Living with Lockdown - 6

The house maintenance continued on a better footing today - a proper scaffold ensured stability and safety for my son doing the major work of sanding every plank at a dizzying height. Negotiations between HWCFA and non-paid slaves ensured a peaceful working environment, with occasional whistling from on high.
My main task today was to feed the troops, so I dodged the dust and did domestic duties, with grateful thanks for frequent tea breaks. If we do run out of supplies, it will be tea! Despite a forecast of rain from one of the weather stations, the sun prevailed and I needed to water the garden again. The bottom of the well remains steadfastly dry at a depth of 8 feet - the first time in its 38 years of existence - and I wonder if we will ever see it rise to its old winter levels of 3 feet and less below the surface. The pit in the garage used to fill up with water in the old days!
So far there has been no need to find a form of exercise to replace my much-missed hiking (along with the companionship and humour of my co-walkers), as every muscle is used when painting, etc. I have even managed to achieve 10 000 steps a day and burn the same number of calories as a hike up Cecilia Ravine. Those days seem so far away! A rebounder (little trampoline) fills in nicely for the cardio and lymph system and only takes 2 minutes a day.
Even if you only walk around the garden, the dining room table (I took note) or repeated climbing of stairs for those who have them, any exercise will be beneficial. We must be ready for those mountains!

Living with Lockdown - 5

It is a daunting prospect to sand, paint and repair a double-storey wooden house. If we had known some 40 years ago that we would be doing this today, weatherboard would have been the choice, but I think that we were a couple of years too soon for this option. At the time of building the house, interest rates on mortgage bonds in South Africa were around 23% (yes) and in order to get a bond, someone would have to put matching finance into the building society. Hard to believe today. We were lucky to have a good friend who did this, although on reflection and had everyone been a little more savvy, it would have been better to take the loan from the friend! The cost of building at the time meant that a wooden home was also the only option, but I had always fancied that idea, without any notion of the upkeep.
At first it was fairly easy to get up a ladder and slap on some Cellseal every second year, but working life soon lengthened the periods between ladder climbing and somehow the years flew by. Advancing age is not conducive to house painting, particularly upper storeys, but the main problem was always that He Who Can Fix Anything has always refused to let anybody else do the fixing. However, we all know that a plumber always has a dripping tap, and our situation is no exception.
Today we tackled the first side, removing garage doors, setting up scaffolds (which don't reach high enough), unscrewing surrounds and then sanding every plank. After preparation, sealing and painting took place. All under the supervision of a hard taskmaster taking advantage of lockdown.
If anyone is bored during lockdown, thank your lucky stars!

Living with Lockdown - 4

It was a close thing. Today nearly saw the connection of a hefty plank with the other half's head. But restraint came to the rescue and the day proceeded with a lot of muttering and eventually a good bit of giggling with my daughter as we endured forced labour and finished painting one of the boundary vibracrete walls. I think that everyone else in lockdown is doing puzzles and games on the internet, but He Who Can Fix Anything has decided that we will use this time productively come hell or high water (I think that would be preferable).
A long overdue and major overhaul of the outside of our house is on the agenda from tomorrow. The unpaid slave labourers are not looking forward to the foreman's heavy-handed handling of his minions, and the hefty plank may well put in an appearance before long. That said, the work needs to be done and if all goes well, nobody will end up in intensive care.
I have heard nothing from any neighbours, nor seen sight of them. I can only assume that they are doing what normal people do on a Sunday - nothing.
One bright thing is that the baboons have not made an appearance since lockdown, and this makes me wonder whether this is coincidental to the withdrawal for the time being of the monitors or whether they are chilling on the cliffs. Whatever the reason, it certainly makes life a whole lot easier when the baboons are nowhere near.
A delicious smell is coming from the kitchen that has nothing to do with me - my daughter is rustling up a pasta with tomato sauce and fillet strips. What a treat! I can't wait!

Living with Lockdown - 3

Another beautiful day with cloud to cool us, although no rain yet. We may see a few drops over the weekend, and surprisingly there is a forecast of 40mm for next weekend, so hold thumbs! The birds are revelling in the quietness - nobody even seems to be outside in their gardens, although admittedly we are the only ones with plenty of space to roam and exercise the dogs. We are on a plot and a half which makes a huge difference to the garden space, particularly when the house is small and the garages are underneath.
Apart from a couple of boys playing frisbee in the road, briefly, all was quiet. On the food front, I would say we are starting off with the 'payday Salticrax' and leaving the tinned food for the 'end-of-the-month Salticrax'. Despite being allowed to shop for essentials, I am reluctant to be out there and will leave it as long as possible; the local shop is only 100m away so don't have to travel far!
A concern (among the myriad) is lack of exercise, as I'm sure the other members of our hiking groups will agree. We generally do around 12 to 15km per week which is no slouch, and unless the food intake is adjusted accordingly, some of us will be looking somewhat rotund on our return to the mountains! The allocation of household duties has still to be enforced by me, as I find it easier to just get up early as usual and do most before anyone else is up, but that will be wearing thin soon and I can only imagine the answer will be to not do anything for anyone any more! This is, after all, supposed to be my year of saying No. The intention was to get a grip on some self-discipline and finish writing books and paintings started long ago, and having three weeks or more of Sundays is not going to progress my goals in any way. But I will prevail.
I finished a small painting, one of my favourite subjects, the sea.

