't worry about a comeback - lol). On Thursday we made up a team for the quiz night at the pub and we won! We donated our winnings, despite initial protests from me, to the Kommetjie Green Fund, which is a project providing a habitat for the Western Leopard Toad and various forms of aquatic life in a re-established marshland. A great deal of dedicated work has been undertaken by our local eco man, fondly known as Wally Baboon, who can be seen hard at work counting tadpoles, and great results are already apparent. We have specifically requested that our donation be used to purchase a pygmy hippopotamus for the pond, as we feel this will be a great tourist attraction and enable us to raise funds for a lodge in the milkwoods.

As you know, Friday was taken up with an extended lunch for National Women's Day, where it was all Diamonds and Bling. Great partying took place as the day drew to a close, I hear, although I chose to leave before sunset to take the dogs for a walk. The next morning, a group of 22 turned up unexpectedly for breakfast, which was wonderful for the restaurant, but hard going for the hung over! There are plans to do it all again in September.

Today we took a spin round Cape Point in the Mini. I am told it is not for shopping, as the locals are inclined to let their car doors fly open in the fierce winds that blow across the Fish Hoek valley and he doesn't want the doors dented or the paint scratched when it is parked at the shopping centre. He has a point there. No-one ever leaves a note to apologise or offer to pay the R3 000 or so damage to the cars. Fish Hoek is famous for it. If you don't want to be one of the guilty parties, always park with the headlights facing the oncoming wind so that your doors can't fly open, only closed. Anyway, I digress...

We had an ice cream at the Simon's Town waterfront and took a stroll along the jetty, as if we don't already see enough boats! Then we rode down to Cape Point and back home along the coast road. A lovely drive, not something you can get tired of.

So on the whole, a fun week. The big drawback was that the eating plan was thrown out the window due to circumstances beyond my control, and so from tomorrow it will be back to a very limited and strictly adhered to regime to get my digestive system back in trim!

What a life! Another magnificent day in Cape Town...

This summer weather continues unabated, but a week of winter lies ahead, I hear.

These two pictures, taken exactly a year apart, show just how difficult it is to predict any weather conditions in Cape Town. Never plan any major outdoor event without a Plan B, or even C, no matter what time of the year it is. Generally, winter is the best time, as the south easter which prevails mostly in the summer months can rip a tent to shreds, while a little gentle winter rain can easily be withstood. Don't party in low-lying areas, as a flash flood could spell disaster.  It also depends where you are on the Peninsula. If you are in Kommetjie, it is less likely to rain than in Newlands, which is in the shadow of Table Mountain and is the watershed for most rivers of the Cape Town area. Being on the edge of the sea here enables you to get a preview of the weather long before the other suburbs which nestle among the mountains. If you want to party outside tonight, I can safely say you'll be fine! 

Below are the views of the sunset looking towards the back table and out to sea. You can see that some bad weather is approaching, so make the best of it!

A great day for women

What a day! National Women's Day was celebrated in style at our local restaurant/coffee shop, Espresso Dotkom, under the auspices of Patsy, Pat and Lesley, who provided an extremely tasty 3-course lunch for 65 of us ladies who enjoy supporting local businesses and local charitable organisations. Prizes were won, the sun shone all day and the talented Gary (don't know his other name) provided outstanding background music and saxophony!

The theme for the ladies' lunch was diamonds and bling and we sure rose to the occasion. Over-the-top outfits, wigs and blinding flashes of bling were the order of the day. Old friends met up again and new friends were discovered among an atmosphere of good old-fashioned fun, and the proceeds - admirably - went to the HOPE organisation which rescues ill-treated dogs and finds them new homes. A large amount of dog food was donated and a Yorkie found a home where it will be cherished.

In the late afternoon, a friend and I took my dogs for a walk down to the lighthouse and along the lawns. The sun was setting and every man and his dog was out enjoying the balmy air and the spectacular scene before us - the sea has settled to a dead calm after more than a week of immense waves - the contrast in such a short time never ceases to amaze me. At low tide, it looked as though someone had pulled the plug out as all the rocks in the bay were exposed, but the Kom lawns still held the evidence of yesterday's new moon high tide, with a high water mark littered with jetsam and kelp.

As the sun set, the tiny crescent moon, accompanied by brilliant Venus, hung suspended overhead, the perfect ending to a quite perfect day.

