"let your boat of life be light, packed with only
what you need - a homely home and simple pleasures, someone to love and someone to love you,
enough to eat and enough to wear
and a little more than enough to drink:
for thirst is a dangerous thing"

Tuesday, 15 April 2014

balmy days

I have been reading some rather sad and heavy stuff lately.  One particular blogger always gets me thinking and re-reading her posts and makes me pretty envious of her ability to write real heartfelt stuff.  It makes me wish that I could write some "deeper" and more meaningful posts and not all this light trivia. As a result, I have spent quite a while now, on a post which I am not quite sure about or ready to post.  I suppose it just does not come naturally to me to "get heavy" and it is not because I am not able to be more serious, not because I have a perfect life, children, relationships (although they are pretty perfect ;) but I think it is more in my nature to look on the brighter side of life. It has taken me this long to realise that this is why my book is not going anywhere.

So folks, same old, same old.  I can't help myself

Wonderful weather and a busy weekend.  A stunning sunset cruise on Thursday night got that "weekend feeling" starting early.

from the cabin

Listening to this song on Friday had me trying to sing the eastern version, karaoke style.  Try it, it is not so easy. 

A beautiful bouquet of tulips from Hayley and Gareth 
to say thank you for looking after Alfie
Playing with the new Waterlogue App.  Such fun.

A special swim in the sea with Fay and being part of a group of her family and friends who were celebrating the birthday their paraplegic friend.  He was being taken surfing by his friends as a birthday treat.  Strapped to the longboard with his head supported by a polystyrene wedge, it was not without it's nervous moments. We spent about an hour spent on the shore and in the water.  It was an hour spent observing the love and support of his wife and his friends, a humbling hour and the look of absolute glee on his face as he rode wave after wave made it something I will not forget and a privilege to be a part of.  

A twirly-whirly soft serve before we left Muizenberg

And to finish, a little story:-
Michael and I had a very interesting Sunday morning.  I had invited this elderly couple, clients of Michael's, who live around the corner for tea at 10. The husband is amazing for 92 and despite being a tad deaf is as sharp as most 55 year olds. The wife is about to be 88.  She is honest and direct, entertaining even though a bit repetitive.  She tells a wonderful story. 

They live in a rambling house in one of the avenues and have lived there for 54 years. They have been married for 65 years. They love birds - all birds, cockatiels, doves, pigeons and guinea fowls. Cockatiels and their cages fill the floor and Persian carpet in their lounge. The cockatiels roam free until visitors arrive. They feed the neighbourhood birds, the guinea fowls have destroyed their grass and upset their neighbours and pigeons venture down their parquet floored passage looking for food.

We visited them together a while back, had a tour of the house, heard stories of the antiques and paintings, toured the bird aviaries (inside and out) and studied the grape vine.  They have this enormous vine laden with Katoba grapes.  They have just spent two weeks making 230 jars of jam which they sell (to help pay for the bird seed).

I visited again last week. I was invited to come and sample the now completed jam (I have bought a couple of jars and am going to try and sell some jam for them). A slice of bread with the thickest amount of margarine ever was waiting at the front door for me.  It was then spread with a generous layer of the Katoba jam and I had these two old faces watching every bite I took and waiting and wanting a full and honest opinion.  Once I got through the margarine, the jam was good (anyone interested?).

A visit can never be a short one and I was in a bit of a hurry.  To make it easier for myself to leave, I asked them to please join us for tea on Sunday morning, when we could finish our chat. (She had started telling me a pretty heavy story about her relationship with God and the miracles that had happened in their lives).

Sunday dawned.  A beautiful day and a real pity to have to miss out on a swim at Dalebrooke.  The doorbell rang at exactly 10, they arrived with a loaf of fruit cake and two and a half hours of stories to tell.  We heard about squabbles with neighbours, fights about birds and about backwashing swimming pools; about the work they do for a soup kitchen in Lansdowne (they collect bread rolls from various bakeries in the area and deliver it to the church hall in Lansdowne twice a week); about problems they had with an adopted son; about their travels to Holland and her stories of beating every man at the chess club under Rondebosch bridge. For the last hour, stories about their faith, their baptism and the miracles that have had happened in their lives.

I felt bad having to stand up, break up the party and take cups to the kitchen, but we had a lunch date at 1 o'clock.  It took another half an hour for them to leave but before they left, they wanted to pray for us.  The husband led the most beautiful prayer and it was just the sweetest thing which left us both with tears in our eyes.

We were a bit late for our lunch and we missed our swim but mornings like these don't come about too often.

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