Taking care of pets

Cleo has had her operation and is enjoying a bit of a lie-down. No running after the cats or annoying Monty. At least that is a milestone completed, and a bank account depleted! Monty seems quite bouncy today and I think he has relieved himself! Little blind Susie, who snaps and growls at Cleo, sniffed her out and jumped up onto the couch to make sure that the pesky puppy was alright, then jumped back down without knowing how far it was to the ground, coming a bit of a cropper on the way; isn't it amazing how dogs and cats instinctively know when another one is feeling poorly? I must say, on the rare occasions when I take to the couch, I soon find myself surrounded by my animals.
It's always a relief when they are in good health and so stressful in bad times, and it is a blessing to have vets and assistants who so obviously love animals and are always on hand to offer sympathetic advice and a tissue. But I do wonder what has changed from the days when I was a kid and all our pets lived a rough, tough life, catching lizards and mice on the mountain and the odd snake (and plenty of birds) and never needed a vet. When they became old and weak, nature took its course and they faded away peacefully under a tree. Perhaps too much attention is paid to diet and special pellets now, when a bit of mince and odd leftovers was enough for our Tibby?

Cleo going under the knife

Cleo is being spayed tomorrow. The same nil per mouth applies to her as to humans - no food after 10pm tonight. That's going to be interesting!
Cleo has always vacuumed up everything in sight, the result of being a rescue puppy with its accompanying fear of starvation. After months of devoted attention from us and access to all kinds of food, she is learning to hold back and refrain from snatching. She knows the pecking order here with hand-fed titbits and is happy to be third in line. But the problem is she doesn't confine herself to food. She has always eaten just about any kind of plant from the petals to the roots. This has been alleviated by feeding her vegetables. So I'll have to keep her inside in case she eats a stick before her operation. But again, we have to run the gauntlet of the driveway, where the guineafowl gather each morning, and what is her favourite snack? Guineafowl poop! Aargh! Do you think it will matter if she manages to sneak some in? I think only her breath will suffer and that will certainly give the vet something to think about!

Fun at the stove

A fun day today at the Good Food and Wine Show! I took part in the cooking demo by the Giggling Gourmet, the inimitable Jenny Morris, and was thrilled to produce a plate of very tasty lamb and salad with a few simple, fresh ingredients, a trademark of her cooking style. Students from the International Hotel School stood by to ensure that no fingers were sliced (although I have to admit I took a sliver off a fingernail before being shown the correct position of the fingers!) and help with the unfamiliar cooking apparatus  (those fancy black ceramic jobs that are instantly hot). My assistant was the sweetest young girl and I hope she will have a great career in hospitality.
The important point that Jenny brought across was that we eat an excessive amount of protein in the South African diet and we only need a piece of meat (if that is our preference) the size of the palm of our hand. With meat prices set to soar, it's good to know that eating less of it will actually benefit us.
Our vegetable accompaniments should also be varied with the emphasis on flavour through judicious use of herbs and spices. The point of tasty food is that, by savouring every mouthful, we enjoy it more and consume less. A win-win situation, indeed.
She is, of course, preaching to the converted, as I have become very aware of the truth of the saying, You are what you eat. So I'm looking forward to being a little bit less of me!

 

Pet ponderings

We continue to struggle on with old Monty dog, who is suffering from a rectal hernia and enlarged prostate, together with severe arthritis. It is very easy to say put him down and he will be happy, but when a pet has been the focus of the family for 17 years nobody wants to make that decision and be the one to blame. He also seems to have doggy dementia at times, as he often stands staring into the middle distance as if trying to remember what he was doing.
Needless to say, it is I who have the task of rubbing, bathing, cleaning up, feeding medicines and generally getting him settled at night. One can only wonder how quickly a decision would be made if others who shall remain nameless were required to take on these duties, and yet my input on the most merciful solution is not required. I had to watch two cats reach the ripe old age of 20 with considerable difficulty on their part and a great deal of attention on mine, again.
I often think about why animals and particularly our beloved domestic pets are not designed to live as long as us, giving us multiple opportunities over the years to experience the hardship of deciding when enough is enough, feeling guilty in case we made the wrong decision, feeling guilty although we made the right decision and then grieving for the loss of a companion that provided so much more than we humans appear capable of giving to each other. Perhaps that is the reason. To make us reflect on how we interact, so that the natural cycle of life can be borne more easily knowing that we always tried our best to be kind and caring to all.

