A first horseriding lesson (not me) for what seems like a lifetime, all because of that weather.
And we’re sneaking this one in before the next cold front comes in tonight.
But it’s already making itself known with a cold northwesterly barreling in off the ocean.
There’s a Feels Like temperature of 3°C.
I’m trying to shelter, but the henhouse shed that I usually hide behind got blown away by the storm last week and has yet to be reinstated. It’s not great, but I get it: why mend stuff ahead of more horrible weather when it’s probably just going to blow away again?
The grooms have been making hay (no pun intended) by painting the jumping poles and turning one of the barns into a storage unit for giant drinking straws. A lovely juxtaposition to the drab, grey conditions outside.
On the drive over here I was once again struck by the signs of damage all the way over the mountain. The only people who have benefited from the last fortnight have been the Cape Town woodchip and sawdust cartels.
So. Many. Branches.
So we’re braced for another 18 hours of heavy rain and nasty wind.
Roll on summer.
Please.