Highs and lows

Well, so much for Spring! The much-needed rain is upon us again and the electric blanket is still doing duty - can't believe it was so many years before I got one.
Monday's 'supermoon' (only 14% bigger but 30% brighter), combined with a lunar eclipse, sucked the sea up along the Peninsula coastline in a magnificent display of the power of water. Despite there being no storm conditions, the harbourside restaurants in Kalk Bay were once again flooded as the waves smashed through the windows where only a week before we had enjoyed a wonderful dinner overlooking the floodlit rocks. Then the waves only splashed a light foam against the windows, but we know the destruction that is regularly visited upon these buildings when a gale force southeaster blows. The only form of mopping up that could take place was to open all the doors and just let the sea flow straight through. It was only a drop in the ocean compared to the tsunamis experienced in the East and we can be grateful to have never yet suffered such an ordeal. It wouldn't take too much of a wave to sweep across the densely populated Cape Flats which were once part of the seabed anyway.
This morning it looked as though the plug had been pulled out and the bay near my home was more rocky than watery. When high tide rolled in at 4pm, it was a different story, although still nowhere near the levels we have seen in the past. Here are some photos to show the contrast.

Gecko guard

For most of my life I have had an abhorrence for wriggling, soft-bodied creatures - caterpillars, geckos, etc. The very thought of coming into physical contact with such a thing was enough to cause a convulsion. You know the type, when your whole body shudders and your arms and legs splay in all directions - a strange movement which must be rooted in some ancient caveman activity which we have long forgotten, signifying revulsion.
However, since the advent of Mango Kitty and Mr Bigglesworth, the gecko population of this household (quite impressive, and allowed due to their usefulness as insect catchers) has become endangered. Every night the cats play in the passage with their latest victim and it's no longer safe to walk barefoot in case I stand on a grossly wriggling detached tail or even worse, the rest of the gecko. The only way to protect and save these vulnerable creatures is to pick them up and take them back outside, and as always, the job falls to me.
So I have spoken sternly to myself and reminded me that all fears can be conquered simply by changing the way you think, and I have told myself that I have absolutely no problem picking up geckos, although the separated tail is still a work in progress! They are very gentle creatures and are only too happy to climb onto an outstretched hand. They are extremely cold to the touch and once they have a grip on you, are impossible to prise off. Now I know how they stick to the ceiling above the bed - no fear any more that they will lose suction and drop onto my face!
The same philosophy can be applied to anything in life, but I think that it was made easier by the necessity to be a lifesaver, rather than let them die in the clutches of the cats!

Luck on my side, sort of

Living here in Kommetjie where life is casual and relaxed, it is easy to fall into the habit of wearing loose, comfortable clothing and old, well worn-in shoes. A visit to the local mall will provide evidence that many who live in the south Peninsula are of similar bent, although I draw the line at tracksuit pants. And so when the opportunity arises to step up my game and pull on the skinny jeans, high-heeled boots and figure-hugging shirt with all accessories - scarf to waft delicately, earrings, necklace, red lipstick - I go the whole hog (well, maybe not quite, but enough to elicit comment).
Such an opportunity occurred this week when I went to Claremont and had to park at Cavendish Square. Eagerly anticipating a stroll through its marbled halls and perhaps popping into a shop or two, I was ready to go well before the time to leave. Somewhat distracted by last-minute paperwork and awaiting a visit from a caller who would be collecting something from me, I slipped out of my slippers (I don't wear shoes in the house as a rule) and into my running shoes. (Technically only used for walking.) This was because I would be meeting her in the driveway and the ground was damp. Having concluded the business, I was now running late, so I dashed inside, grabbed my bag and drove off.
Forty minutes later, I eased into a parking place right next to the lifts, opened my door and delicately placed my old-running-shoe-clad foot on the concrete. So much for the sexy high-heeled boots.
I adjusted to my fashion faux pas without too much distress. After all, if I hadn't had to go outside to meet the woman, there is little doubt that my footwear would have been my German felt slippers, big toes peeping out. Would I have continued through the mall, along the street and into the office if I had been in my slippers? Probably!