Some of May's sunsets

Having lived in Kommetjie for 34 years, I can categorically state that there is never a time when there is not something of great beauty to behold. Whether it be a cloud over the sea at sunset, a bird perched on a twig twittering at the start of a new day, ships of all shapes and sizes passing on the horizon as they round the Cape of Good Hope or the sun shining on the cliff face above the lighthouse, it must be a hard heart that cannot rejoice in the natural beauty of the world, or even fail to notice it.

May is traditionally the month of our most spectacular sunsets and sunrises, as climatic conditions favour reflections of the sunlight on high clouds and we are spoilt day after day for choice as to which was the best. Superlatives fail to cover the subject adequately, and only photographs can tell their story.

Soul food

A more tranquil day down at the rocks could not have been wished for. Low tide, tumbled rocks exposed to warm sunshine, unruffled sea. Picture perfect flamingos at rest at the water's edge. A few scuffling and grumbling in deeper waters. Oytercatchers turning over seaweed clinging to the rocks in search of lunch. An ever-aloof black-headed heron alone and motionless, waiting for a silver flash in the shallows.  A cormorant drying its outstretched wings after a successful dive. Hadedahs and sacred ibis pecking side by side, relishing plentiful sea lice.
At the mouth of the bay, a large seal thrashes its head to and fro just above the surface, stunning the fish caught firmly in its jaws. Kelp beds peek out like shark fins where the water deepens.
Majestic aloes rear upwards, giving a mighty display of vibrant colours against a background of blue.
No sound disturbs the air except a crashing breaker at Outer Kom.
Soul food.

Clawing cats and Cleo

Having pets can be hazardous. Always hard work, and always worth it, but hazardous. Cleo and the kitties are still adjusting to each other, and the terrier in Cleo makes it impossible for her to resist chasing them. Biggles jumps onto the balustrade and gazes disdainfully at the jumping dog so obviously not going to get him, but Mango still runs away, jumping into the tree tops from the deck and onto the neighbour's garage roof. There she sits, teasing their dog, a Jack Russell, and soon Scooby Doo and Cleo are barking senselessly at a cat that is not going to move until she feels like it.
The lesson I still have to learn is not to pick up the cats, as this encourages Cleo to jump up at them, and once again the terrier allows her to achieve a considerable height. (She jumped onto the bonnet of the car today - quite a surprise for all concerned!) Thinking I was doing Biggles a favour by carrying him to his food on the table outside, it came as a shock to be slashed through the face, clawing my cheek and lip and drawing blood. Maybe I should have discussed it with him first, but he can run the gauntlet from now on!
Cleo is growing up nicely now that her big teeth are in place and the shark-like shredding of limbs has ceased. She had a refresher obedience class yesterday. More to the point, I received further training! It's all about the owner, not the dog. I'm happy to say things are going well as I have become more disciplined and pay attention to what I am doing when she displays 'naughty' behaviour. Such a delight!

Switched off

There are days when I wish cell phones had never been invented. They are such an invasion of privacy, not to mention an annoyance in public. At a restaurant the other day, our enjoyment of lunch was severely impaired by a man conducting business from his phone and laptop at a nearby table. I have absolutely no interest whatsoever in anybody else's conversations and particularly when every word is bellowed as though they are speaking through two tins connected by a piece of string, or shouting from distant hilltop to distant hilltop. Surely it is time for some social etiquette to come into force?
Even less pleasant is when my own phone rings. It has come to the time for me to either keep it on silent or just plain switched off. Can you imagine how difficult it is to answer the phone, which is in the deepest recesses of a large handbag, while trying on a pair of jeans in the fitting room of a local chain store? For a start, the mirrors and lighting have put me in a foul mood. They must surely be funfair mirrors! And then how come the jeans I am wearing fit perfectly but the same size in the jeans I am trying to squeeze a leg into would only be suitable for a stick insect?
The ultimate annoyance is, of course, when HWCFA phones for no reason other than to ask where I am. I'm standing on one leg in a fitting room trying to squeeze into jeans that patently will not go further than my knee and now is not the time to phone me, I hiss into the phone, trying not to be overheard as I break out into a froth of irritation caused by multiple disappointments - appearance in mirror, clothes that are obviously wrongly labelled, etc. Now that is good cause for switching off!

