Kirstenbosch at its best

What a beautiful day for a walk in Kirstenbosch! Being pensioner's day, I got in for free, but only after the cashier used a calculator to work out whether I was 60! The mind boggles!
Naturally the place was packed with everyone over the age of 60, and in particular the ever-popular tearoom, where plates piled with waffles, scones, cream and berry coulis were being scoffed with glee! I was going to have a sedate grilled fish and salad, but weakened for an Eggs Benedict, which was excellent but far too much and a tad rich. To compensate for my gluttony, I set off for the upper reaches of these magnificent botanical gardens, dodging walking sticks and zimmer frames as best I   could.
But seriously, I have never been any good at climbing hills or stairs without stopping frequently to catch my breath (I have an aunt who is similarly afflicted and it has nothing to do with fitness), and even those who looked 20 years older than me took the climb briskly. Armed with hats, backpacks and stout hiking boots, they put me to shame as I slung my Guess handbag over my shoulder and plodded ever upward. At least I was wearing walking shoes!
The vistas were vast and the proteas and pincushions perfect. See for yourself!

 

Pampering the pooches

I’ve always been incredulous of people who spend vast amounts on fixing up their pets’ ailments, such as having pins put in a multiple breakage of a leg and various amputations, probably because mine have lived almost rudely healthy lives. Our first two cats, a brother and sister, lived to the age of 20, although it would have been kinder to let them go at 18, and the dogs are now both 17, with some serious old age ailments. Many have advised that they are past their sell by date and should go to doggy heaven, but wiser souls have informed me that they will let us know when they are ready to go. It is very difficult to make a decision to dispose of a pet that has been in the family for more than half of your children’s lives and particularly when they have given nothing but unconditional love and companionship (something often lacking in the human world).
A few weeks ago, blind Susie’s eye gave in and without hesitation we had it surgically removed rather than put her down, because she has the body and constitution of a young dog, but just blind. The result is that she is a perfectly content old dog living in the lap of luxury, and doesn’t even know she’s had her eye removed because she couldn’t see anyway.
For about 6 months we have been managing Monty’s perineal hernia (when I say we, you know that I am doing it!) through massage and diet but things came unstuck this week with the need for a surgical procedure that could occur at any time over and over.  So another decision was made, surprisingly quickly, to have the hernia repaired and castration (should have been done years ago and the culprit for the hernia). The vet said that when he first saw him he wouldn’t have considered an op, but after watching him sniffing energetically all over the surgery with the eagerness of a young dog and establishing that his heart was strong, he agreed that Monty still had an adventure or two in him.
Despite the costs being eye-wateringly high (the receptionist said “Brace yourself!”) when she gave me the bill, he is already showing remarkable progress despite his discomfort and I have no doubt that we have made the right decision. It’s not about the money; it’s about the enrichment of our lives.

Crisp, sunshiny days

Third spectacularly still day in Kommetjie, the sea mirroring a cloudless sky, sparkling sunshine dappling the surface and unusually clear vision across the bay to the granite boulders lining the shore on the far side of Chapman’s Bay.
We forget that Cape Town can be a miserable place when the wind blows. It slips from our minds the instant the wind drops, and we once again live in the most beautiful place in the world. The light changes constantly in this intermediate season, from hazy heat shimmering against the cliffs of the Back Table, to today’s crisp view of all its chunky features.

The weathervane and palm trees indicate an onshore drift, bringing only the sounds of the anchovy boats chugging round and round, keeping us awake at night as they haul in these tiny fish, so important in the oceanic food chain and something that surely is slipping away from us as it is harvested so relentlessly. It’s not just the sound of the engines keeping us awake, but thoughts of our planet’s future. Mars is not for me.
Daisies do not appear to be endangered, as a white carpet decks most of the open spaces in Kommetjie, with the island particularly pretty this year. The yellow daisies are also widely strewn, and bright pink and white vygies splash their vibrancy in ever-spreading circles as the years go by. One can only hope that future developments do not rob us of these simple yet vital pleasures in life.

