Viva la Barbacoa!

I mentioned last week that while I was in Spain we had some lovely braais!

This is particularly relevant as we have our National Braai Day (aka Heritage Day), coming up on the 24 September. On this day the (almost) entire country will squint at the sky, test the wind (especially down our way), and check that there are chops, wors, (my favourite sausages are the locally made pork ones), maybe a rump or two in the freezer and of course plenty of beer in the fridge. Then it is simply a matter of building the fire with either wood, as we do, (using rooikrans which is an alien invasive tree but makes excellent coals,) or, grab a bag of charcoal and pile as many bits as you think you will need into the receptacle, light the match and keep out of the smoke!

If by any chance the flames leap up as the fat from the wors drips onto the coals, well, the chap nearest the heat simply chucks beer over it and that all adds to the flavour. That and the odd burnt bit, especially from the porkies that must be really well done!

Rob's braai. Delicious! (Pic thanks to Rob)

Add some mielie pap, tomato and onion gravy and some avocado, and your braai is done!

Simple!

Not so in Spain!
Andrew has a lovely gas braai that they have used a few times. They do have a 'proper' braai built from bricks but it is under the carport and very close to the car so they don't use that one. We had several lunchtime braais and the last Friday that I was there, we decided to have an evening braai. It was the most beautiful evening, warm and calm, so we sat on the patio with a beer and decided that we would braai a little later. Now, let me explain. Evening in Spain stretches to about midnight, as in summer it is still light at 10.

Bouquets and Brickbats!

There are always things that go well and things that don't in daily life and a holiday is no exception! So now I am back from my wonderful Spanish break, I thought that I would share some of the very good (Bouquets) and the very bad (Brickbats) with you!

And the first Bouquet goes to my daughter Catherine for organising our entire trip! She booked the tickets, booked us online and organised boarding passes and seat allocation. She took my arm firmly as she steered me through passport control, up and down escalators and made sure that when I flew home again, her brother took over the elbow steering duties! (She flew home before me.)

I drove out of here with my little Hire Car at just after 8 in the morning on Friday 5 August. I packed my suitcase on Thursday afternoon and Rob and I tried to weigh it on the bathroom scale, with it standing alone! That didn't work as it kept wobbling and it covered the actual dial, so after trying to kneel down to see the weight (and having to crawl to the nearest chair so I could heave myself up), I stood (gingerly) on the scale and Rob handed me the suitcase! My baggage allowance was 23 kg and my case was well within the limit at just on 20 kg. So, even allowing for dodgy scale-accuracy, I was within the limit!

Catherine was ready and waiting, so she took over the driving and we headed to Cape Town Airport! Time we had in plenty, so after handing in our cases we went off to the Slow Lounge (I was her guest!) and had lunch and wine! How very civilised! Another Bouquet for the peace and tranquillity and chilled wine.

We flew to Johannesburg and repeated the baggage and lounge and wine routine before we lined up at the gate for our Iberia flight!

And this is where we met Brickbat Number 1.........

The organisation to get us from the terminal (sounds so final doesn't it!) and onto the plane was shocking! We gathered at the gate well before time, along with our fellow passengers. Time to board and we were all ready and waiting. Six or seven men in uniform (not ACCSA uniforms or Iberia actually) were fussing about moving a wooden pulpit-looking-stand from one place to another. And back again. And forward. And back again. Looking official but failing to actually do anything. Finally the crowd became restless as we realised that if we didn't get on the plane, we would never get off the ground. A queue formed, we all moved slowly forward and by sheer force of numbers, boarding began.

Brickbat Number 2 has to go to Iberia for the worst coffee that I have ever tasted! The rest of the Iberia experience was great, so they deserve a Bouquet for taking off and landing dead on time! I have never experienced an airline so punctual, it puts many of its competitors to shame!

My next Bouquet goes to my Spanish family! Andrew was at the airport and after the usual hugs, kisses and tears, we drove north (I think) just out of Madrid to their home. Even their cat greeted us! I had three weeks of eating, drinking and getting to know the children. (We had great fun putting the animal cards into the albums and swiping the cards through the sound machine). We visited some old villages, we sampled wine and olives and jamon whenever we could. We braaied and we ate out and we simply enjoyed it all.