Interesting interaction

I have had a long list of things to do that require getting in the car and travelling fair distances building up for a while. When you live in the sticks, you feel obliged to plan your trips for maximum efficiency, but eventually you realise that nothing will dovetail perfectly and you must just make a start.
With my list in hand, I set off to drop off and collect items in Bergvliet, Wynberg, Claremont and central Cape Town,  a collective distance of about 80km return. The interesting part was Wynberg, where I found myself in the thick of the minibus taxis down at the station. I never intended to be there. It's a place to avoid like the plague. I came up behind a taxi blocking the road and was surrounded on all sides by other taxis. No way forward and no way back. I rolled down my window and stuck my head out. "Excuse me," I called to a crowd on the pavement, "is anyone driving that taxi?" How intrepid.
Immediately a young guy broke away from the crowd and climbed in. He pulled one taxi length forward then hung out of the window to continue his conversation with those on the pavement. I waited patiently for a while, then contemplated a tentative toot. The last time I hooted at a taxi, the very large driver climbed out and approached my window in a fairly aggressive way, so I gave it some more thought.
Stroke of luck, a policeman climbs out of the car behind me and shouts, taxi moves on.
He knew I was waiting behind him. It's all a question of culture and outlook on life. We all have different priorities. What matters is how we respond. In this instance, the cop assisted, but I have no doubt that impatience would have been a waste of energy and I would have just sat it out.

Autumn blooming

Buds are bursting out all over! This is the time of the aloes, bromeliads and succulents, when their amazing shapes and colours are not shrivelled and overwhelmed by the heat and bright sunshine of summer. Kommetjie residents seem particularly fond of aloes and have lined every public space and grassy verge and pavement with myriad varieties that provide a magnificent display for many weeks. My aloes seem to do well despite the amount of shade they have to contend with due to the huge overshadowing gum tree and the three storey house on the north side, and perhaps flower slightly later than those in full sun, but here is a preview of what is to come.

More aerial activity

The twitchers are all a-twitter! Another rare sighting has taken place in Kommetjie, this time a white-fronted bee eater. This bird is endemic to the northern parts of the country and who knows how it found itself here. Dad came out to Kommetjie to see if he could see it, as the sighting was near the lighthouse and quite accessible for him. And blow me over with a feather! He spotted it and he and my sister enjoyed watching it flit about for a while. Pronounced a successful outing and another one to tick off on the list. I read up on this bird and see that they mate for life, so this one is going to be a little lonely unless he brought his wife. Amazing how birds get about.
Another interesting happening at the lighthouse was the sight of a man hanging from the walkway at the top of it, fixing one of the transmitters. It's the first time I've been able to gauge the size of the lighthouse with the aid of a person and I can see that it's pretty tall! A drone was flying round the lighthouse, apparently supervising him! He was sitting in a harness and seemed quite at ease. Two men were sitting on the walkway just above him, no doubt also being supervised by the drone, and the whole lot was overseen by a flock of sacred ibis flying back to their roost on the other side of the bay. Quite a lot of aerial activity today (oops, excuse the pun).

If you can enlarge this you will see the men at the top and the drone on the left.

Lucky find

Could there have been a more perfect day, weather-wise, than today in the South Peninsula? I doubt it. Not unusual, but always worth a mention because of the overwhelming beauty of the surroundings.
Another visit to Simon’s Town - two in one week and sometimes not once in a year! This was a shopping / browsing expedition with my son, who has huge interest in antiquities, so it was a good place to visit. After a couple of hours, I was quite pkeased to reach the last place of interest, and as I stepped in the door, my peripheral vision immediately picked up the corner of a seascape and I knew right away who the artist was. Guy Todd, whom I  have admired for many years and always dreamt of owning one of his watercolours of fishing boats cresting the waves.
This one had my name on it,  and after about 30 seconds hesitation, it was wrapped and under my arm. I think this was the luck coming my way after the pigeon pooped on my head!
Lunch was fish from the Salty Sea Dog down at the old fish wharf, and I decided to give them another try after being disappointed about seven years ago. They didn't fail to disappoint again, and I won't chance that again. However, sitting on a bench overlooking the yacht basin more than made up for anything I might have had to complain about. It was bliss.