Taking to a tent

As I look back over the last few years, since I started my mostly daily blogging, I can see a pattern developing. Not only is the weather the same almost to the day, with seasonal fluctuations repeating themselves, but the very events and experiences repeat themselves. This leads me to conclude that life is just one great big repetitive cycle and we shouldn’t expect anything to change unless we make some major changes ourselves.
There are a number of ways to change our lives. The weather will change if we move location. The places we go to will change if we find other interests. Our outlook will change if we rethink our reactions to experiences. Perhaps this is why some people travel – it’s the easiest way to break the cycle of repetition. There’s no doubt that travel broadens the mind – you view things differently once you see how other cultures live.
This can’t be experienced in fancy hotels and resorts – these are isolated from the realities of daily living – and simpler accommodation in places off the beaten track can often be the most rewarding for authentic experiences. Luxury living soon palls (for me, anyway) and it isn’t long before I’m wanting to be in the kitchen cooking my own food rather than eating out. And there’s something rather unsavoury about having someone clean up after me in the bathroom (certainly for them) and using a vastly oversized, too thick bath towel when a threadbare hand towel is far more efficient and waterwise makes me feel I have left a tap running overnight when we are all urged to conserve our resources.
I’ll be taking things to the other end of the scale next month when I go to a Star Party at Bonnievale – only campsites are available and it’s a long time since I slept in a sleeping bag in a tent! It’s probably the wrong end of my life to start camping again, but it will certainly be breaking the repetitive cycle!

Bouncy dog

The individual suffering most from my indisposition appears to be Cleo. She is a very intelligent little dog and requires a lot of playtime and exercise, without which she amuses herself. Yesterday she chewed a piece out of the newly laid flooring on the balcony in a place that cannot be repaired. HWCFA has yet to discover this.
Today she chewed the cellphone charger cord into a gazillion pieces.

But her greatest source of delight is jumping onto me with a toy to be thrown incessantly in a game of 'fetch'. Do you know how exhausting it is to have a 10kg dog bounding boisterously up to your face while you are trying to lie quietly on your bed, not to mention the clouds of dog hair she is shedding as summer approaches? No wonder I thought it was hayfever and not flu!
I have spent the entire day throwing her toys through the doorway as far as I can and my aim has improved to such an extent that I could be considered for a position in the national cricket team. However, my enthusiasm for all-day games has not matched hers and I have had to close the door to keep her out.
Of course, this is what brought on the chewing...

Supine

It's three years since I was last felled by the flu, but I seem to have succumbed to what everyone else has. Head cold, straight to chest. HWCFA asserts that I must have caught it in a coffee shop, in which he thinks I spend an inordinate amount of time. Different strokes for different folks, I say. There could be worse ways to catch a virus.
So after a night of trying to sleep sitting up so I could breathe, the dogs all decided to join in the fray at 4am, one weeing on the mat (I wasn't about to go outside) and the other vomiting. The joys of pet ownership - it's lucky they are such nice doggies.
Having no need to get up,  I decided to take full advantage of the opportunity have total me time - Antiques Roadshow, Great British Bakeoff, Masterchef, Come Dine With Me ... now I'm all tv'd out and got it on music.
It's a vital part of life to take time off to vegetate and meditate. I can see the sea and ships going by, someone else is doing the minimal chores and I am indulging in some R & R. There's nothing to achieve by being on the go all the time. It's not a measure of success or self-worth, and we shouldn't have to be ill to have time off. I'm all in favour of lying in the shade of a tree staring out into space through its green canopy. It is all that is required to restore the soul and it costs nothing.
But today I am happy to cuddle under the covers.

The scent of Spring

Buddleia, brunfelsia and freesia. The intoxicating scents of Spring. The best plants in any garden are those that fill the air with sweet aromas, particularly on warm evenings such as this. The jasmine has covered an entire corner of the balcony and flowers for much of the year, but at present the purple blossoms hold sway while the jasmine buds still form.
A large moonflower guarded the entrance to the family home in Clovelly in my teenage years, well-named due to the scent only being released in the moonlight,
and it is unfortunate that they are poisonous and not suitable for domestic gardens, as I would definitely have at least one in mine.