Dodge those demos

Is it only me, or do none of the 'miracle' products demonstrated at expos and flea markets only work for the demonstrator?
I have a drawer full of vegetable peelers that can do everything except cook the food - slice, trim, de-eye, julienne, radish roses, chips, etc. But all I can manage is to scrape off the outer skin rather inadequately, mainly because the implement is not a shape that easily fits into my hand and is perhaps better wielded by a man. The cutting blade is so sharp as to be positively dangerous, and yet I cannot buy a kitchen knife that can slice a tomato. I can finely shred my nails and finger tips, but struggle with peeling potatoes. And as for the 'attachments' that make these peelers even more versatile, say no more. I defy anyone to remember what they actually do by the time they get home.
Another scam is the cleaning lotion that will turn the filthiest pots and ovens into sparkling new condition. You think that your oven doesn't remotely resemble the charred, grease-encrusted bit of metal that the man is demonstrating the product on. When you try it at home, absolutely no results! My favourite way of cleaning stubborn ovens is to buy a new one!
I am determined to no longer stop to watch any demonstrations, no matter how smooth-talking and charming the young man is, although I can only admire their skill in persuasiveness and public speaking (there must be a better career out there). I am absolutely certain that the product will not work for me. I have a cupboard full of proof!

Sail away

The forecast for a strong southeaster didn't materialise today, and not even a wisp of cloud draped itself over the peaks of the mountains. There may have been places in the Peninsula where the leaves rustled, but not here under the lighthouse. It's dependent on exactly what angle the wind is blowing at whether it affects us or not. But a few hundred metres out to sea it was blowing in full force, judging by the yachts that I glimpsed sailing by.
The first was a very small yacht, perhaps not something you would wish to cross an ocean in, but I have no doubt the people on board were enjoying a pleasant day's sailing.

The next yacht was a different kettle of fish (or cut of its jib) as it hove into view almost on its side! The wind had picked up by then and developed a little chop and a number of crew members were doing duty providing counter weight on the windward side. Suddenly it yawed and I thought it was going to ship water, but all ended well and the helmsman corrected the course. It disappeared in no time and I reflected that they were probably enjoying the ride because of the conditions, rather than in spite of.

Kommetjie has it all

For those who aren't able to drive up the West Coast to see the daisies, look no further than Kommetjie. Under the lighthouse and in every patch of open ground you will find carpets of white, with yellow daisies starting to appear among it, and startlingly bright patches of pink where the bokbaai vygies are in bloom. Combined with the invigorating sea air to be enjoyed while walking on the boardwalk or around the coastline to Long Beach, this little paradise is right on your doorstep.

Birdlife is abundant and varied, with special visitors to the Kom from time to time - flamingos. We have otters if you know when and where to look, and even the caracal can be seen along the mountain road on the odd occasion. Reptiles in all forms lie on the rocks, soaking up the sun, but darting out of sight if disturbed.
Surfing, kayaking, bodyboarding and SUPing can be indulged in almost 365 days a year, and hang-gliders hover overhead when the southwester visits. The Hoerikwagga Trail has a camp at the foot of Slangkop near the lighthouse where you can overnight while walking the trail through the Table Mountain National Park.
With many B & Bs to choose from and pubs and restaurants providing excellent sustenance, this remains a destination of choice for many overseas visitors, and a sought-after residential area for those looking to escape the rat race, but with easy access to a fractionally faster lifestyle over the mountain.

Having special times

Isn't it funny how unplanned events can be some of the best times? Yesterday I dragged myself away from the computer to do a few essentials at the mall. As I passed my favourite coffee shop under the milkwoods at the end of my road, I spotted a friend's car and decided to join her for a quick coffee before heading out of Kommetjie. In no time at all, another friend had joined us and five of us lolled in the sunshine, feet up on the benches, enjoying each other's company with much loud laughter and stimulating conversation. It wasn't long before other patrons disappeared - in fact, even the waitron didn't come back. Perhaps no one wanted to disturb what was obviously a good time being had by all.
The time passed and every so often I would dig in my pocket and drag out a short list (four items) of what I was supposed to be doing and mumble about really needing to go to the mall and actually having a lot of work to do. This would be greeted by catcalls and raucous laughter and the scrap of paper would go back in the pocket.
Eventually lunch was had and as early afternoon drew on, we dragged ourselves away from the sunshine and off to complete the day - needless to say, I didn't go to the mall; that awaits me still.
The point of this story is that one should never pass up the opportunity to spend time with people who make you laugh, empower you, make you feel good about yourself and where you are going with your life and have really interesting things to talk about. The mall, the shopping, the work can all wait a little longer - they will all be there later. But the moments with good friends should be savoured and used to restore the soul.