A special day with Dad

Today was a big day.  Father turned 88, and after much deliberation we decided the best celebration would be a family lunch at the family home, in old, familiar, much loved surroundings where Mom could join us in spirit - and she did.  I deboned and stuffed two legs of free range Karoo lamb (her favourite) and close family attended.  A really special time was had and it was a good choice to have it at home where everyone could be comfortable and still indulge in the family habit of all talking at the same time about three different things and interjecting at appropriate times in all three discussions! Does your family also do that?  Makes things quite loud at times but keeps us awake and on our toes!

Savouring the menu at Saveur

Today saw a friend and I taking a drive to Simon's Town to lunch at Saveur, overlooking the old fish market jetty and yacht basin, with the naval dockyard in the near distance. The weather was windy and threatening rain, but in no way detracted from the beauty of our surroundings, nor the comfort of the interior.

The maxim of this pleasantly situated restaurant is quality food and service, and we had that in spades. A small but very adequate menu allowed us to choose mouthwatering mains, and we were asked if we were satisfied with all aspects before our final choice, as it seems a little variation is not beyond their capabilities and they aim to please. We decided to leave the dishes intact and enjoyed the views and warmth from an interesting fire consisting of a flame emanating from a container placed between two sheets of glass. Clean and efficient - not overpoweringly hot. 

I had the slow roasted belly pork with chorizo crushed potato, red wine jus, apple sauce and wilted greens. It was seasoned to perfection, softer than soft and a perfect combination of ingredients. The portion was good without being overwhelming.

My friend had Moroccan lamb kebabs on Mediterranean vegetables with couscous and minted coriander and cumin dressing, which looked very appetising and was pronounced delicious.

Other options on the menu were slightly less expensive and here are some photos. I should have taken photos of our dishes, but only thought of it when it was too late!

Dessert was a shared plate of Mississippi mud pie, elegantly served with home made ice cream on shortbread, a shard of nut brittle on coffee mousse and strawberry coulis. Not overpretentious, light and refreshing. Coffee was excellent.

They are open for breakfast, lunch and dinner and have been added to my list of 'must go backs'!

Domestic duties done

For a change our road was the one that had electricity while the rest of Kommetjie was cut off for maintenance! We are obviously on a separate circuit, so I could do the mundane jobs that required electricity - dishes and washing. This of course only entails packing the goods in the machines and they do the work, but that is about the extent to which I am prepared to go! Gone are the days of stamping the washing in the bath - I don't think I could cope with scrubbing clothes on riverside rocks, although I doubt whether today's fabrics could last more than two of those cycles - and am very grateful to live in a mechanised age.
My first washing machine was a twin tub and despite the additional labour required to lug the wet washing from the one side into the spinning tub, it negated the necessity for joining a gym, and the wash and spin cycles for a full load were completed in about 40 minutes. Vastly more efficient than today's fully automatics which seem to drone on for hours.
The new dishwasher, whose virtues I believe I have already extolled, takes 3 hours 15 minutes for the cycle, but is super silent and fantastically energy efficient. I think it works on the basis of gently steaming all the residues from the crockery rather than by forceful jets of water, hence the lengthy programme. Whatever it is, it works for me!
Today was fine and sunny, with a bit of a berg wind heralding the possibility of rain tomorrow, so plenty of washing was done and dried in a flash, which is a good thing, as I have a bit of gallivanting up my sleeve for tomorrow, and preparations for Dad's birthday lunch on Thursday. He will be 88, a fine old age, and we are going to spoil him suitably!

Roads to be proud of

There is no doubt about it. The roads in the Western Cape are the best in the country. A local road trip was like a dream, with smooth surfaces, freshly painted road markings, sufficiently wide shoulders to allow pulling over for overtaking and, believe it or not, a very visible police and traffic officer presence all along the route. The use of average-speed camera monitoring means that we are no longer taken unawares by the camera being operated by a speed cop hiding in the bushes, and we have only ourselves to blame for being trapped by the camera at the end of a long stretch of monitoring. This also seems to have had the desired effect of reining in the hooligan drivers, as there is no escape for them now, which makes the rest of us feel safer on the road.
Despite huge numbers of heavy-duty vehicles, many with double trailers, sandwiching me in my little half-a-loaf-of bread (a very apt description under the circumstances), I didn't feel intimidated or unsafe, as these behemoths are driven by very skilled people, it would appear, and they keep their vehicles well under control. Not to say that this is always the case, as shortly after I got home, I heard that a truck had lost its load on the N1, causing huge tailbacks, so I was lucky in that respect. But on the whole, a great job well done.
Although ongoing roadworks for the last few years have caused inconvenience and delays for commuters, we have got used to adding another 20-30 minutes onto a trip, and must remain grateful that these roadworks are even happening. Other parts of the country have roads that are so badly maintained that you have to have special tyres that cope with all road hazards without deflating.
I'm just hoping I calculated my speed correctly in the monitoring areas. I will only know when nothing arrives in the post!