As Normal Service As Possible!

Hello to all my loyal readers!

I am home again, winged safely over the mountains both ways, thanks to Mango airlines! It's the first time I have flown with them and I must say, they were fantastic. We were lined up on time, filed along the walkways in order and on time, people sitting at the back of the plane were shuffled to the right and into the back door (how sensible is that?) and were strapped in and hurtling down the runway at the very minute we should have been! Going to Durban we had an extremely jolly captain, one of those with a smile in his voice and a sort of casual rapport that made me sit back and un-clench my fists! Thank goodness he didn't decide to do a loop-the-loop over the Drakensberg!

Mango! (Pic thanks to Google)

Rob had organised a transfer to my sister's home in Pietermaritzburg and I was met at King Shaka Airport in Durban by a smiling man with a signboard. The journey took over an hour and I was horrified at just how many huge trucks use that freeway, all jiggling, overtaking, going too fast down hills, getting stuck behind slower traffic up the hills, pulling out in front of us.......you suddenly look out of the window and see wheels and tyres! Scary!

King Shaka Airport in Durban. (Pic thanks to Google)

Fingers Crossed For Normal Service To Resume!

Well.

As I write this, Morris is bounding round the garden chasing birds.......... Normally we would yell at him and throw a shoe or whatever comes to hand, but today we are happy just to see him back to normal.

Yesterday morning we had to take him back to the vet. Same problem, dig, squat, get up, nothing. He had had a restless night and we heard him licking himself every time one of us got up to do what it is you do when you get older!

The vet saw immediately that there was a crystal that was causing the problem and she tried to manipulate it by hand.

He was not impressed!

So, a quick injection and he was nodding off as I left him in her capable hands and we picked him up an hour later. He was woozy for the rest of the day and wobbled his way round the house as he followed the sun. Last night he lay on the couch until we went to bed and then he lay the whole night on top of the hot water bottle..... but on top of the blankets. Basil's nose was a little put out of joint as he usually nabs that spot.

And this morning, Morris wee-ed! He was next door at the time, so Emma our neighbour, and I stood and watched him until he had covered up the hole!

A 'eureka' moment!

Normal Service.

And, speaking of normal service, I shall not be writing for a couple of weeks. I am winging (stomach churn there) to the far corner of the country, Pietermaritzburg to be precise, to spent some time with my sister and her husband. I am really looking forward to being with them and catching up, even though we spend an hour every Saturday chatting on the phone and we whatsapp each other daily!! Nice to actually clink wine glasses!

Hopefully their water supply has been fixed by then, hopefully a plumber has been found and even more hopefully, that he actually found the problem!! Usually it is because the reservoir has run dry! They are regularly without water or power.....or both and unlike our little village, nobody there seems to care.

So, let's hope that all the services have returned to normal, sooner rather than later..........

See you soon.

Happy Birthday To Rob!

Our house seems empty and very quiet now!

Last Thursday we were invaded by family! A very enjoyable but rare occurrence! I mentioned that Rob's sister and her husband were coming to stay from Australia. As well as Bev and John, we had Angie and Vanessa and Catherine here to represent the younger generation, so we dotted them around in various sleeping areas! Angie and Vanessa 'camped' in the caravan and Catherine had the fold-down-couch-bed in the 'loft'! (Her husband Stu stayed at home to cat-sit so he missed the whole experience), John and Bev had the spare room, and Rob and I remained in our room. And Alfie was confused by the whole thing as he didn't know where to sleep first! And the cats scattered.......

Did I mention the occasion?

Rob celebrated his 70th birthday.

The Birthday Boy!

He actually celebrated for about two weeks, as before they arrived here, he flew to Johannesburg and met John and Bev off the Aussie flight, met up with their sons and partners, and had a huge family dinner on the Tuesday night. Then they all trekked to Kruger Park for a few days before heading to the Cape. The boys and their partners couldn't make the Cape leg so they missed the big celebrations!

The whole family!

And Alfie was bathed and conditioned for the occasion!

Alfie not looking too impressed!!

G'Day Mates!

G'day cobbers!