Peace and quiet

A calm and gentle day in Kommetjie today. The air is comfortably cool and the sun bearably warm. White puffy clouds scud across a pale blue sky, and a swallow has just flown by, the second I have seen in the last week, so maybe it does make - perhaps not a summer - but at least a nudge into spring.

The fragrant buddleia is almost in full bloom and its heavy scent, which regrettably cannot be attached to this blog, is the most wondrous thing. As I stand here on the deck, my senses are filled with the joys of nature at its very best and I can only feel hope and positivity for the world as I observe that it is only Man that has a problem with enjoying life.
I can only say that when one is feeling the weight of the world, some quiet time under a tree or walking next to the sea with a conscious effort to clear your mind of any thoughts, whether good or bad, happy or sad, is a restorative process that is free and available to all. Try it.

A most peculiar day

A dark purple sky stretched behind me as I sat in the traffic this morning on an infrequent trip into the office. For apparently no good reason, the line of cars had come to a halt and we crawled three kilometres in 20 minutes. From a certain spot, it seemed that there was no obstruction to the traffic and we all sped up to an almost respectable 40km/hr for a while. I can only imagine that one of the multitude of unroadworthy cars driven by unlicensed and inept drivers had coughed to a halt, rested awhile and then rejoined the traffic which had backed up due to the narrowness of the road. I was immediately reminded of why I work from home.
A similar situation occurred on Ou Kaapse Weg, where the traffic from a side road feeds in. Someone must have been travelling slowly enough to allow a car to take the gap and, as is always the case, not accelerate adequately to keep the traffic flowing smoothly. This disruption of the main traffic flow needs to be regulated by something - either a roundabout or a traffic cop (too dangerous) - before some serious road rage incident takes place. Not for nothing does the South Peninsula have a reputation for short tempers - we must have the highest incidence of shockingly ill-mannered and incompetent drivers per square kilometre than the rest of Cape Town, and this is aggravated by having only three roads out of the area - one a toll road which is iniquitous, the mountain pass referred to, which can block traffic for hours in both directions if a single car breaks down, and the main road route via Kalk Bay to Muizenberg, which has had road works for four years now and operates a stop/go system that can hold you up for 20 minutes and more, day and night.
But I digress...
As I looked in the rear view mirror, a bolt of blue streaked across the sky and the South Peninsula was treated to a thunderstorm of note. The hot berg wind that had blown all night had given way to a strong southwester and temperatures had dropped, but on the other side of the mountain the berg wind was still tossing the branches of the trees and gusting up and down alleyways. By midday, large raindrops battered the windows of the office building and all was grey and blustery. I left the building on the other side and it was still a warm, dry wind with the sun breaking through in patches of blue. I almost walked around the building to see if it was still wet and cold on the other side!
Back home, the thunder and lightning had come in for another session and there was no distinction between sea and sky - it was like peering into a dark smudge from whence a gale blew. Altogether a most peculiar day.

Cape Town delivers a perfect day

The Cape Doctor took pity on us and stayed away today, probably because everyone was juicing apples like crazy! The day dawn overcast but soon cleared sufficiently for us to view the partial solar eclipse through our special eclipse viewing spectacles that were dished out by a national assurance company about 20 years ago - I have kept them in a drawer all these years, so that at the drop of a hat, or shadow of an eclipse, I know exactly where they are. It is about the only thing that is always where I expect it to be. As the sky didn't dim, I am sure the majority of the population let the event go by unnoticed, and as is the case, the earth continued to turn and we all just got on with our day.
Today marks the beginning of Rosh Hashanah and in Jewish households around the world, the kitchen is full of the aroma of the traditional dishes that mark the two-day celebration. I have always wondered about these traditional dishes and today I had the opportunity to participate in the preparations and sample some of the delicacies. I can state that gefilte fish is absolutely delicious and not at all what I expected it to be. The inclusion of apples and honey at the meals came in the form of a huge dish of caramelised apples, beautifully prepared in cored rings - a feast for the eyes - and topped with a light and buttery crumble.