Looking back

Thought I would just share some photos tonight. It's been a quiet day!
These are photos from exactly four years ago when we went to Spain for my nephew's wedding in Marbella.
We stayed for four days in the beautiful and ancient hilltop town of Arcos de la Frontera in La Casa Grande literally on the edge of a precipice! It was an amazing experience and particularly as I was able to travel with Mom and Dad, resulting in my travelogue, Gadding in Europe. (Available on Amazon - punt, punt)

Shorter days

After some fair-sized shore breaks over the last few days, and calm air with gloomy cloud cover, the sun is again shining and the mirror-like sea is reflecting blue skies. The sun is moving northwards apace, and the early mornings are dark now, as are the evenings. I am not the only one to complain about the shortness of the days, as it seems we are not ready for winter here in Cape Town, but in truth our winters are brief and we have little to complain about with regard to extremes of temperature.
I think the cause of complaint comes from those of us who have experienced the long summer days of the northern hemisphere, when it is still light around 10pm, and we tend to resent the curtailment of our daylight hours when we return from holiday. Having lived in England as a child for a few years, I also know the other side of the coin, which is going to school in the dark and getting home in the dark, which makes you feel rather like a mole and doubtless accounts for a great deal of depression people suffer. I have always maintained that the reason the British set out to found an empire was simply to get away from the weather - in part, anyway.
We are a few short weeks away from the winter solstice, to be followed by a steady increase in the daylight hours, although winter clouds might rob us of their enjoyment, and before we have even got used to winter, the spring flowers will be out and we will be wondering what happened to those dark days.

Perplexing plumbing

Bit of an inauspicious start to the day. Getting ready for the new dishwasher to be installed this morning, so I clean out the bin area under the sink so that it doesn't look like a slum when they connect the pipes, and the water is draining through the plumbing joints onto the floor. This has happened intermittently for the last 34 years, so why am I surprised? As the resident jack-of-all-trades (you might have thought He Who Can Fix Anything would be coming to the rescue - excuse me while I have a little chuckle), I duly cleared the cupboard out and spent the next 30 minutes testing the stages of draining at which the leak began. The problem is the original shoddy workmanship when the house was built, which has revealed itself regularly over the years when bits and pieces have been repaired. The person who did my plumbing must have been practising on my house, as was the builder, and the pipe has a gentle upward slope before exiting the building. Surely the most basic rule of plumbing is that everything must go downhill? Anyway, over the years, various wooden blocks and bottles have held everything in place with only a slip from time to time when they are inadvertently knocked out of position.
Things seem to be holding together for the moment, and having hauled myself out of the bottom of the cupboard, I am now enjoying my first cup of coffee of the day - running about three behind by now. The sun is not yet up.
I can see what the problem is, and it is possible that some silicone or duct tape will sort it out, but it is Friday the 13th and, while I am not in the least superstitious, perhaps I won't court further disaster just yet. I will have another Nespresso and wait for the sunrise.