Bright yellow mesembryanthemums are the stars in my Spring garden and I am working towards having the outside verge covered within as short a time as possible, if the guineafowl will permit. Their shiny petals never fail to bring a cheery tone to a dreary corner and some even flower through winter,  which is an added bonus!

Blowing in the wind

The first strong southeaster of the season pumped through Cape Town last night, reminding those from other parts of the country why they don't live here, and bringing welcome rain to the southern and eastern coasts. The mountains on the other side of False Bay bore a tablecloth of pure white tumbling clouds to match that spread along the upper reaches of Table Mountain, and all traces of the smog of the last few days blew away with the wind, revealing the majesty of the Cape mountains in the late afternoon sun.
I was unable to capture the scenery as I was driving alone and couldn't pull off the highway, so you will have to picture the scene in your minds, as you imagine me hurtling along in my half-a-loaf-of-bread along Nelson Mandela Boulevard, buffeted by the southeaster which is always strongest on this stretch of road and trying to enjoy the full panorama of windswept Table Bay, ships straining at their moorings, grey cliffs and white cloud and distant mountain ranges melting into the far distance. It's a view that never fails to invigorate me, as it heralds the beginning of summer, when the old is blown away to make room for new adventures and every new day is full of exciting possibilities.
Makes me want to go on a road trip! Who's coming?

New raptor comes to visit

I've turned my workstation around so that if I look up from the computer I can see out of the window. And not a moment too soon! This morning a movement caught my eye and blow me down! It was a juvenile raptor that I had never seen before landing on the peak of the neighbour's roof,  level with my line of view. I leapt up and grabbed the first camera I could find, my cellphone (probably the best choice), and ran to the window. I managed three quick shots before Cleo's frantic barking scared it off and then was lucky enough to catch it in flight. Mango Kitty was cowering on the deck without taking her eyes off it, obviously thinking she might be the object of its attention!
It was a substantial size and I sent out requests for id to a couple of birding sites on Facebook, where it was concluded that it was a juvenile gymnogene.  Exciting stuff! I hope it becomes a regular visitor - I have a good supply of food for it!

More rain, with a bit of sun

As we near the end of winter, we seem at last to be getting a bit of much-needed rain, with next week looking wet, after a surprisingly sunny weekend.  This is a racing weekend for He Who Can Fix Anything and it usually rains, so fortune is smiling on the current leader of the Fine Car championship. With only two more race days, it's looking promising for a win, although let me not put the curse of the commentator on it.
Today was a quiet day recuperating from my country break and also my carpal tunnel op, with sudden sharp twinges surging through the nerves as they restore themselves now that the restrictive tendons have been eased. Hopefully full use will be restored soon, as I have projects to get on with!
The new moon solar eclipse, combined with a cold front from the South Atlantic, have produced awesome seas off Kommetjie, with the biggest swells of the year, and perhaps a very high tide tonight. The sea lice have crossed the road and climbed the walls, so we will see how the lawns look in the morning!

Home comforts

After an extremely comfortable stay in an expensive country manor, it was delightful to arrive home to find a clean house, happy animals, dinner cooked and laundry up to date! And two vases of proteas on the kitchen counter! Well done, kids! Not a disappointment ever.
It's always good to get back home, no matter how enjoyable the time away - the comfort zone of one's own surroundings is so easy to slip into. Even better is the return to the sea and the crashing of the waves along the nearby shore. A cold front is in the offing - apparently the last for a while and we really need it - and the sea is rough and noisy, just the way I like it. The smell of the kelp is particularly strong, and so a short walk just now will be just the thing to clear away the cobwebs and resolve any sinus problems after the pollen of the countryside.
And of course there's nothing like sleeping on your own pillow!