We ended the day round a fire, cooking a curry potjie, and listening to music to bring a bit of life into the neighbourhood.  So grateful for space outdoors at this time.
As this is only Day 2, the reality of the dire straits (coincidentally the music we were playing) the world is in and particularly our country has still to set in, and maintaining contact with friends and family will be of utmost importance. As I said before, a New Earth is coming and it might very well be better than what we were doing to the old one.

Living with Lockdown - 2

The day dawned as only a Cape Town autumn day can - windless, cloudless perfection. I stood on the deck and thought, what a beautiful day and here we are unable to walk down to the rocks. The thought quickly dispersed as I realised that every day is a beautiful day in its own way, and that I was already so lucky to have a deck with a view that it was churlish to be disappointed.

A woman walked past pushing a baby in a pram.

The day proceeded as if it were Sunday - the only day we are all at home together anyway, and I did all the usual chores while the rest of the family set about a grand clear out of years of clutter.
I bottled beetroot.

Can't get the lid off the peanut butter!

Showing a clean pair of heels

He Who Can Fix Anything started off quietly sorting out nuts and bolts in his man cave - the garage underneath the house (takes 8 cars if empty), but soon started asking for food items that were not in stock: bully beef (we've never had that ever!), jaffles (don't have bread the right shape as we seldom eat any) and doubtless there will be other things. I made it clear that as all the shopping is left to me, as well as meal planning, cooking and cleaning up afterwards, if there were any complaints he could eat out. I made the suggestion that, seeing as little exercise would be taking place, we should only have two meals a day - brunch and lupper. This was met with a stony silence from all quarters.

Following various groups on social media, it soon became apparent that they would have to be unfollowed due to the level of trolling. News filtered through of disregard for the new rules as was expected and it will be interesting to see how the lockdown will be enforced. Anything I might think will remain unsaid as political correctness in any form is not something I subscribe to, seeing it as a form of censorship of free speech. Let's just say that self-discipline and responsibility are key words.

Baboons have missed all the news and don't know about the lockdown. They made a brief appearance this afternoon, causing a runaround to close all windows and doors, but a scantily clad young man with a large catapult appeared on the roof next door and dispersed them with great skill!

And so we have survived Day 1 of what could very well be more than 21 days. Don't forget to go outside at night and look at the stars. The Milky Way is particularly stunning around 4am.

Living with Lockdown 1

And so the lockdown looms - an unknown to all of us so used to personal freedom and wide open spaces. With a level of food security and comfort denied to many, the most difficult part of being confined to one's property would be proximity to the family. Contrary to popular opinion and society's ideals, this is not necessarily a sought after situation, and my first thought after thinking about crime levels - what will the drug dealers, gangsters and sundry criminals do for three weeks - was that domestic abuse will be the crime of choice. This did not go unnoticed by our esteemed Minister of Police, who pointed out that liquor sales would be prohibited and police would be on standby to answer distress calls. Let us hope this will be a way to fractionally reduce such abuse, which is not confined to the poor but encompasses every level of society.
On a lighter note, we will have the opportunity to dust every nook and cranny, scrub places that have never seen bathroom cleaner, perhaps pop our heads into the roof space to see that all is well under the rafters, and trim every tree within an inch of its life. I have been informed by He Who Can Fix Anything that we (the four of us) will be completely refurbishing the outside of the house - no mean feat and if we do it, I will be able to consider the lockdown a massive success.
None of this was on my agenda, as I pictured myself finishing my novel, painting three or four pictures and reading as many books as possible, interspersed with rustling up some tasty treats from my embarrassingly well-stocked larder. (I have kept it stocked since loadshedding began!)
Now that I won't be able to jump in my car and head for the hills, literally, things are not going to be easy and we will all have to adjust to close quarters for a while, particularly with forced labour in the offing. I hope I will find sufficient good humour to post a blog most days to document living with lockdown!
Took a last stroll to the lighthouse to enjoy the wild waves and fresh sea breeze blowing in from the South Atlantic. Such a privilege to live here!