Appreciation of the free things of life

Had occasion to go into town on personal business today, so combined it with pleasure and a bit of writing time. Once again, the journey was punctuated by self-imposed traffic officers (members of the public who feel obliged to ensure that the traffic flows at their chosen crawl) and it took almost an hour to get there. Numerous examples of unbelievably bad driving (such as stopping at the intersection of Ou Kaapse Weg and Silvermine Road to let the side traffic in - a sure recipe for disaster and illegal as well, I would imagine) had the old blood pressure on the rise and when I eventually got to my appointment, I had to fill in a form with various questions regarding my state of health and mind. "Do you ever feel irritated or angry when things are beyond your control?" - only when I am in the traffic! "What are your main causes of stress?" - various examples offered, the first being 'spouse'. I settled on that one and moved on.
Anyway, turns out the body is in better working order than a year ago, so that called for a celebratory lunch for one and a visit to the Waterfront to stock up on my favourite coffee. As I sat under the umbrella, gazing at my favourite view, Table Mountain, and wondering again at what a magnificent piece of stonework it was, I pondered on how much I enjoyed the atmosphere of bustle in town, when in fact I live at the edge of the sea in a small seaside village 40km or so away, and am perfectly happy there. How could I like both equally?
And then I realised that it's because it's not a place that makes me happy but the state of my inner being, which allows me to appreciate the beauty in any situation, the diversity of the people around me (even the driving), the quality of the light at different times of day, the smell of the freshly turned kelp at home, and the boats at the Waterfront with the underlying diesel fumes, the constantly changing clouds overhead in a sky of many hues.
How lucky am I?

Our animals

The gloomy skies of the last few days have not made ideal conditions for interesting photographs and so I have continued to clean the house! I am still stunned by the view through my sparkling clean windows and cannot believe they are still invisible after two days. Unheard of next to the sea here in Kommetjie.
Lots of animal activity going on here. The cats, Mango and Biggles, are spending more time at home now that cooler weather is around and even deign to be petted and lie on the beds at night. Cleo is completely ignored by Biggles, who observes her frantic yapping from the giddy heights of the balcony balustrade with the disdain that only a cat can achieve. Mango still leaps off the balcony and back into the safety of the treetops, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time before she lashes out and reclaims her position.
Cleo is most definitely a teenager now, with baby teeth almost gone and much larger but blunter gnashers emerging, so the biting is more bearable. She goes absolutely crazy from time to time, dashing up and down the garden, in and out of the potplants and stopping only briefly to dig large holes. She is hard work!
Monty went to the vet again and basically is living out his last days at our whim. He played like a puppy yesterday and felt the effects today, but we should have him for a while still as we manage his various ailments and feed him chicken and roast lamb to his heart's content. Susie is close behind, and we can only hope that when the time comes, they can depart together after a lifetime's companionship. More sad times ahead, but life's lessons, I suppose. They have lived in the lap of luxury and will continue to do so until the last.

Getting the tools for the job

The ghastly wind of the last week galvanised me into action today. You must by now be well aware of my aversion to housework, but when I feel so inclined, I even wash the windows. They had got to the stage where I could write my grocery list in the grime - salt air, airborne dust and the ever-present ash still blowing in from the mountains after the summer fires does not make for clear viewing, and regular cleaning has always been a waste of time - a hosing down from time to time has sufficed. But now I have to confess I could almost throw a dinner party they look so sparkling. He Who Can Fix Anything will of course either not notice or think I've knocked the glass out. He is not given to compliments.
You will also know that I am a believer in dishwashers. Hand-washed dishes are never hygienically clean, it takes up at least two hours of my valuable time each day and we have had a dishwasher since I was 8. So nothing can convince me otherwise. My trusty servant packed up after 15 years thanks to repairs to a burst water main and the subsequent burst of air, but of course the municipality isn't going to compensate me, so after two attempts to have it fixed - the least said about that, the better - I set off this morning determined to replace it, by hook or by crook. Actually, it was by credit card, and was a no-brainer. I will let you know how I am enjoying it over the weekend, if you care to know.
Hopefully this will free up some time for gadding! I jest. I have many important things to do with my life, and menial housework is not one of them. So machinery and tools must be used to maximum effect. After all, do I insist HWCFA uses a hand drill rather than an electric model, or grinds away with sandpaper when tools are more efficient? Well, any time there is resistance to replacing old machines in my kitchen, yes. Always does the trick.

A thunderous welcome to a sad Mother's Day

Well, who ever expected that? Heavy rain in the early hours of the morning, with more lightning than we have experienced in my memory, so close overhead for so long, flashing just outside the window and thunderous noise shaking the house! Poor Cleo has never heard thunder and barked and barked as puppies do. Susie, who has always been terrified of loud noises, cowered under the stove and had to be given a large dose of rescue remedy. Monty has never been bothered by such activity, coming from a secure background, was also shivering with fright, and he has become very old and infirm of late, so also got rescue remedy.
The show was spectacular, the thunder kept us awake for a good hour, tea was made, cats came running in to be towelled off, the whole household was awake.
This morning we woke up to a freshly watered garden, no wind, the prospect of a sunny day and dogs and cats all happy and relaxed again. Monty still in considerable discomfort, so it appears that we will have to get used to the idea of his not being around much longer. A very sad thought indeed after 17 years.
Mother's Day was never special in our household, as it was always Mother's day and we shunned the commercialism. But nevertheless, as Mother is now only here with us in spirit and memory, I will use this occasion to give extra thought to the wonderful childhood she gave us, something that never lessened with the years, and up until the day she died we were still her children, to be loved and fussed over. Rest peacefully as you watch over us, Mom. Your favourite flowers.