The meat was the biggest prime rib I have ever seen - the browning was a mission in a large pan but the aroma of the spices as it was turned again and again filled the kitchen with the promise of a veritable feast tonight! The challah bread appeared magically from a bowl of perfectly risen dough, punched down and swirled and baked to a golden fragrant loaf while we picked fresh vegetables and flowers in the garden. A wonderful morning learning new things.
The afternoon was spent relaxing back at home with visitors who dropped in and joined our evening meal (a braai - what else in this weather for those not celebrating the Jewish New Year), followed by some gentle gardening and a little quietude on the deck as the sun descended into the sea.
Yes, a perfect day.

Cape Doctor in full force

We're being blown to Brazil! The southeaster is raging through the Peninsula as a foretaste of summer to come. Does the wind blow like this anywhere in the world, I wonder, with the ferocity and gale-force gusting that can last for days and make trees grow parallel to the ground, snap huge branches off gum trees as if they were twigs, and even overturn trucks? I think they refer to such winds as hurricanes elsewhere, but we just say summer's here.
No wonder everyone gets irritable, as hairdos are gone with the wind, tresses are tangled in more knots than you'll find in a fishing net, and loose clothing heads skywards. It's enough to blow the feathers off a flamingo!
The sea birds on the rocks are huddled beaks to the wind, their inbuilt aerodynamic apparatus, while a few terns are being tossed on the thermals, enjoying the random flight.
The new growing tips of the bougainvillea have been battered against the roof and are lying all over the lawn - fortunately this will encourage branching and renewed growth - it is said that bougainvillea thrives on a good bashing! The only positive garden outcome is that all the leaves have been blown off the brick paving, leaving it looking neat and tidy and relieving someone of sweeping duties!
The house is rocking on its stilts with the strongest gusts and we often wonder how it is still standing. I think the only thing keeping us together is the fact that all the pillars are inside, although the bracing was removed years ago to make place for inside walls (hmm....I wonder).
It's times like this when I understand why we still have the family home on the southeaster-free slopes of Clovelly!

Catch a wave!

I'm privileged to live at the edge of a bay at a world-famous surf spot (Outer Kom, Inner Kom, Baby Pipes, etc) and can go down to the rocks at any time and watch the surfers of all ages and skill levels riding the wave. I normally take my cellphone and snap a few pics, but today I took the real camera with zoom lens. Of course, I settled down in front of a row of tripods and really real cameras with zoom lenses the length of my forearm - hopefully I was low down enough on the rocks not to obscure their view, although they were enjoying a bit of socialising and I doubt whether they were even looking. I'm sure they would have asked me to move.
The only problem with facing the setting sun is that it is always in front of you and squinting with one eye into the viewfinder can be eye-watering as I have to close the other eye to avoid the glare. I reckon a photography course will help with getting the settings right, but in the meantime, I just enjoy the freedom of the digital era where there is no limit to the number of pics you can take (unless the batteries run out) and five random shots out of a hundred will be more than satisfactory.
Perhaps I should take up a sideline career of surf photography. What better place to work than next to tumbling waves, with the invigorating odour of freshly turned kelp and the warmth of the sun on your face?