Dilemma

The baboon situation is filled with conflicting emotions - pleasure when they amble quietly through the garden on their way to a more exciting place, laughter when the babies rough and tumble on the roof, anger when they pull the plants out of the pots and break branches or downpipes and fear when they show aggression, particularly towards your animals. But they also suffer these emotions and it is clear that they are stressed when the baboon monitors arrive to move them on with paintball guns and loud bangs. This causes them to sometimes run backwards and forwards in a panic and cause even more chaos as they don't know which direction to take, but once they calm down again, they seem to have adopted an attitude of, okay, that didn't actually hurt us so we'll take no notice.
Today was no exception as the largest group of the troop arrived at their personal playground (next door is preferred, then us) and gained access to food by breaking a bathroom window (not mine). Munching ensued and some gambolling on the roof, with a bite or two at the wi-fi cable, and all was peaceful. Then human interaction disturbed their reverie and all hell broke loose for about half an hour. We suffered more damage to the exterior and then the dog shredded my curtains, so I'm not exactly thrilled about that!
When they eventually moved on, a female with a tiny baby remained, trying to gain entrance to the food source, and she is in a sad state of health, really tragic to see the two of them just in survival mode.
Quo vadis?

Armchair travels 1

It's not often life gives us a long enough break to browse through memories of happy days, but now that most of our time is spent at home, I am ruthlessly reducing the clutter on the computer. Looking at so many evocative photos gave me the idea to share some armchair travel for the housebound for a while, so here we start:

Italy, 2008: A trip to Milan to visit my nephew who was working there, and adventures in Tuscany and Venice. A pictorial diary. It was August and Milan had closed down. Most shops were shut and trams weren't running, so we walked everywhere. No restaurants either. It was also a holiday weekend.

The canal linking Milan to Genoa - Leonardo da Vinci's design

Our first gelato - so hot we just sat on the pavement. No traffic.

Takeaways!

The Romans knew how to build!

Marzipan fruit

Cakes

We turned a corner and saw this breathtakingly beautiful pink marble building - Milan's Duomo, freshly cleaned of years of pollution.

I only ever ate chocolate gelato.

Marzipan gnashers!

The church opposite our apartment had a bell (level with our window) that rang every 15 minutes day and night!

Out of nowhere, a heavy cloudburst with lightning. The only shelter was a doorway with some dodgy looking companions, but they probably thought the same.

Autumn at last!

Autumn arrived grey and drizzly this morning, but our hiking group is not easily deterred, particularly when this is now the only real form of socialising left to the world - strung out along a trail in the wide open spaces. The clouds cleared and the precipitation paused as we set off from Die Kom on our way to the WW2 blockhouses on top of Slangkop. The path along the bay and the boardwalk to the lighthouse were practically deserted, but birdlife was plentiful and the sea was just gorgeous to behold - a silky smooth surface with gentle swells rippling in from the South Atlantic and a bulk carrier on the far horizon travelling slower than the smoke from its funnel.
Mild air and a northwesterly breeze are just what this hiker likes, and after the initial scramble up from the lighthouse, the zigzag path to the ridge where spotters watched for enemy shipping during WW2. It all seems so primitive in today's high-tech world, but I am sure a valuable service was provided. All that remains are walls for graffiti - the current array of giant birds that have been painted are rather fetching and obviously done by someone with talent!
Again, very few flowers are out at this time, but as we crossed the plateau, enjoying the marvellous panoramic views, we did spot ericas, restios, serrurias, masses of shrubs with tiny white flowers and a giant protea. Unfortunately, a large area is covered with fast-growing aliens which should be eradicated as soon as possible before they get to the flowering stage.
It was a delightful morning on the mountain enjoying the splendour of nature. The only blot was that I forgot to pack my coffee flask.

Die Kom at low tide, egrets wading

On the edge

Pic taken from home to prove I was there

Fresh air and sunshine on the menu!

Due to the ongoing monitoring of the Lion's Head fire from a few days ago, our walk along the pipe track above Camps Bay was cancelled in favour of the jeep track from Constantia Nek to Kirstenbosch and back - a generally flattish, easy walk along the contours of the Newlands mountains with sweeping views and ample shade. Of course, no hike would be complete without a detour from the main path and today was no exception. 

We took the right-hand fork by way of a change and descended a little way into the forest before taking a sudden left turn - we were going to have a little heart-rate increasing exercise by rejoining the upper contour via a straight uphill under the pine trees! Years of leaf-shedding meant that the thick carpet of pine needles gave no grip as we grappled our way upwards, looping arms around treetrunks for support and occasionally leaning against them to catch our breath. The slope rose ever steeply before us, the horizon blue sky, but we soldiered on and eventually reached the jeep track again, to find we had barely reached the turnoff to Eagles' Nest - a detour of a few hundred metres that burned off many calories!