Cape Doctor in charge!

Birds are blowing off branches. The hatches in the ceiling have been sucked up into the roof. The neighbour's shadecloth is shredded. Poles are scattered from their piles. The sacred ibis have completely given up even attempting their customary elegant v-formation and are just tumbling untidily through the sky, leaderless and lost. A couple of them went by with a wing tucked underneath them, sideways to the direction they were trying to fly. Pigeons can't perch. The swooping sparrowhawk is completely off course.
Stepping outside gives gritting your teeth new meaning, as you spit grit and leaves from an incautiously opened mouth. The last of the leaves on the vines have gathered in a corner, an easy sweep into the compost.
The sea has churned and turned a muddy green as the offshore gale pushes the tide backwards, well on its way to South America by now! Within a few days this will blow itself out and the sea will revert to its Mediterranean blue, crystal clear, and we will have forgotten how dreadful Cape Town is in a southeaster. The birds will be back on branches, trees will reach for the sky again and we will be able to open our mouths outdoors again.

Blowin' in the wind!

As the howling southeaster blasts down the Fish Hoek valley, bending trees nearly horizontal and sending swirling sandstorms ripping through hapless pedestrians on their way home from work along the road to Kommetjie, one might be forgiven for thinking this is Spring and not Autumn, November and not May. The seasons have certainly turned upside down here at the tip of Africa, and our weather forecasters must be working day and night to give us a semblance of fact as conditions change by the minute.
The best way to judge what to wear is to look out of the window when you wake up. If it's a southeaster, you may spot cloud racing along the mountain tops, looking for all the world like dragons hell-bent on catching whatever they eat. Then you know it most likely won't rain, will be cold in the shade and blazing hot in the sun in sheltered spots.
If it's a northwester, you may spot cloud racing along the mountain tops, but it will be more of a falling waterfall type of cloud, condensing and evaporating at will. It most likely still won't rain, will be cold in the shade and blazing hot in sheltered spots.
The other regular wind we get here in Cape Town is the southwester, which brings icy air from the south Atlantic, very heavy rain from isolated clouds and allows you to plan your outdoor activities in a most civilised way, as you can judge how long it will be before the next rain shower, or whether it will pass you by and rain on the neighbour. This type of rain has become the norm in winter, whereas in past years we relied on the northwester with its gentle cyclonic rain.
The job of weatherman must be one of the most frustrating, unless of course you are like most of us and just expect every season in one day! '

Bag lady blues

One of the greatest disadvantages of being a women must surely be that we need to carry our lives in our handbags. For a start, just having a handbag is a disability. Men have pockets. We have a purse inside the bag, stuffed with old till slips, the odd banknote, coins for the car guards. Men have folded notes in a pocket. We have two or three lipsticks, a bottle of liquid handwash (after touching those supermarket trolleys, an essential). Men generally don't do the supermarket shopping.
But the main point of this little whinge is that we tend to have multiple bags - sort of one for each outfit, or the casual bag and the designer bag. You know what I mean. And you probably know where this is leading...
I got to the till in the supermarket yesterday and just knew, as I put my hand into my bag to hand over the card, that I had forgotten to transfer the cardholder from my other bag. I had the coin purse with random notes stuffed in, but nothing substantial, and the loyalty card from my local coffee shop was not going to cut it. So I had to confess my stupidity to the cashier and leave the goods in the trolley, while going back home to collect the necessary.
On the way past the ATMs a brainwave struck. Cardless services! I had seen this on the screen many times and now was the perfect opportunity to try it out. I must have left my common sense at home as well, as it took quite a while to figure it all out, and a few trips into the bank to discuss my problems with the extremely patient bank official. In the end, it turned out that I had to first send myself money from my bank account to my phone (luckily had my tablet and phone with me) and then I could withdraw cash with the temporary PIN sent to my phone. The tablet/phone story is too long and complicated to bother with here, but suffice to say that eventually I had it all worked out and was clutching the cash in my sticky little paws.
Once again, the wonders of modern technology - but only once an awful lot of learning has been done! At least it saved me a long journey in the car.