And the reason for the above? Rob's family will be visiting from Cairns in Australia, so I thought that I would help them to feel at home by slipping a few phrases into the conversation so they don't feel too confused by our South African slang!! I googled (what else?) and found a few very helpful sites and lists, so I decided to share a few with you all. Interestingly, there are a lot of words and phrases that we share with them, so that will make life a lot easier!! (Although, some, on the other hand, are vastly different i.e 'root')

This may be a tad small to read actually!

And here begins the lesson....      

        Arvo: afternoon
Barbie: barbeque  
        Bogan: redneck, an uncultured person. According to the Australian show Bogan Hunters, a real bogan sports a flanno (flannel shirt), a mullet, missing teeth, homemade tattoos (preferably of the Australian Flag or the Southern Cross), and has an excess of Australia paraphernalia. This "species of local wildlife" can be found by following their easily distinguishable tracks from burnouts or the smell of marijuana. (Hmmm, I know where we can see plenty of these people!)
  Bottle-O: bottle shop, liquor store
  Chockers: very full
  Esky: cooler, insulated food and drink container
  Fair Dinkum: true, real, genuine
  Grommet: young surfer
  Mozzie: mosquito
  Pash: a long passionate kiss. A pash rash is red irritated skin as the result of a heavy make-out session with someone with a beard.

No worries mate!

  Ripper: really great
  Roo: kangaroo. A baby roo, still in the pouch, is known as a Joey
  Root: sexual intercourse. This one can get really get foreigners in trouble. There are numerous stories about Americans coming to Australia telling people how they love to "root for their team." If you come to Australia, you would want to use the word "barrack" instead. On the same note, a "wombat" is someone who eats roots and leaves.
Servo: gas station. In Australia, a gas station is called a petrol station. If you ask for gas, don’t be surprised if someone farts. (That happens here all the time, the fart bit!)
  She’ll be right: everything will be all right
  Sickie: sick day. If you take a day off work when you are not actually sick it’s called chucking a sickie.
  Slab: 24-pack of beer
  Sook: to sulk. If someone calls you a sook, it is because they think you are whinging
  Stubbie holder: koozie or cooler. A stubbie holder is a polystyrene insulated holder for a stubbie, which is a 375ml bottle of beer.
  Sweet as: sweet, awesome. Aussies will often put ‘as’ at the end of adjectives to give it emphasis. Other examples include lazy as, lovely as, fast as and common as.
  Ta: thank you
  Togs: swim suit
  Tradie: a tradesman. Most of the tradies have nicknames too, including brickie (bricklayer), truckie (truckdriver), sparky (electrician), garbo (garbage collector) and chippie (carpenter).
  Ute: Utility vehicle, pickup truck
  Whinge: whine

So, its going to be ripper to have Rob's rellies from Oz for a bit. They had the bonzer idea to visit for his birthday, so let's hope they don't come a gutser when they are here. If the weather is fair dinkum, we shall have a barbie one arvo, which makes me think, strewth I hope we have enough tucker and stubbies to go round! And while we are waiting for the grub, we'll have a good yabber! I must remember to buy some chockies for afters.

And we shall celebrate Rob's 70th in style.

After all, his blood is worth bottling!

Hooroo for now mates.

Dark Clouds and Silver Linings!

You may have noticed a gap between my last writing and this one!

The reason?

I have been away! I went to Knysna and spent a wonderful few days with both my children and one amazing grandchild!

It was supposed to have been a few weeks ago, the end of July to be precise, but incompetency ruled the day.

So I guess I shouldn't mention the idiotic ruling about children travelling with one parent. I am not going to dwell on the fact that the Embassy in Madrid gave him the wrong information regarding the necessary documentation, or that the requirements changed between then and him boarding the plane. So, I shan't bore you with the fact that they were not allowed to fly when they should have flown, or that it cost a fair amount to change the tickets and the planes were full for the next two weeks, or even that Andrew missed his dad's birthday (the whole point of his visit actually!) And I shall be very quiet about my anger, frustration and sadness when I received the message from him at Madrid airport to say 'They won't let me on the plane and I'm not joking.' (And the words 'bungling inefficiency' will never cross my lips!)