Battle of the birds

It's currently a battle of the birds, with nesting beginning for many species and additional food required. At least the nectar eaters are able to look after themselves, with an abundance of blossoms and blooms in the garden at present. This is what the sunbirds are after:

We feed mixed grain to the red-eyed doves, ring-necked and turtle doves and this has allowed them to breed uninhibitedly, providing a good source of food for the various sparrowhawks and occasional peregrine falcon swooping in over the treetops and scaring the birds out of their wits, scattering in all directions. Here is the newest juvenile black sparrowhawk resting after another unsuccessful hunt,while a young pintailed whydah observes him from a nearby twig:

The doves have now been joined by a large flock of guinea fowl and they all enjoy a scratch and peck among the scraps thrown out for the porcupine in an effort to keep him out of my garden:

Keeping a watchful eye on the avian activity are the ever-vigilant Mango Kitty and Mr Bigglesworth, who caught an airborne dove with a glancing blow this morning, releasing an avalanche of feathers, but apparently no fatality.

Sunbirds

There is a proliferation of sunbirds in the garden at the moment, with four of them flitting from flower to flower and shrub to shrub with such gay abandon that even the cats seem to have given up trying to catch them. Their joyous song starts before sunrise and continues until sundown and there is seemingly no end to their enjoyment of life.
I have been trying to take photos of their brilliant iridescence and spend hours rushing from front deck to back deck, identifying their situation by the twittering, but they are just too fast, and even when feeding on sweet nectar they barely stay still for five seconds. It's a great exercise in patience and perseverance!
This morning, as I bent down to photograph a flower, the familiar shouting came from a metre away on the other side of the railing. Of course the camera setting was wrong, but I snapped away and managed to get a few okay shots.

I like to think that one of the sunbirds is this little chap that I rescued twice in a week from the clutches of the cat last year!

Car-hire crisis

Tricky times when hiring a car in Europe - an extract from my travelogue, Gadding in Europe:

"At the car hire counter, we had our first document search. There would be many of these in the weeks to come. Dad and I can never find anything in our bags and always have to completely empty them. If anyone knows the solution to this particular failing, I would be happy to hear from you. Multiple pockets only compound our problem.

       I produced my international driver’s licence as required and then they asked for my credit card. No, said I, my father booked the car with his card. No, said they, the driver must pay. Where did they tell us that when booking online? So Dad produced his credit card, but they wouldn’t give him the keys because he didn’t have his driver’s licence with him. We were specifically told that you cannot hire a car in Europe if you are over 75 and we followed the procedure to ensure that I had the necessary documents.

       By sheer good luck, Dad found a copy of his temporary licence in his bag, which he had collected on the morning we left, having misplaced his licence a few days before. The car hire took a copy of that and assured us that there would be no problem if he wanted to drive. Who knows what would have happened if he hadn’t had it on him? They certainly had no interest in our problems (the second time at the same airport). It seems as though the rules are made up as they go.

       We hired a GPS just to be on the safe side, at an iniquitous €14 per day. Little did we know that it would be less than useful, as extensive roadworks have altered the landscape and the information loaded onto the GPS is out of date."

This was three years ago. Perhaps the procedure has become more user friendly!

Slightly reined in

I have driven a variety of cars over the years, my favourite being the old BMW 7 Series that was sheer driving pleasure, except when it had problems! Not for nothing are they known as BMTroubleyous. However, despite the trouble it gave me, it was a fabulous drive. But the thing I have really longed for over the last ten years is a car with power steering and airconditioning. I don't need anything else.
So I became the proud owner of a little runabout a month ago - I needed something to nip around the neighbourhood in with the two aforementioned requisites and we also need one car per person in this family as we are all going in different directions simultaneously. This previously loved runabout, sometimes disparagingly referred to as 'half a loaf of bread', fitted the bill admirably, except for one major drawback. The engine capacity is 999cc - this doesn't quite meet the requirements of my driving style, which I would refer to as 'confident' or 'decisive'. In other words, 'he who hesitates is lost' or 'take the gap'.
I've always been partial to pulling away from a Porsche or dicing an M3 at the robots - if I can make it to the other side of the intersection first then I'm happy! But there is no way that will happen with the new car. For the time being I will have to consider these my doddering days and be content with just getting to my destination without the thrill of the chase.
My rally driving days are temporarily over and I am in retirement, as is Sebastien Loeb. But if the opportunity presents itself in the form of a high-powered muscle car, it will be a-roadtripping I go!