The rest of our hike passed uneventfully and extremely pleasantly, with mothers and children taking time off to walk in nature, and dogs and bikes in abundance. 

We passed towering silver trees fighting for dominance over remnants from the pine plantation - signs of a healthy fynbos population - and two strongly flowing streams coming down from the mountain ravines, clear and unpolluted and fed by the life-giving reserves held in these natural sponges.

With more restrictions on social events, we can only hope that walking in the fresh air will remain an option as the world comes to terms with another major disease that threatens to change our lives in unknown ways.

Ever upwards!

Very tall silver trees

Abundant water

Eagles' Nest not nearly as intimidating as before

 

My Kalahari Adventure Part 4

As we headed north, we passed through the small town of Williston, where surprising places exist: a restaurant with décor, food and service to match any establishment in a large city, quite out of keeping with the streets devoid of cars and pavements where the locals pass the time hoping for chance employment. The years of drought have been unkind to the town and relief in the form of food supplies and water for both animals and people has become necessary. The other surprise was the Williston Mall, closed for some reason (hard to fathom when tourism can surely be the only source of income at present) and looking quaint and quirky from the outside. Not glassy and glossy like a city mall, but it shows enterprise, a sense of humour and perhaps a little desperation. It was a shame we couldn’t stroll through. However, time and distance are pressing matters when travelling in South Africa, and we didn’t linger to see if a face appeared at a window.

Our first night stop was at Brandvlei – named after a farmer, Brand, rather than a burning lake – and our accommodation was the original farmhouse. Having used up our battery power with enthusiasm on the way up from Beaufort West, we searched in vain for a plug to recharge cameras and phones, but of course this house was built before electricity reached such isolated parts of the country (if at all) and a solar panel on the roof was attached to a plug socket dangling in the kitchen which supplied hot water. Thankful for small mercies, we prepared ourselves to deal with intermittent access to such luxuries and became extremely efficient and organised, using multiplugs brought from home at every opportunity. While the great charm of distant places is the lack of contact with the outside world, it does take a little getting used to.

Old photographs of the original farmer and his wife adorned the walls, and an antique telephone (wall-mountable, handset and cords) reminded us again of our easy lives.

We braaied on the stoep, relaxing in the last heat of the day and watching the Karoo sunset reflected in the old concrete dam filled by the windpomp, doubling as a swimming pool for road-weary travellers – not us; we took the dust of the day off in the showers that had been added the rooms to meet the facility standards required for hired accommodation. No such luck for poor Madam Farmer way back when.

The stillness of the night descended upon us and the vast canopy of stars lit up the sky with a billion pinpricks of light. And so to bed.

Matjieskuil aka Hawksmoor House

Yesterday our wine-tasting group visited a little-known (but surely deserving to be on the map) wine farm out on the Joostenberg - one of the earliest farms laid out in the 17th century as evidenced by the original title deed on display, signed by Governor Simon van der Stel in 1692 - Matjieskuil/Hawksmoor House. It is a working farm supplemented by the facilities of guest house, winery and function venue. The very hospitable owners are hands on and give an innovative and entertaining wine-tasting experience of their offerings, which are very palatable and affordable. The history - old and new - is imparted as part of the experience and makes for a delightful day out, not an hour from Cape Town.
These outings are a wonderful way to find places one would never imagine existed, most be situated on little hillsides and in valleys in close proximity to the city and larger towns, but so unobtrusively as to be unnoticed as you fly by on a freeway or nearby arterial road. A few entail a bumpy ride down gravel roads, but nothing requiring a 4x4, and upon reaching these sudden oases in a landscape of dry vegetation and the oppressive heat of the Paarl winelands, the lush surroundings amply irrigated from underground water, one is transported backwards in time. White gables and Cape Dutch architecture, thatched roofs and duck ponds, spreading branches of old oaks and hectares of vines contribute as much to the attraction of the Cape wine routes as the pleasure of tasting the fruits of the labour. This farmhouse, dating back to 1712, retains much of its original character and charm, and the tasting and lunch took place at a long table in the centre, with the doors at front and back open to allow the faintest breeze. A view through the heat haze to Table Mountain reminded us where we were, and also that back in the day one would have been able to see the cannon fired from the slopes of Devil's Peak to advise of ships arriving in the bay for trade. That would be the signal for the farmer to load up his oxwagon and start the long trek to Table Bay - a few days back then!
A quick tour of the venue revealed a place to be put on the list for any special occasions. One of the secret places that should be found. (Wine tastings by appointment wines@hawksmoor.co.za)

Photo: Inga Van Steijn Page

Photo: Inga Van Steijn Page