Anyway, the Silver Linings................ He managed to re-book his holiday and he was able to spend two more days with us in Knysna! And I still had my holiday to look forward to when really it was supposed to have come and gone!

Feathers and Fur.

This is the post that I was planning to write this week, except for the ending. And the middle.

While I was away, Rob said that a dove had built her nest in our tree aloe in the newly improved bed outside the kitchen window. And just before I arrived home, she laid a second egg and was now sitting tight! She had chosen a safe place, surrounded by spiky leaves to ward off any pawed intruders, but our three lads didn't even notice her sitting quietly day after day.

Look below the flowers, right in the middle of the photo, see her?

We noted the date and looked up all there was about doves, and waited patiently along with her. We chose the right time to rush out to gather wood for the fire and replenish the water in the bird bath, and I noted with horror the amount of grass that I wasn't able to pull out!

East, West..........................

Well, as promised, here I am again!

Home, safe and sound (as sound as I can ever be), after a wonderful holiday, eating, laughing, eating, playing with my gorgeous grandchildren, eating, cheering for the Lions and Stormers rugby teams and Real Madrid and Barcelona football teams! And, did I mention eating? And lots of vino blanco!

Friday's lunch......paella, what else!!

Catherine and I flew from Cape Town on the 14 April. Our Emirates flight was scheduled to leave at 17.55 (our time) and arrive in Dubai 05.30 (Dubai time). That gave us a clear two hours before our Madrid flight left at 07.40 (Dubai time). Plenty of time to get through the hugeness of Dubai airport, and make our way to the departure gate.

Yes. Well.

Ho Ho Ho!

I am so sorry if this starts off like another 'call back the past'! It isn't, it has a quick reference to the past and then fast-forwards to the present!

'Present' being the operative word!!

When I was small (skip through this next ramble if you are bored with my childhood bits), at the beginning of December every year, my sister and I would be given an Advent Calendar! I think my aunty Julia gave it to us, but that part is lost in the mists (more like fog) of time! We would take it in turns to open the little numbered doors, but we first had to find them as they were so cleverly hidden behind trees and rosy-faced children and snowmen!

Old Fashioned! (Pic thanks to Google)

And they were all covered in sparkly glitter that stuck to our fingers and rubbed off on our clothes and faces. Behind each little door was.....not a chocolate! There was a tiny picture hiding behind each one, angels, a sleigh, Santa Claus, and behind the last one, 24 December, was a tiny Nativity scene with donkeys and all!

Rosy faced children and sparkling snow.

As Time Goes By!

I have a few hazy memories of my childhood in England (it gets further away every day!), but my sister can remember for both of us! Some things are as clear as day, I remember wearing a really scratchy dress one Christmas, I remember that the lounge was kept for 'special' occasions! I remember being in trouble more times than I could count and being sent to my bedroom. I remember my first day at school. I remember 'helping' dad on the allotment. I remember dancing round the Maypole (badly!) And I remember that mum had a very special clock that stood on the mantelpiece in the lounge. She called it a 'French Carriage Clock', and I can clearly remember her winding it once a week. One thing puzzled me about this though, as mum used to say that it was an 'eight day clock' but there were only seven days in a week! So what happened to the extra day?

Just like mum's clock (Pics thanks to Google)

She would insert the key into the special keyhole at the back of the clock after opening the little door, and carefully count the number of times she wound it. She always said that she must not over-wind it, or she would break the spring. One end of the key was to wind it and the other end was smaller and moved the hands. I loved to watch the movement of the wheels and cogs through the little windows, but woe betide me if I touched it!

The key.

Then she gently closed the door and put her ear to it to make sure that it was ticking as it was so quiet. This clock timed our lives week by week and was with mum and dad in every house they lived in. I don't remember it ever having it's original travelling case, but dad made a wooden box for it and that kept it safe during moving times. As the years passed and digital took over, it became more and more difficult to find someone to repair and clean it, and by the time mum gave it to Catherine, it was not working. Catherine managed to find a specialist clock man in Johannesburg who gave it the 'once-over' and it sat happily on their mantelpiece counting the hours and weeks for them. Then it got wet! Water leaked through the roof and down the chimney breast after one of Johannesburg's spectacular storms, and that was that! Then they moved to Dubai and the clock was packed up in storage...........until a month ago!

