Day 622 – No, thank you

I’ve spent the day fighting with VPNs, rectifying incorrect veterinary invoices and trying to order Christmas gifts that don’t require me to leave the house to pick them up (mmm).
I have to be completely honest and tell you that I don’t really fancy spending much more time in front of the computer screen for the rest of the day.

So I think I’m going to go and light a braai and get some burgers crozzled.

See you all tomorrow. Same time, same place.

Day 403 – Don’t waste the day

It is hot out there today. Really hot. Paula Fish would be having great time.

Big plus: I don’t need to light the fire we still don’t have.

I got out early for a reasonably brisk 5km. Back in the day, it used to be all about how fast I could get up a hill. And it will be like that again sometime soon. However, in my current condition, it’s more about whether I make it up the hill at all (I did) and whether there’s a sneaky episode of vasovagal syncope waiting for me near the top (there almost was). Who knew that there was a long tunnel at the top of Visser Avenue?
But the hills are good for training, and the view from the top was pretty special. I didn’t take a camera with me (because who does?), but I might pop up there and get a pano across the city if there’s a suitable morning soon.

Once I’d recovered, it was off to do those pesky Monday morning errands in seventeen different places across the Southern Suburbs. All went well apart from the frankly stupid decision to take Wynberg Main Road as a shortcut. Wynberg Main Road is never a shortcut, although you do get to see all sorts of interesting people along there. It’s like the Dubai Airport or the Deep Space Nine of Cape Town, but grimier and with a lot more taxis.

However, despite that minor inconvenience, everything got done and I was back in time to unpack the shopping to Charlotte de Witte’s There’s No One Left To Trust. There’s a time and a place for heavy techo, and today it was 12ish and in my kitchen.

However, that’s not all. With winter on the way (it’s just around mid-30s outside) (yes, Celcius), I’m not wasting this peach of a day.
Braai tyd vanaand because you never know when your next chance will be. It might be tomorrow, but it might not.
Looking at the forecast, it probably will be tomorrow.

Anyway, I need to sort a few more things out – lunch and a blog post (this are it) – before heading out to get the kids from school and the usual afternoon chaos ensues, so let’s chat again Tuesday, hey?

Keep safe, keep well.

Day 320 – The last…

We’re definitely down to the stage where just about everything we do in the current house will also be the last time that we do it in the current house.

I’ve already survived my last Monday morning in the current house and I’m halfway there on making it successfully through my last whole Tuesday in the current house.

Fingers crossed.

These are minor milestones, though. Yesterday evening was a big one:

The last braai in the current house. On the big braai. Our third in three nights (braais, not houses) because we can.

There were a few emotional moments as the final burger patty came off the grid and was paired with some blue cheese and a teaspoon of blueberry jelly before being devoured. The tears rolling down my cheeks serendipitously added a delicious saltiness.

There is no big braai at the new place (yet), but I do have this, of course. And I’m sure that its first usage at the new place will bring much joy.


Day 184 – Tropical

I’m about to braai some meat, but the clouds are currently dumping all the water on Suiderstrand and so I’m hiding inside for a while first.

With the wind coming straight off the Atlantic, it’s very easy to see when the next precipitation is on the way and consequently, very easy to avoid getting wet.

No such worries earlier when my daughter grabbed the camera and took this image of her mum in front of a tropical lagoon:

You wouldn’t recognise it now. My wife wouldn’t be out there now. In fact, she isn’t – she’s just over there also sitting in the warmth, enjoying an alcoholic beverage.

The rain has stopped. I’m going to braai. Have a nice evening.

Burning fynbos

It’s half past six, but it feels like half past ten. Sunset was over an hour ago, and I’m standing next to a beagle and a braai, drinking my seventeenth Milk Stout on a chilly night in Suiderstrand.

After a run, a hike, a milkshake and a walk today, I almost forgot to blog. But that you are reading this kinda proves that I didn’t.

Whatever wood I am using smells amazing and is going to flavour the meat with those typically herbal fynbossy tones. Perfect.

Now? I’m going back to my music and my fire. Have a lovely evening. I know I will.