Shower power

One of the hazards of staying in a B&B or similar is the unfamiliar shower operation. I haven't bathed for years and so am not at all enticed by a bath, no matter how ornately it is shaped or fitted with jacuzzi jets. The thought of lying in hot water after scrubbing off the dirt of the day fills me with faint revulsion. So the shower is the most important feature of any stay.
The shower at this lodge is impressive - fits four and has a showerhead the size of a deck quoit, which only those who have travelled on an ocean liner in the 60s will be able to visualise - and a properly sealed door (something that seldom occurs).
I stepped into the shower and turned on the hot tap until the heat had come through the pipe, then turned the cold tap to get a comfortable mix. Nothing happened, so I increased the pressure. Still nothing. Another turn. By the time I could step into the stream, I had used more than the recommended daily water usage, I reckon.
I reached for the shampoo. At least I thought it was. I couldn't read the writing (who wears glasses in the shower?),  and it was only after considerable effort at rinsing it out that I realised it was the shower gel. I reached for the other bottle and had the same difficulty in rinsing. This was conditioning shampoo, not the most suitable for my very fine hair.
Combined with this was a constant change in water temperature from ambient to freezing and back to boiling, necessitating constant leaps from under the shower while fiddling frantically with the taps.
All in all, a disastrous day for the dam levels.
Day 2 went better. I used my own shampoo and the taps behaved.

A splendid sight at twilight

The fog hugged the coastline today, not venturing ashore. It must have known that everyone is lusting after blue skies and sunshine after winter, albeit a fairly mild one. We are used to being in the fog here on the most southwesterly tip of southern Africa - Slangkop lighthouse. Mostly, we can drive a short way towards Fish Hoek and find ourselves in blazing sunlight, having left the grey and murky depths of clammy sea mist that we felt sure covered the whole of Cape Town.
Today the fogbank muffled the chugging of the fishing fleet as they went out in calmer seas after a week of heavy swells, and the mournful lowing of the foghorns gave the impression of a herd of cows on an ocean wave. The Afrikaans word for hippopotamus is seekoei - sea cow - but I don't know if this originated from sightings of these rotund animals along the seashore. Certainly there are none to be found here today, although that may be due entirely to Man's propensity for killing.
A lack of clouds didn't equate to blue skies, as an overall orange haze of smoke and dust from human habitation blankets the Cape on windless days, but this will give rise to a gorgeously hued sky at sunset as the last light clings to each particle and sends its reflection spinning out in all directions.
Look to the West at twilight and you will see Mercury above the conjunction of Venus and Jupiter, seemingly touching as they merge in our line of sight. Don't be alarmed. The distance is an illusion as Venus is 320 000 000km from us and Jupiter 900 000 000km! So no chance of a collision.

Friday Braaiday

I confess to not being much enamoured of the traditional braai, possibly because I prefer vegetables to meat and the accompaniments don't fit into this category. I've found a way around this and now make baked veg in the oven rather than salads, which can be rather harsh on the digestive system.

Charred chicken doesn't feature on my menu of choice either and perish the thought that someone should declare a coil of boerewors perfect when the skin is not crisp. I can say without favour or bias that my son is in the running for top braaimaster, as his skills at meat-turning are unsurpassed in my experience. No blackened boerewors or scorched sosaties will come off his grid and the rest of us can just loll in the shade while he sweats it out for our gastronomic pleasure.

This evening was the culmination of a very warm day brought about by a berg wind drifting down to the coast from the inland plateau, and it would have been a crime to cook indoors. To live in these surroundings, under milkwood trees bursting with fresh green growth, with the warm pink glow of the setting sun on the rocks of the Slangkop headland, must surely be one of life's greatest pleasures.

Abundant clivias

The clivias are in flower at last! Large clumps of these hardy plants form the basis of my shade garden and they all flower at slightly different times and thrive or not according to how happy they are. One area in particular is beset by snails and they are decimating the blooms, but as an anti poison practitioner, the solution is hand picking and either throwing them onto the lawn for the birds or tossing them over the fence - the usual solution! Today they left thick slime in my palm by way of some small revenge - difficult to remove without the use of my other hand but interesting to get first-hand experience of how they glide so effortlessly across the roughest terrain.
I just love the boldness of these plants, with dark green, strappy leaves that are a feature on their own, and the gorgeously hued apricot of the blooms. Even the seed pods are a colourful addition to the sombre winter garden as they turn from green to scarlet. I harvest them each year, scattering a few among the existing plants and potting the rest for replanting or gifts in a few years' time. There are probably 70 or so plants self-propagated from the original 10 given to me by mother and sister. A gift of plants must be the most welcome for me.