I could watch the wheels through the window!

Amazingly, Catherine found another specialist in Knysna and took the clock to him to see if he could help. He was pleased to see that it had been well looked after and that we hadn't lost the key! (Amazingly, because it was stored in Johannesburg, there was no rust in the workings!) He was also able to give some background. It turns out that it is an English Carriage Clock, not French at all, and was possibly made before the First World War. Certainly before World War 2. It will cost quite a lot to repair, but it is worth a lot more in sentimental value.

And hopefully it will continue to count the hours for them for many years to come.

Knysna by the Sea!

What a wonderful week I have had! Last Sunday I packed the car and headed off to spend a week with my daughter. They are now 'home' again in Knysna after several years in the desert sand and heat! My drive there took me all day, through small towns, empty, straight roads and beautiful passes that were so twisty and turny that I thought that I may be driving up my own exhaust! Finally I drove into Knysna, triumphant, tired and thirsty. (A very good dry white wine sorted out that problem though and Stuart cooked a wonderful chicken for dinner!)

A layout of the Island, spot P 44, their house!!

At the moment they are staying on Thesen Island, so we went for some lovely early morning (yes, 6.30, gulp) walks. The bird life is stunning, but even though I was desperate to see a Knysna Lourie, and kept my eyes open everywhere we went, I was disappointed. One day!!!

Our first (but not last) breakfast. Look at the view of the Heads.

Purrfect People!

St Gertrude needs to sharpen her pencil in readiness for this entry into her Book of Purrfect People.

I have written before about the wonderful members of my family who regularly rescue, foster, save, re-home when possible, keep if they can, put to sleep with aching hearts when sick or injured, but without exception, love cats.

My daughter and her husband are winding up their Dubai days and returning home! (Every time I think of that, I grin! In two months time they will be back on our shores, and close by, in the Cape, only 600 odd kilometres from me! More grinning!) For the last six years, Catherine has been involved with TNR (trap, neuter and rehome/release) of cats in their vicinity. Her own tally is standing at 83 and apart from that, she has fed several other homeless cats and has had four wild 'outside' ones living in the car port. When I was with her last month, she was faced with the heart breaking decision of what to do with those special four.

It was a decision that was made for her. She knew that at least two of them were FIV positive and that is a death sentence for a cat that is too wild to be homed. It means that eventually they starve to death as the mouth sores make it impossible for them to eat and in a weakened state they are unlikely to be able to fend for themselves. If they were staying, the cats would simply stay too, until their quality of life became impaired but abandoning them was not an option.

So, it was with heavy heart that I accompanied her on three trips to the vet. We knew that it was the right decision and we kept telling each other that there was nothing else that could be done, but when push comes to shove, it's hard to take a cat that looks fine to the vet, and come out with an empty basket and a heart that's spilling over. I think that week was the worst one in Catherine's life.

Where Do I begin?

In the immortal words taken from the theme song to an unforgettable movie, sung by Andy Williams..........................

'Where do I begin.....................?'

(Remember 'Love Story'? Love means never having to say you're sorry? Ali MacGraw and Ryan O'Neal? Remember 1970?)

Anyway, here I am, home again after a wonderful five week holiday. How can time go so fast? It stretched ahead of me like a piece of elastic............

This is the actual plane that took us to Madrid, Rob tracked the flight!!

Dubai was a quick two day catch-my-breath stopover with Catherine and Stuart. Then the two of us flew to Madrid, on our secret mission! We dropped our luggage off at our tiny apartment and Irina came by to collect us. And off we set to surprise Andrew.

Our little apartment, close to a pizza outlet!

Or so we thought!! He acted surprised, but he said that he knew all along as I had explained too thoroughly why we weren't coming! Too many reasons and too much information, which made him realise that we would be there for his birthday!

A staged surprised look!

Surprises and Celebrations!

Isn’t technology wonderful? When you read this in ‘real time’ next week, I shall have written it last week…………But, thanks to Rob and the power of forward planning, it’s all on time and perfectly done!

Puzzled? Let me explain!