Sneezing time

The eastern sky is beginning to lighten with the dawn, as I lie listening to the chug of the fishing boats heading out to deep waters. The stillness of the early hours brings an onshore drift of cool air. It promises to be another very warm day for this time of year, with a traditional Berg wind coming down to the coast from the high interior - a dry, hot wind that makes for a bad hair day - more electricity than is generated by Eskom!
The onset of the flower season has also brought another discomfort - hay fever! There is something about a hay-fever induced sneeze that is both satisfying and exhausting. It seems to start in the soles of the feet and rushes out exuberantly through the mouth, accompanied by a sound that varies from a delicate  and ladylike 'achoo' to a robust shout worthy of the grunts of the world's leading tennis players that can be heard by all the neighbours. Six or seven of those are the perfect start to the day, and that's before I've made my first cup of tea.
The accompanying drip of the nose, basically just water and nothing to be alarmed about, makes its appearance at the most inopportune moments - when you are bending down, planting seedlings with gardening gloves on and you don't have time to get out a tissue, so use the back of the glove, or even worse, at the till in the supermarket as you are scratching in your purse for a R2 coin while desperately sniffing that drip back in!
Fortunately this season is very short, otherwise I might have to resort to stuffing rolled up tissues in my nose and look like a walrus.

Nearly time for bare feet

Mother Nature has blessed Cape Town with an unusually pleasant easing into the Spring, with a southeaster strong enough to blow away smog, but light enough to keep away the heavy blanketing of cloud that can sometimes accompany the Cape Doctor. Clear blue skies stretching up and outwards forever have lifted everyone's spirits after the gloom of winter and there have even been a few mutterings about it being too hot. It's time to stow the winter woollies (leaving something for a cold snap!) and shake the dust off the sandals. No more socks to be separated forever, unmatched knee-his and closed shoes restricting our contact with the earth.
One of the most beneficial ways of connecting with the earth and casting off the pressures of the world is by walking barefoot - on the lawn, the beach, or jumping from boulder to boulder down at the lighthouse and paddling in the rock pools. I have always kicked off my shoes at the front door or first opportunity once I am home. The freedom of wiggling my toes after wearing shoes that are a fraction too tight can be bliss!
At the moment I still have my 'winter feet', which means they are soft and smooth and makes walking on gravel a little painful, but it won't take long to wear in a suitable summer sole!

Aerial activity

It's been an exciting day so far, birdwise. I spotted the flamingos early this morning through the gap in the houses between me and the Kom. Having not had much success photographically with the tablet, I took the real camera with me and sat on the wall at the Kom, snapping away at what were obviously slightly nervous flamingos. They couldn't decide whether to feed or not and kept advancing to the water's edge, then retreating, heads up, then heads down, very like the corps de ballet. Suddenly, a decision was made and they took flight, with me fumbling to track them (rather difficult when you're on zoom!). But the results were enough to make the heart beat faster and made my day!

Yesterday I found a pigeon that had flown into the window and broken its neck, so I put it out on open ground for the ravens to find and dispose of. Today they arrived and made short work of it.

While the crows were having lunch,  I noticed the remaining flock of pigeons circling in a panic, signalling the arrival of a raptor. This one was a juvenile black sparrowhawk and was determinedly chasing after one particular bird, but never quite made the kill. It settled in the gumtree to recover its stamina for another attempt later.

Die gezoem van die bye...

The garden is abuzz with bees busily doing what bees do best. There is literally a swarm in the coprosmas which are a mass of tiny green/white blossoms, ready to be pollinated and turned into juicy, sticky berries to sustain the fruit-eating birds through summer and into next winter. Nearby lavender bushes have also attracted their fair share (isn't English spelling marvellous?) of these hard-working insects, who are doing a fine job judging by the number of lavender seedlings growing all over the garden.

The clivias are putting on their best show ever, with 35 of these beauties in bud, with a promise of weeks of colour as they open one after the other.

The deep pink Indian hawthorne has survived another year despite a severe attack by a lawnmower and is always a joy to behold, while the lilac buddleia has burst open its first blossom - heaven scent!

Meanwhile, along the roadside, the white daisies are carpeting Kommetjie in floral snow - no need to travel long distances to enjoy the miracle of Spring's new life!