Night sky delight

The presence of 5 naked eye planets in the night sky over the last few weeks has provided spectacular viewing for those who enjoy such pastimes. Mercury, Venus and Jupiter are currently doing a celestial dance near the western horizon just after sunset, and last night’s asterism was particularly attractive. Venus and Jupiter will move closer to each other until the 27th when they appear to almost touch – an event to look out for.

Mars and Saturn are moving through Scorpius and form a bright trio with the red giant, Antares. This constellation lies in the line of sight of the centre of our home galaxy, the Milky Way, which appears as a fuzzy band of light currently from south to north across the zenith, in reality billions of solar systems, nebulae and dust. And our galaxy is a fairly insignificant one among billions of others in the known universe.
It’s always good to go outside and take a look upwards and outwards as far as our limited visual capacity will allow, to put our world into perspective.

Independence

It’s only been 10 days with the cast on, but already I can appreciate how valuable independence is. Freedom to get in your car and drive to the shops for a few groceries, or to have coffee with a friend, or just to drive aimlessly for a change of scenery. This is the freedom that is taken away from the elderly when they become too infirm to drive themselves, or become a danger to other motorists simply due to the lessened capabilities that come with old age. What a devastating thing it must be to have it snatched away from you with no hope of retrieval.
Having to depend on others for your transport is not a question of calling on their kindness. There are very few people who don’t have most of their time already pretty much accounted for and no matter how close the relative or dear the friend, they are entitled to a feeling of imposition when asked to travel some distance for an unspecified length of time. It is a great opportunity for growth of the soul to be of service to others, but we remain bound by the ego no matter how hard we fight it; it’s part of being human. And there is nothing worse than being beholden to another, which often holds back a call for help. So any act of kindness, no matter how begrudging, will benefit the giver and the receiver.
We should bear this is mind when we come across a situation where such service will be immeasurably appreciated by someone in need, and particularly the elderly. After all, we are on the same path and will have to rely on the kindness of others at some stage. We are all one.

Mellow day

It’s one of those quiet, sunny days redolent of early summer, here in late winter Kommetjie. Golden Oldies (60s and 70s) take one back to a different time when the world seemed less cruel. Outside my window, birds, bees and butterflies flit as spring flowers burst their buds far earlier than I remember from the past, and a balmy summer breeze ruffles the trees. This is all set to change tomorrow, with strong wind and rain forecast as we start to change seasons.
The mood is mellow, like the sunlight, and music and birdsong are the only sounds. Soul food.
Sparkling sea glitters through the branches of the ancient milkwoods in front of me, a tiny shore break lapping white against the rocks of the island on the other side of the bay. Spiny lizards laze languid on the rocks, among splashes of snow white daisies and the bright electric pink of the Bokbaai vygies dotted in the dunes.
Even the dogs are basking.

Blooming good time!

Every year I look at the photos of the West Coast flowers and think, ‘I must go and see them’. Of course, nothing happens unless you make it happen, so a friend who shares this sentiment checked the weather report (seldom correct, so who knows why) and yesterday we set off for the West Coast National Park and Postberg Reserve near Langebaan. No warning was given about coastal fog and we left Cape Town in the gloom, reassuring ourselves that it would burn off in no time and the flowers don’t open before 11 anyway.
We stopped at a number of roadside farm stalls – what’s a road trip without a farm stall or three? – and diverted to the coast at Yzerfontein, where the fogbank obscured the view nicely, but the verges and gardens in the town were quite spectacular. A quick visit to the Padstal at the turnoff revealed that one’s perspective of an experience is always coloured by the viewpoint of the company you are in, and so my enjoyment of the large aviaries of exotic parrots and macaws was slightly less than last time.  It is of course never good to see them in captivity, but they are there and cannot return to their habitat.