On Wednesday the 2 April, I am slipping secretly into Spain with my daughter! Why secretly you may be asking? Well, it's my son Andrew's fortieth birthday on the 3 April, so it seemed a good idea to combine a visit to my far-flung children and enjoy a birthday celebration at the same time! He had some idea that we would be there for his birthday, as I had hinted last year that I would hopefully be visiting in March or April as the weather was perfect at that time of year, both in Madrid and in Dubai.

Then Irina (Andrew's wife) mentioned that it would be a wonderful surprise for him if we simply arrived without telling him (this is familiar territory, I tried it with my sister last year and ended up giving the game away, remember?) Catherine and I thought about it and agreed, and so, the back-peddling, deception and re-planning began!

Dopey keeping my case safe from harm!

Our Wildlife Just Got Wilder!

We have waved goodbye to all the visitors, taken a deep breath and listened to the silence of our little village settling into normality again. We grinned at the north-bound traffic pulling trailers and piled high with bicycles and children and we smiled and waved as they stared at us for the last time as they drove past our house kicking dust in our eyes!

We had a lovely visit from Rob's daughter Angie who was wheelchair bound due to operations on both her feet, so Vanessa was the driver, porter, coffee maker and wheelchair-pusher! Alfie was delighted to see them and became quite lazy at walk time! At one stage, Basil was quite keen on joining Alfie, but that would have been pushing his luck.

Alfie enjoying a ride!

I Made It!

Well, I survived two flights! And, although I didn't actually enjoy either, I have to admit that for the most part they were turbulence-free, even the descending through cloud part when I arrived in Durban, and climbing through cloud when I left on Sunday lunchtime. And, apart from the child who sat in front crying and the child who sat behind kicking my seat the whole way, they were really stress-free! I must admit that I kept an eye on the wing though, as my sister said, 'just make sure that the rivets don't pop out!'

Dopey, making sure that I packed properly for my holiday!

But, how quickly a holiday goes. It seemed to stretch in front of us forever, but the days flew by. A visit to the dentist seems to last for hours, even days, but a holiday goes before you have time to unpack! As soon as we got home, thanks to Shirley who was our very competent driver, we cracked open a bottle of bubbly (the first of many actually!). Boscombe, their very large dog who is as soft as butter, howled as soon as the bottle was brought out of the 'fridge, he knew that there would be a cork for him to retrieve from the garden.

A Surprise that's Not!

As I write this, my stomach is churning. Why? Because on Tuesday morning Rob is driving me to the airport. Early. We shall leave at about 7, a time that is normally the middle of the night for us pensioners. That is usually the time one of us opens one eye to see if it's coffee time, and if it's an odd number day, Rob does the honours. If it's an even day, it's my turn!

But, as usual I digress.

I am flying to Durban at 10.35 on Tuesday morning. Landing in time for lunch! This was all planned way back at the beginning of the year when my brother-in-law Norman contacted me about my sister's birthday. I blithely suggested that I fly down (up, over, across?) to spend some time with them, as a huge surprise and he was sworn to secrecy! My plan was to simply arrive at the door the day before her birthday and take a photo of her face as she saw me!

Taken last year, Diana, Catherine and me!

Another Maudlin Monday!

Being Monday, again, I did a spot of cleaning! When I do mindless things like that, my mind tends to go off on its own, and today my thoughts turned to my dad who would have had his 100th birthday on Saturday. There are lots of things that remind me of him in our home, he made the rocking chairs in the bedroom and a side table stands next to my chair in the lounge. His old woodworking tools are displayed on an old trunk and I have many photos of him on my desk. But the most precious reminder that I have of him is the portrait that Andrew painted of him, unknown to me, that he gave me for Christmas in 1994.

My father painted by my son!

Emma, Patrick and Gertrude!

What thread ties these names together? Read on!

Yesterday my gorgeous granddaughter Emma, had her First Birthday! I looked forward all day to seeing her on Skype, but when we finally made contact, all I could see were vague coloured shapes on the screen, distorted and fuzzy. Mateo was holding up his hand so I could count the number of fingers he was showing me, but all I saw was a waving lump! We cut it short to try again during the week. Isn't technology wonderful? And frustrating!

Gorgeous girl!

Happy Birthday my darling!