The speech contest

Well, that was a fun evening! Our Toastmasters Club held its annual Humorous Speech and Impromptu Speech contests last night, and I can't say when I last laughed so much! There are so many talented people in the club, and in fact the competition was won by the lady who came 2nd in last year's International Toastmasters' Speech contest in the USA, no small achievement for someone who had only made six speeches at the club before entering that competition! So I don't feel bad having lost to her, or the other four contestants. In fact, I entered by mistake, not really taking in the word 'contest' when reading the email that invited members to tell their funniest stories. It has never been my intention to compete at Toastmasters, but someone must come last and I don't mind if it's me.

For weeks I knew what I was going to say, but hadn't formulated the actual wording of the story. As the time drew nearer, I thought I had better write something down. So I did. And then again, slightly differently. Then I practised saying it into my cellphone voice recorder. Horrors! I sounded dreadful. Well, too late to change a lifetime of poor diction - I started again, but this time the words were all different as I thought of new aspects of the story. And a third version came up.

Two days before the contest, I decided to write an opening paragraph and a closing paragraph which would tie it all together and tried to memorise them, as advised in the Toastmasters manual. (I was also going to be evaluated on the speech, as part of my journey to being a Competent Communicator!) Every time I practised that, again the words were different. I was getting a bit nervous, particularly as I knew the high standards against which I would be compared. But in for a penny, in for a pound...

The night of the contest arrived and we were all told the rules (!) particularly the bit about it being original material. I didn't like to mention that it was original every time I said it - it wouldn't do to look as though I hadn't prepared. The first few contestants did their thing and I groaned inwardly as I joined in the laughter at their really clever and obviously well-prepared offerings. And then it was my turn...

I stood before the audience and said my opening paragraph...

And suddenly it was like a movie running through my head - an action movie filled with drama and whodunnits and would the good guy win. The audience seemed to like it, as they laughed seemingly most of the time. I tried to remember all the important bits like making eye contact with each member of the audience - a difficult thing when they are all just a blur, and the time just raced by. I said nothing that I had planned and the rather staid and stilted practice into the cellphone was a million miles away as I demonstrated the action bits. When I came to the end, I couldn't remember what I had planned to say and didn't quite meet the requirements of the manual in that regard, but I had such fun giving the speech that I really didn't care!

A south-easter and a speech

For the last two days we have had traditional winter weather in Cape Town - soft, soaking rain with no wind. It's been years since we've had that - it seems the norm has changed to individual clouds moving in from the south west and dumping bucket loads in three minutes rather than over three hours! The wind has swung round to south east, as is also traditional after rain, bringing blue skies and freezing temperatures up from the South Atlantic - next stop Antarctica!

The passing cold front brought with it some mountainous seas for the world's big wave surfers to enjoy a ride or two at the famous or infamous Dungeons reef off the Sentinel at Hout Bay. There's something rather special about living in a place where nature's power and beauty are so renowned. It enables us to appreciate it day after day without having to travel anywhere. The waves were so big that I could see the spray coming off them all the way across the bay from my house in Kommetjie - with the naked eye! And that is saying something.

The cold weather makes me want to snuggle under three duvets, but tonight I have to go and make a speech at Toastmasters. This will be my first in front of the whole club and it's a bit of an accident really. I volunteered to make a humorous speech without realising I was actually entering a competition, something I would rather steer clear of. But as it will count towards completing my first manual at Toastmasters and we are after all there to talk, I will hang in there. The speech will be about one of the more interesting baboon raids on my kitchen and I've told it many times over the years to friends and family, but every time I tell it, it comes out differently, so I have no idea how it will end up tonight. Wish me luck!

Behemoths on the road and the sea

Today I watched a man reverse a 26-wheeler, horse and double trailer into a side street in Kommetjie. He had taken a wrong turning and had started going up the twisting mountain road, which I doubt he would have negotiated - although on second thoughts, maybe he would have. But he wanted to turn in the Main Road and the only way was to reverse into an uphill side street and then drive forwards out of it again. These roads are probably the minimum allowable width for a  road and to see him reverse without a false move was amazing. I joined a group of labourers who were also admiring the driver's skills and we laughed at the immensity of the truck and the tiny speck of a driver who you could barely see looking out of the cab. It was truly the biggest truck I have ever seen. We all wondered, as he pulled into the Main Road, how he would avoid knocking over the litter bin which, as luck would have it, was on the very corner he was negotiating, and blow me down! but only the very last set of wheels mounted the kerb and the bin survived to gather litter another day.