 
Arriving at the park, we were pleased to find only a few cars at the gate and were soon on our way, seeking the fields of blazing colour per the photos. It took a while, as it must be remembered that the low scrub hides most of the flowers and previously cultivated land or more barren areas produce the best displays. Wonderful mass blooming covered the slopes of the granite outcrop near Langebaan where the firewatcher’s hut is, and the panoramic views from the top across the lagoon are magnificent, particularly when there is no fog. The hut contains information boards full of interesting facts on the archaeological history of the area, and a visit to the West Coast Fossil Park near Langebaan is a must.
After a satisfying and traditional denningvleis pie and Malay chicken curry under the trees at Geelbek, the restored Cape Dutch homestead, it was time to brave the fog and see what could be seen at Postberg. What a wondrous sight met us at the end of a fairly long drive along this ancient outcropping – miles of white, orange and blue flowers dancing in the breeze, unconcerned by the lack of sun and opening their petals to welcome thousands of bees. Mention must be made of the scent from these millions of flowers, which wafted in the air as if a giant pot of honey had been opened and scattered across the land. No wonder the bees were so busy!
Heading back to Cape Town, a few kilometres down the road from the park we passed an amazing sight! About a dozen giraffes browsing on a hillside, the trees a little low for their necks and maybe not quite what they are used to. Rather inapt name on the gate, Buffelsfontein. It is a private game reserve and looks like being well worth a visit.
Another trip to the Darling area will have to be made in a few weeks’ time when the bulbs come into their own in myriad forms and colours. Be sure not to miss a thing!

Barefoot in the garden

Hooray! Shoes off and barefoot in the garden! How I loathe the restriction of footwear, despite understanding the necessity at times, such as winter and water. There’s nothing to beat the feeling of soft grass underfoot, or the late afternoon warmth of the bricks outside the front door, except maybe dangling your feet in the icy Atlantic as you perch on a rock watching the sun sink from view at the end of another day in paradise.
A stroll around the garden to check on all the plants revealed that nature is doing what it does, just carrying on with life without a care in the world, adapting to climatic conditions much as we do with the use of clothing and footwear. New growth and flowering are in accordance with the capabilities of each plant and I don’t think I have ever encountered a plant that died from too many flowers or even no flowers at all for a season.
I think that even the buds are beautiful and are worthy of photographs.

 

Stragglers and strugglers

The sacred ibis straggled overhead in an untidy flock this morning. They are usually ranked with military precision in a neat V, with a definite sergeant in charge, but I think today they were surprised by a sudden breeze from the south east as they rounded Slangkop. The onset of early spring caused an upset as the leader peeled off to settle at the Kom and the rest flapped aimlessly for a while before a rag-tag regrouping. These birds provide an endless source of wonder and amusement as the sun peeps over the horizon each morning.

A walk along the boardwalk at 4.30 was a mistake, despite it being a gorgeous, balmy evening, pre-sunset. The world and his dogs had the same idea and the congestion on the narrow path along the bay, together with rough-and-tumbling pooches entangling in everyone's legs made for a hazardous excursion.
But what a privilege to live in this beauteous corner of the pale blue dot!

No pain, no brain

Imagine lying on the bed for 3 days! Unheard of. Turns out the pain medication is a bit strong for someone who takes one panado in 5 years! Makes my head spin as if I've had a bottle of wine (again, someone who has half a glass every 6 months!), so a good excuse for the supine state. So it seems I have a low tolerance for medication, and fortunately a high pain threshold, and only took the minimum dosage, but that still took 24 hours to wear off and get the mind back in focus. 

I've been advised not to drive while the cast is on and that is advice I will take, as my personal chauffeur is always handy, while I am not, so to speak. How we take our health for granted, and particularly the full use of all limbs and faculties! It's good to be reminded how easy life is and how much I have to be grateful for. Temporarily losing the use of a hand makes me far more thoughtful of the challenges life can bring and what tenacity and courage is required to overcome and conquer the loss of a vital organ or limb, particularly in the face of negative reactions from others.

Society needs to change. We need to understand that there is no 'perfect' or 'imperfect', just many variations on the human form and that no one is better than another in the greater scheme of the universe. 

The painkiller must have worn off! Will expand on this theme later.

