Walking the dog

Having a very active puppy is forcing me to walk every day,  no matter what the weather, so this is an added and unexpected benefit along with devoted companionship! The walks will get longer with the sunshine hours, no doubt, and soon I will be able to slink sylph-like into the three pairs of pants I bought that are currently one size too small! Talk about wishful thinking. However, it only requires a little effort and a lot of discipline in the eating department to achieve great results, so I am confident of success.
Today's walk took place under a sky split into two distinct halves, with the lighthouse as the dividing point. Blue sky to the east and a thick cloud bank to the west, as if drawn with a ruler. But no sign of rain as the tip of the frontal system sweeps by.
A bright horizon promises a peep of sun as it sinks from sight.
While walks are on the increase, the painting and writing are on temporary hold as a carpal tunnel release operation on my left wrist is imminent - not great for a left-hander but at the point where my fingers are becoming a bit useless so the plunge will be taken. No matter how careful you are with nutrition, there's not much to prevent the old body from wearing out! I'll be milking the situation to the max in the housework department!

Easy picking

July turned out to be a good month for rain after all, with 130mm on my deck and considerably more in other parts of the Peninsula. Spring is in the air. The white daisies that proliferate on the way to the lighthouse are popping out, and the first freesias are releasing their intoxicating fragrance around the garden - the essence of Spring.

Whales are blowing spray all along the coastline and the first calves have been born in the relative shelter of False Bay. Bright sunshine and noticeably longer days are causing a general lifting of spirits - we are powered by solar energy, aren't we? - and strong new growth on branch tips is providing a pleasing range of green foliage.
Late winter still provides brilliant colours from the succulents and aloes have not all opened their blooms yet - plenty of visual delights to come.

The vegetable planter is starting to yield its crops and rather than waste time making a salad, I find it far easier to browse at the trough! Eating coriander, parsley, baby spinach and soft greens straight from the stalk cannot be beaten for nutritional value and taste!

A long day

One of those days where almost everything went wrong. It started off with a flat car battery thanks to someone who shall remain nameless using it and forgetting to turn off the lights. Oh no, it started earlier - at 2am old Monty decided to go walkabout and wandered up and down the house and garden for about half an hour while I waited to put him back to bed with a blanket. So a rather disturbed sleep.
Headed off to the shops for essential supplies and filled the bottom of a trolley for R1400. WhIle I was out, multiple phone calls from HWCFA - I really will turn off my phone one of these days and just be unreachable. Various errands for others added some unnecessary stress to the day, and then a truck turned up to deliver roof sheeting, and that had to be suitably placed - 11 metre lengths, for crying out loud.
In between all this, cleaning up after the dogs, cooking, etc. I've always said that behind every successful woman is great household help, so no wonder I am still trundling along!
A delightful walk to the lighthouse with my delightful doggie, Cleo, put a slightly more delightful tone on the day, which will end with another delightful dinner produced by She Who Is Seriously Thinking of Taking a Sabbatical!

After the storm

Yesterday's rain (38mm here in Kommetjie) has washed earth and sky clean. Here in the garden before dawn, the ground is sodden, the plants and trees drinking it up as fast as their roots can, and frogs are chorusing in the undergrowth and now full pond. Although still dark, the robin is chattering melodiously, sea birds are calling from the shore beyond the line of milkwoods and the irrepressible sunbirds are a-twitter in the treetops.
The stars are sparkling in a velvet sky, the half moon lighting a path across the sea. Orion, lies against the eastern sky as it begins its march across the summer skies, letting us know that yesterday's stormy weather will be one of the last signs of winter.
No breeze stirs the leaves, and only the crashing of a wave indicates that we live on the edge of the mighty Atlantic Ocean here on this fairest cape in all the circumference of the world.

Under a moonlit sky

The night is not only for thieves and vagabonds.
I was outside at 4am with the dogs, standing in my bare feet on the bricks under a waning moon. A frog croaked gently in the damp undergrowth – a leftover from the heavy rain of Wednesday – but the bricks were dry and not cold. No wind stirred the leaves as I waited for the dogs, and a few puffy clouds backlit by the bright moon barely moved between me and the stars, and I thought back to a time when it would have been quite normal to take a night stroll around the neighbourhood or even along the path down at the bay, to sit and watch the waves breaking under a moonlit sky in shades of black and silver, with only the rustling of a mouse or rat in the undergrowth.
“Stars shining bright above you, night breezes seem to whisper, I love you.”
Society has become such that all Man has to fear is Man. This surely cannot be the purpose for which we are on this planet.

Dinner disaster

Last night’s supper, to put it mildly, was an unqualified disaster. It happens sometimes. Not often. But if the kids won't eat it, you know it's destined for the bin.
It started out as a simple gammon. I was going to be efficient and use the stock for soup tonight. The gammon turned out to be tough and dry. Plan B swung into action. Throw in a packet of split peas, carrots, etc. Shred the meat, add to soup, blitz. Taste.
So salty as to be inedible. Curses! Only half an hour to dinner time. Slice two potatoes, put in pot to boil before adding to salty soup. Slightly burn potatoes.  Toss salvagable bits into soup. Blitz. Bleh!
Moral of the story - when in doubt, throw it out.

Wintry walk

Lovely blustery day today, with no sign of the rain we were promised - not in Kommetjie, anyway - so got two walks in! I only walk when the urge moves me, otherwise I just feel resentful at unwanted exercise, and a good northwester is the motivator. A heavy break at the lighthouse released the heavy scent of sinus-clearing, freshly turned kelp, ever a favourite of mine, and a shaft of late afternoon sun glittered a path across the sea.

There was no one in sight and no other dogs so I took the opportunity to give Cleo a run off the lead to see how she behaved, and it was gratifying to have her stay within a few metres and immediately rush to my feet at a call. Such a change from poor old Monty, who was ever on the lookout for an escape and could never be let off the leash. One time he ran from the crayfish factory beach all the way along the rocks past Misty Cliffs to Scarborough, while we followed by car from the carpark along the coast road and eventually cornered him somewhere along the way. I think he slept for a day after that escapade!

So walking Cleo may be a much more relaxing outing and hopefully  will encourage me to be a little more inclined and less reclined.