Amidst much waving and cheering from his audience, the driver blew his horn as much in relief at getting out of a sticky situation as to acknowledge his fans! What skill - if only the taxi drivers had 1/100th of his ability!

And from giant trucks to giant waves...

This was the Outer Kom and Baby Pipes today at high tide.  The seaweed has washed onto the path and new moon is still two days away. Dungeons is performing quite well over in Hout Bay for the big wave mavericks, but over here in Kommetjie no-one is venturing out of the bay. I suppose it would be a recipe for broken boards and broken bones too! Better to be a little cautious and live to surf another day!

Spot the heron!

Lettuces and lemon trees

The lettuces below were planted in May and did nothing but die back through winter; now they are growing like there's no tomorrow! They must have Spring fever. There are quite a few varieties, such as mustard, rocket and so on (you can tell I don't know what!) and I left them growing in the punnets in a big container so that the roots could grow through. Most plants die on me once I transplant them so I thought I wouldn't court disaster and see what happened. The third photo shows the amount of greenery I can pick at a time every second day - enough for a very tasty salad! They are organic lettuces and I have now bought two more punnets and will give them the same treatment. Hopefully will not have to buy any for a long time now.

It's another starry, starry night with no cloud or wind or moon to obscure the view of our tiny speck of the universe which is unparalleled at this time of year. Scorpius and Sagittarius are right overhead at the moment and a comfortable deck chair and a pair of binoculars will enable you to see the myriad globular clusters which populate these two constellations. A good-sized telescope will enable you to see planetary nebulae and far distant galaxies, although not in the detail or colour spectrum of the photographs we see via the various telescopes which are currently out there in space.

The new moon will be visible after sunset on Thursday, and judging by the high tide today, we are in for some upheaval along the Cape coast. It's a good time to get down to the beach and load up a sack or wheelbarrow (depending on how far away you live) with the large bamboo stalks of the kelp which breaks loose in strong tides and washes onto the rocks here in Kommetjie. Rinse off the salt and, while it is still moist, chop up with a spade or panga and dig into your vegetable garden or around trees, particularly a lemon tree, and see how your garden grows. Free from the sea.

Stuffed grapes!?

I'm browsing through an old (new to me) recipe book by the late Isabel Jones, a lady I always admired for her enthusiasm for both cooking and keeping the consumer informed of the ways in which retailers con us. Whenever I have a spat with the local supermarket, I fancy myself standing in her shoes, carrying on the tradition!

I came across a recipe (instructions, really) for, believe it or not, stuffed grapes. Now I have always maintained that life is too short to stuff a sardine, let alone a mushroom (although Isabel disagrees with my viewpoint), and the thought of stuffing a grape makes the mind boggle. Picture the scene:

First peel the grape (it will give a better texture when biting than if the skin is still on, I suppose). You are then left with a wet, very small piece of fruit which must then be de-pipped. This is achieved by inserting a hairpin into the hole where the stalk came out. You need glasses to locate a hole that size if you are of more advanced years. Once successfully de-pipped (remember there are two), you then fill a piping bag with a mixture of smooth cottage cheese, herbs and pepper. Then comes the fun part - grasp the grape between finger and thumb and pipe (yes, pipe!) the mixture into the hole that the pips came out of, leaving a neat rosette to cover the hole.

I would imagine it takes the better part of a day to make enough for a reasonable platter. If you smear the rosette, you can just wash it off under the tap and start again, presumably.Each grape then needs to be stood upright in a little cupcake holder such as you use for fancy chocolates.

I would have loved to be able to watch her demonstrate this.

Fast food and a bit of an emergency

The heady aroma of paraffin wafts gently through my house, a sure sign that the neighbours have lit up the braai at the end of an indian summer's day. I did it the easy way - throw some lamb chops in the pan on the gas, a few potatoes in the microwave and eating lettuce straight from the packet while it all cooks. A balanced meal in twenty minutes. Not really, but I didn't feel like cooking this evening! The neighbours will be putting the meat on just about now, while I'm back at my jigsaw puzzle.

