Chilly, but chilled

Hello from somewhere near Touwsrivier.

Gone is yesterday’s sunshine, which we made good use of with an 11½km hike through the local nature reserve, looking for fossils and enjoying the views of the snow-capped peaks of the Matroosberg.

It’s Sunday lunchtime, and ostensibly, it’s 3 degrees outside. But with a biting northwester and horizontal rain/sleet, I’m fairly sure it will feel a lot colder out there. Even the baboons have sought shelter on the leeward side of the camp infrastructure, and they’re seriously tough guys.
It’s definitely warmer inside the tent, but not by too much. Everyone else is in their beds, sensibly enjoying the luxury strength duvets. Probably Hungarian goose.
I can see my breath in front of my face in here, and I’m sitting only a couple of metres from a wood-burning stove.

Which is burning wood, by the way.

I chose to lob on a beanie, a rainproof jacket and some shorts and go for a 6km run this morning, past the incredulous, sheltering farmworkers and out along the tracks into the Karoo. And while it was very hard work in the wind and the cold, it was also really exhilarating. I’m never going to put myself into an ice bath or even a tidal pool, but a half hour this morning with just myself and the elements was superb.

I’ve never seen my legs go that colour before, though.
I’m not even sure that there’s a name for it.

The temperature is dropping now. Not just because the sun (ha!) has past its highest point for the day, but because the post-cold front weather is moving in. We’re mentally preparing ourselves for tomorrow morning, which is now forecast to have an actual high of -1 and a “feels like” of -8.

I’m hopeful that it won’t be long before this rain turns to something fluffier and whiter, which would be a perfect end to a lovely – if bitterly, bitterly cold – family weekend away.

One from the (long) weekend

I mentioned our day out at the horse show on Monday. I was there as the photographer for the riders from “our” stables. But I was also there as a husband to, and a father of, a couple of the riders there.

I’m getting better with being around horses, although you won’t find me on the back of one.
My daughter, however…

Here she is taking it easy on this round – at least height-wise – having just last week conquered the frankly terrifying (to me, at least) 90cm mark of “things that horses jump over”. She’s surely old enough now to know better, for those devil-may-care days and juvenile lack of any fear to have passed.

Right?

But… eish…

I’m so impressed. And quite regularly quite scared.

Photo by 6000.co.za.
Thanks for taking the time to take it, edit and share it – all free of charge, too.
Much appreciated.

I must point out that all the riders and families (including my own) from the stables are always very thankful and grateful for the images.

Other people? Mmm. Not so much.

Making hay

I’m crossing off a lot of jobs while the sun shines – and it really is still shining, albeit for a shorter period each day, we’re on 10 hours and 21 minutes of daylight at the moment, and we’re losing almost 90 seconds a day.

Tasks that have been hanging over me for weeks, maybe even months have been completed, or at least begun. I’m not sure why. Just a period of Getting Things DoneTM, and while I really don’t understand the reasons behind it, I’m still embracing it.

I’ve even done some homemade soup and baked some homemade wholemeal bread for tonight’s dinner, which will definitely be after dark, given parental commitments. We might have a new driver in the household, but it’s still a steep learning curve between passing your test and heading out solo into the crazy world of Claremont Main Road at rush hour. We’ll get there.

In the background, I’m working on a weird and personal tale for an upcoming blog post, but it might be a) too personal and boring to publish, and b) too long to fit in a single post.
More on that when (if) it comes. Save yourselves: don’t get excited.

Right. And now I have to put on my Big Boy Pants and brave that very same Claremont Main Road.

Wish me luck.

Pass!!!

Well done to the Boy Wonder, who, having turned a whole 18 late last month, yesterday nailed his driving test at the first attempt:

I like the examiner’s three exclamation marks. All too often, we think of driving examiners as one of those professions who are just out to get us, trying to find ways to fail candidates. But they’re just doing their jobs, and of course they need to be firm and abide by the rules that they are given.

Looking at the mark scheme, this was nowhere near to being a close thing, and looking at the exclamation marks, she was clearly happy to give him the good news.
There was never any need for any punctuation, but she chose to show her human side.

Thank you, indecipherable signature lady.