Waiting in hope

As I lie supine on my bed, staring at the puffy white clouds scudding across a pale blue sky, it dawns on me that the other residents think that this 6-star hotel runs itself. No-one took the dogs outside at 5.30. They weren't given their medicine and food at 6.30. No tea appeared on my bedside table until 2 requests for room service had been submitted electronically and then verbally. No breakfast was offered.
Cleo has been given free rein to bounce all over me with a variety of toys since 5.45 and I have now closed the door so she can stare balefully at me from the other side of the glass. She desperately needs some exercise and playtime. Perhaps later.
I've sent for room service as it's now tea time. I wonder if I'll be lucky? I hear promising noises from the kitchen.
Nope.
(A while later)
Hooray! Number One Son doing duties! Must have been the muttering.

Hospital time

Yesterday was the big day! Carpal tunnel release surgery that I have been putting off for years! My right hand was done about twelve years ago, but the left hand, which I use for writing and painting, lasted a bit longer. All of this was no doubt brought on by years of hard labour in the kitchen and garden – what could be more repetitive than digging, chopping, slicing, dicing and whisking?
I had to be at the clinic at 06h30 and of course the dogs woke me at 04h00, robbing me of a further hour’s sleep, so by the time I reported at Admissions, I was ready for bed and aimed to catch a nod before going into theatre. No such luck.
Besides being constantly disturbed by the ultra-efficient and may I say excellent nursing staff for endless blood pressure, oxygen and sundry observations, I had to endure the inane conversation next door. Every time I closed my eyes, a voice would call me – the surgeon’s assistant, the anaesthetist, the therapy lady conducting a study for the surgeon, and then an ECG because of my advanced age. Well, there’s a luck – low resting heartbeat, perfect BP – the body of a 20-year-old.
I kept telling them I was trying to sleep, so they probably thought I’d had a pre-med and I duly  arrived in the theatre wide awake but with my eyes closed as there was no way I wanted to see anything in there. After some cheerful banter from the delightful doctors and threats to keep me awake so they could ask me questions, I eventually woke up two or three hours later, having at last caught up on my sleep! In fact I was out for the count until late afternoon. Anaesthetics never did agree with me. Lucky I didn’t have a pre-med as well.

Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens

Kirstenbosch Botanical Garden is the perfect place to get away from the hum of the city, or to find endless green lawns, ancient shady trees and examples of the Cape's vast and unique floral kingdom, satisfying the needs of everyone from the harassed housewife to the budding botanist. I have been walking those masterfully cobbled paths since early childhood and still never need an excuse to go there. The babbling brooks carrying the runoff from Table Mountain through the Dell soothe the soul, and plentiful resting benches donated by past wanderers have provided respite from the sometimes arduous trek for millions, locals and tourists alike.
Birdlife abounds as they can feed from all their favourite vegetation and owls roosting in trees attract twitchers and normal viewers, especially children, to admire them under their sleepy stare.
The Boomslang canopy walk is a recent addition that has brought a new perspective to the gardens, although it would benefit by another few hundred metres, I think!
It is truly a national treasure and those who live in Cape Town should take time out of busy lives to lie under a tree and recharge if they are able to.

 

Soothing stroll

What an astounding sea today! Long swells, stretching in a straight line from Outer Kom to well past the lighthouse, rolling shorewards in parallel lines and breaking in a tumult of surf on the approach to the rocky ledge that characterises this piece of coastline, the sun glowing emerald green through each wave before it collapsed into bright whiteness.

Thrushes and bulbuls flitted among the bushes, resting on the remains of a long-disused fence to sing their joyous songs in tribute to the magnificence of the day. Fynbos flowers opened their shiny buttercup-yellow petals to the sun, while pure white lilies remained separate and aloof from the riotous colour at their feet.

Warm sunshine and a gentle sea breeze reminded me that this is typical of winter in the Cape, punctuated by short, sharp storms to relieve the monotony and fill our dams. All too soon we will be complaining about the Cape Doctor, our summer southeaster that frays flags and tempers but cleans the air and blows away the cobwebs of the mind.