He Who Can Fix Anything has retired for the night and is watching the motorsport channel. He has sliced his finger rather badly with the biltong cutter - anyone who has seen one of these guillotine-like pieces of equipment will be able to imagine its efficiency. Copious amounts of blood oozed out until I came to the rescue with the 'staaldruppels' - ferric chloride - which stemmed the flow. I took out the magnifying glass to read the label and was amazed to see it is used for the treatment of anaemia - here I am taking blackstrap molasses (uuurrrghh!).  Any doctors out there please let me know whether anyone still uses this stuff. I thought it was just for stopping bleeding in minor wounds.

Once again, I needed a degree to fight my way into the plaster wrapping, but eventually got it sorted out after a small altercation with the plaster itself - I describe this in detail in an earlier blog (Plaster Disaster), so won't repeat the sordid details today!

I hear that it will rain again in Cape Town, probably by Tuesday, and that it is going to bucket down for the rest of the week, so enjoy tomorrow, folks, while the good weather lasts!

Will it ever rain again?

We've all had to don our summer clothes in Cape Town for the last two days, but suddenly a bank of clouds has snuck in from the south and the temperature has dropped. Although no rain is forecast for a while, it's back to jerseys while still having to water the garden, as everything has become so dry it is literally wilting. I emptied the old fish pond with a watering can to water the potplants yesterday, dodging an unfortunate dead frog and a couple of snails floating on the surface. It's years since we had fish in it - a tree that sheds truckloads of leaves grew overhead and clogged it so badly that everything died and we just gave up. It's the bottom half of an old asbestos water tank and with new laws relating to the use (or not) of asbestos since we put it in, we haven't bothered to take it out of the ground - where would we take it to? So I think I will eventually just crack the bottom for drainage and fill it in one of these days and grow something that likes a bit of bogginess.

The recent renovation of Espresso.dotkom, our little coffee shop up the road where ladies lunch, has thrown our routine into disarray and our coffee dates have been few and far between, but now everything is up and running and we can renew our acquaintances. Most of us have taken the opportunity to do some much-needed freelance work and I was lucky enough to sell a number of paintings at the time, so it's time to replenish my stock with something new and exciting. I wonder what it will be?

I think this weekend will be taken up with more window refurbishment, so I doubt that it will be fun or relaxing, but I make up for that during the week when nobody's watching. It keeps everybody happy.

Favourite TV programmes - not mine!

After a spate of home invasions in the vicinity of our house, He Who Can Fix Anything has decided that I should investigate the cause of every barking dog in the neighbourhood. If an alarm goes off, he wants to know which house it is at, and if a car with a particularly noisy exhaust goes by in the street, he thinks I should know who is driving it. And all this from the comfort of his bed, where he reclines against suitably plumped up continental pillows, surrounded by his doggies and the occasional cat, in the evening after dinner. The TV is on and he is watching Crime and Investigation, or Women Who Kill and his personal favourite, Disappeared.

He has an overactive imagination after watching these shows. He picks up on all kinds of incidents that he can relate to his household and says, Yes, Yes, you see... as if I am going to take some notice. I think he is on the lookout for tips on Women Who Kill (I tell him all the time that I have plenty of poisonous plants in the garden that I can grate into his food when I feel so inclined), but he would do better to rather treat me like a queen and move on to another programme, like the Dog Whisperer, where he can pick up tips on how to control your dogs!

Another favourite of his, Disappeared, relates stories of teenage girls who go out clubbing and are last seen leaving the club in the company of a strange man. He obsesses over the possibility that it could happen to his daughter, despite her not going clubbing (at least, not anymore) and the unlikely event of her picking up a stranger, but he trusts nothing and nobody, apparently.

But over the last few weeks, we have had a respite from the constant onslaught of murder and mayhem coming from the small screen, as he has discovered synchronised swimming. Who would have thought? Admittedly it is all very skilful and athletic and one can only admire the dedication of people who are prepared to practice for ten hours a day in a swimming pool (I cannot imagine what they look like when they come out!). He finds it so fascinating that he even stays awake till about 10pm, something not even motorsport (his first love) can inspire. He's usually asleep after the first three laps of a grand prix, although he never misses them.

The world championships for swimming in Barcelona are now over, so no doubt it will be back to the crime channels. Or even worse, cage fighting. Don't let me get started on that...