Before the dawn

The best part of the day is surely just before the dawn. This is when you will find me outside in the garden, winter and summer, taking the dogs out after a long night's sleeping. Monty and Susie are too old now to negotiate the steep stairs and have to be carried up and down, while Cleo is way ahead and eager to explore the tracks left by night visitors. Being outside at that time of the morning enables me to enjoy the last of the stars and planets before sunrise, and this morning an almost expired moon hung among the branches of the huge gum tree at the side of the road.

The dawn chorus comes from starlings already at the birdfeeder, a couple of cheerful sunbirds and a pair of Egyptian geese down at the rocks. Not all ideal, but birdsong nevertheless. A flock of hadedahs add to the raucous welcome of the sun, and a small plane flies overhead, its pilot and passengers privileged to witness the beauty of dawn over the Peninsula.

The air is still and the ground is still radiating yesterday's warmth through the bricks, giving an illusion of the last days of summer. Yet even in midwinter, the proximity to the sea tempers extremes and it really is quite comfortable outside at dawn. In all the years of taking the dogs out, even on a stormy occasion, I have only once had a little rain falling on us. Nature always ensures my comfort!

Soon fingers of golden light filter down the valley, enhanced by the blues and purples of the backdrop of the Back Table, a breeze rustles the leaves of a branch and a new day has begun.

Another lovely day

An early morning tablecloth draped Table Mountain, leaving just the upper cable station peeking out of the cloud. The view from the front must have been spectacular, as the cloud falls waterfall-like over the flat top and down the sheer, stark cliffs before evaporating as mist before the morning sun.

The rather poor shot of a passing ship serves only to show the rising sun on the other side of False Bay reflecting off the vessel going past Kommetjie.

I'm not what I would call a beach person, and perhaps years go by without my setting foot on the sands, but with Cleo needing exercise, fun and excitement, I took her down with old Monty. He is very arthritic now and totally deaf with other medical problems, but he spent an hour or so frolicking as best he could, while Cleo was in her element. She kept an eye out for Monty and was never far from him, and I will have to take him down more often in his twilight years. He used to just take off and never come back, so could never be let off the lead unless we were in the mood for a two-hour chase, but now he is completely well behaved, perforce through old age.

Milnerton flea market

It was a perfect day for a visit to the Milnerton flea market. This place is a nightmare in the heat, the rain, the southeaster, the northwester - what's left? Today was magnificent - light southerly wind to temper the warm sun - absolutely ideal. The stallholders all thought it was a busy day, but I thought that the crowd was thin compared to the Muizenberg flea market. Maybe the layout is deceptive in that regard. Certainly Milnerton is easy to navigate - not just because the sea is over the railway line! It's quite odd to stand in the car park and see ships at anchor in a sea that is at eye level! The view of Table Mountain is breathtaking even for an old Capetonian like me. My mountain. Now that I am 60 I qualify for a pensioner's discount on a Friday LOL, so you can expect to see me queuing some time soon. I think I have only been up there three times in my life, an absolute disgrace!

The variety of goods on sale and price ranges make it so worthwhile for keen scavengers and collectors of bric-a-brac. I found four lovely old teapots for a special friend, so had the pleasure of haggling and purchasing without adding to the household goods! The ideal situation for someone who is trying to minimalise her life!

The de luxe portaloos are a sight to behold! Having seen the inside of every toilet in Europe as a child, and again in later years (I have fantastic kidneys), no outing is complete without an inspection of the facilities! These are spacious, spotless and have a view from Robben Island to Devil's Peak. There are toilets in Tuscany that would be jealous. And they are free!

Four hours passed in no time as my son was in his element among all the old curiosities and artefacts, and I was delighted to find a table and chair in the shade of a German sausage vending hut, where the tea was the best I have ever had. I spent a while in that spot, watching the passing parade, and a sight for sore eyes it was. Enough material for many a blog from observing the diversity of the population - and all so relaxed and comfortable together, too, despite what social media and politicians would have us believe. It's good to get out there and test reality.