Does a fish need a bicycle?

Had a good giggle when I noticed this little scene at one of the gas stations in Kleinmond, the nearest small town to Betty's Bay.   It brought to mind the feminist slogan "A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle".  Doesn't that bring back memories!

One to dig, four to watch

Consternation this morning when we discovered we had no water.  MDH (my dear husband) had an appointment in the city at 11h00 and, running late as usual, only stepped into the shower an hour before he was due to leave.  Anguished cries from the bathroom as the last of the water in the pipes ran out while he was washing his hair and no water left in the hot water tank, due unfortunately to my shower much earlier in the morning.  Definitely a case of the early bird catching the water!

After rinsing with the water left in the kettle, an anxious call to the municipality established that the water in the area had been turned off due to a leak in the pipes of the house opposite and that repairs were being organised even as we spoke.  An hour later and the yellow digger arrived with loud clanking, the beeps of reversing lights, four blue overalled workers and one digger driver.

In the city I wouldn't even have looked out the window at any commotion but here in the quietness of the country it was an event worthy of wandering outside to check out the activities.  I'm hoping for water reconnection in due course - there are mounds of washing to be done.

Such are the excitements of village life!

Sunset Collector

I'm becoming something of a sunset connoisseur, in fact I now have hundreds of images, from the gentle and unassuming ones to the magnificent and spectacular.  The slightest hint of pink or gold light shining through the windows has me running to the dining room where the camera is always kept and then out one of the numerous doors to wonder around in a happy daze. With eyes fixed on the gorgeous scense in front of me I tend to be a bit careless about where I'm walking and end up doing a lot of tripping and falling but in the garden it's usually onto grass so it's okay. 



From my bedroom balcony a panoramic view

I'm fascinated by the shapes of the leaves against the sky and how the edges are gilded in gold

I've learned to turn around from time to time to capture the views behind my back.  The soft light on the house transforms the colors of the walls from pale yellow to "Just Joey" shades.  This was my dad's favourite rose and I've planted one wherever we move to.  I'm not sure if it'll grow so close to the sea but I'm going to stick it in a big terracotta planter and hope for the best.



It's very difficult to finish that last urgent email or spreadsheet when the sunset shines so seductively into my office ...



... so I don't even try !

Hot

We're having a heatwave
a tropical heatwave,
the temperature's rising,
it isn't surprising ... *


...that everyone's off to the beach!

Days of dazzling light and sizzling heat

Seaweed, a giant comma on the sand

Bliss for little kids

And not so little kids

Despite this being the final week of school holidays, the Main Beach in Betty's Bay offered plenty of open space

Crystal clear water, warm for a change.  We're tough in this town, the sea can be freezing cold even at the height of summer

And some of us are happy to take a short walk, relax and drink in the beauty

and the fresh, salty air.  This is only the second time my dear husband has been able to walk on the beach, albeit with two sticks.  The knee op can't come quickly enough.

* Irving Berlin

Songwriters : Holland, Edward, Jr / Dozier

Lamont Herbert / Holland, Brian

Change and Resolution

The first rainbow of 2012 and, hopefully, a good omen for the new year.  2011 was a year of change and uncertainty for this family.  First there was the completion of building work, renovations and preparing the old house to go on sale.  And by the way, why oh why, do we all wait until selling our homes, to get round to doing all those repairs for the benefit of someone other than ourselves? 

Then there was the actual staging of the old house.  Suddenly you're looking at everything with a critical eye and you notice that curtains and carpets could do with a good clean and window frames and external wooden doors need a new coat of varnish.  There's those sticking locks and missing keys, not to mention unexpected plumbing and electrical repairs and that garden wall definitely needs painting.  The garden needs brightening up, entailing endless trips to the plant nursery.  After that come the actual show days where Sunday morning is spent cleaning and grooming the rooms, arranging flowers and teatrays, followed by a hasty exit from the house, returning in trepidation after six o'clock to find out how things went.  It took five months to get a sale after many showings, appointments and disappointments and we were actually fortunate it took such a short time, given the difficult economic climate and recession.

While this was taking place, numerous days were spent looking for a new home in Betty's Bay and becoming quite disheartened at the prices and state of available properties.  In the end we finally found and bought a place we both liked, before the old house was actually sold, leading to sleepless nights and bouts of nailbiting, not to mention the intake of large quantities of stress-relieving chocolate.  I've read that moving house is right up there on the old stress scale and I can vouch for the truth of this statement.  The wonderful thing was that only a few days after moving in we knew that the decision to move to the country as the right one.

There's still a lot of settling in to do, doctors, dentists, plumbers and electricians to find, getting internet access up and running (endlessly frustrating) and getting used to small country shops which, unlike in the city, are not open at all hours.  Everything takes more time and patience is required learning to live at a much slower pace.

But there are sunset walks on the beach every evening, the small bokkie (deer) which walks past my office window in the morning and the flocks of francolin mothers and babies scratching through the lawn or taking their luxurious dustbaths under the protea bushes; sitting out on the stoep and enjoying sundowners while watching the antics of the numerous bird varieties and, best of all, no endlessly barking dogs and traffic noises, just the sound of sea, wind and birdcalls.

After reading through last year's worthy but unachieved resolutions, my only 2012 resolution is something simple but doable.  I'm going to take at least one picture a day, every day, no matter how uninspired I feel and I will make a photobook at the end of the year.