A Soulful Llama

 

How many elephants can fit on a Vespa? 

 

Eleven.  And 1 tortoise, 1 bear and  1 wide eyed llama. It took us quite a while to achieve this, and a lot of cable ties.  We also stuffed some arty goodies into the back box, and were satisfied that we were ready for our first Toy Run.  The Toy Run is a spectacular event held late November or early December every year.  If you live near one of the routes, you would have heard about it.  The revving is festively loud.  Andrew and I joined the parade of thousands of bikes, all adorned with toys for needy children, and set off through the Cape Town streets.  Traffic cops waved us through busy intersections and cleared lanes for us, smiling and waving and giving us the thumbs up. (Finally - I see the attraction of being part of the blue light brigade.  Motorists were equally cheerful to wave us through, unlike our political counterparts who usually avail themselves of that service.) It was an excellent start to the festive season.

The group of riders was as diverse as the bikes.  The magnificent Harley Davidsons led the procession and the rest of us followed.  Not too many Vespas took part, and scooters were definitely in the minority.

 We didn't stay long at Killarney - just time enough to soak up the atmosphere and hand over the toys. There was a band playing and inbetween songs the continuity announcer thanked us for being part of the Moral Underground.  I like that phrase.

To be honest, when I started writing this blog, it was a bit doomsday -y.  I was /am struggling to see the bright patches in between the increased darkness of load shedding.  It is not so much the lack of electricity - we can, and have, learnt how to live working around that - it is more the darkness that load shedding represents.  The corruption.  The lost opportunities for this country to thrive. A lack of hope in the future.  It is easy to get bogged down in that train of thought, because the world is cruel, violent, intolerant place at war at the moment. I thought that people are doing such a bad job, that maybe letting AI have a go is not such a bad idea after all.  

So I asked Chat GBT to write a blog for me addressing South Africans about load shedding. This is what it came up with:

Dear resilient South Africans,

In the face of challenges, remember that the spirit of unity and strength runs deep within your nation. Each trial you encounter is an opportunity for growth and solidarity. Your history is a testament to the power of resilience, and your ability to overcome adversity is boundless.

Embrace the diversity that makes South Africa unique, for it is a source of strength and richness that can lead to a brighter future. In the tapestry of your nation, every thread contributes to the strength of the whole.

As you navigate the present, hold onto the belief that tomorrow holds promise and potential. The challenges of today are the building blocks of a better tomorrow. Trust in the power of collective effort and individual perseverance.

In the words of Nelson Mandela, "It always seems impossible until it's done." Your journey may be tough, but your ability to overcome is tougher. Remember that hope is not just a fleeting emotion; it is a force that propels you forward, even in the face of uncertainty.

Stay connected, support one another, and foster a community that uplifts every member. Your shared strength is a beacon that lights the path to progress.

Believe in the resilience of your nation, for within every challenge lies an opportunity for greatness. The sun rises on South Africa, and with it comes a new day filled with possibilities.

Keep the flame of hope burning bright.

With unwavering solidarity, [Your Name]

 

Not bad really.  As far as rhetoric goes.

But Chat GBT lacks authenticity and, more importantly, Soul.  (So I wouldn't be surprised to hear our politicians sprouting this speech some day soon.) Having Soul makes us part of the moral underground.  The goodwill of ordinary people ripples into communities and forms the bedrock of kindness and stability that holds society during turbulent times.  

A few stuffed toys will not solve the world's problems.  But I am hoping that, sometime in the future, someone will remember being given a wide eyed llama, a bear, a pink elephant or a tortoise, and know that it comes with my hope for  their happiness.

 

 

 

 

Quite!

 A few weeks ago Andrew and I celebrated a wedding anniversary.  (Our own, actually - but we will be very happy to celebrate yours too if you send us the details...) This year the celebrations were wild - a storm hit Cape Town, and rain lashed the mountainside at our getaway.  So we chose the most obvious form of  adult indoor entertainment - we played Scrabble. As usual we were pretty evenly matched until that annoying stage when the board is full and all the high scoring letters have finally been pulled from the bag. (Are they weighted slightly more heavily, so that they sink to the bottom of the bag and are pulled out last, do you think?).  To get rid of the "Q" I offered the word "QUIT", and I was happy enough with the score.  But  Husband decided to add an "E", and write another word, turning my quit into QUITE, scoring himself very many points, and a frosty smile from me. 

This last week Andrew suggested I bring the Scrabble board with me during visiting hour. He has been in hospital fighting a nasty leg infection.  The antibiotics prescribed at A&E and the GP weren't working, so he was admitted to be dripped and prodded and xrayed and checked.  It has been quite an ordeal.  Andrew does not take illness lying down, except when he is forced to.  Now he has no choice, as that leg needs to be elevated, and he needs to rest.  

I found it quite scary.  There is nothing quite like a hospital ward to help one face the fact that everyone is mortal. It is something that is obvious and everyone knows in the back of their thoughts.  But hospitals smell different.  There is uncertainty  in the air, and the acknowledgement that everything  can change from solid to fragile very quickly.  Andrew was in the same ward that my Dad died in a few months ago, and that probably added to my feeling of fragility.  But the care and service was good, (according to Andrew), with the exception of the food.  Nothing new there!  In fact if you start to like the hospital food, it might be time to gather the family.

I reckoned that the Scrabble board wouldn't fit on the bed table so I didn't take it when I went to visit.  Besides Andrew was in a 4 bed ward, and I didn't think it was a suitable game for a public space.  He would have to make do with my scintillating conversations and the books I brought him.  It had absolutely nothing to do with my bruising loss last game.  

Andrew is back home now, and recovering nicely.  We discussed the need for him to possibly give himself a break from the continuous busyness that is his norm.   We'll see - old habits are hard to break.

This is the view from the hospital parking area.  It struck me as quite beautiful as I sat there one day - the mountain, the greenery, even the traffic - a mixture of the unmovable, the seasons and the flow of life.  We are so fortunate with the standard of (private) healthcare in South Africa, and in the beauty of the environment.  If we look carefully, and give it some thought, it doesn't take much to move from a desolate feeling to one of understanding and agreement - changing quit into quite.

That's something we can all celebrate.  And Craig -  you were absolutely right in predicting this blog.😄

 :

 

Travelblog

Those people who say Life is about the Journey, not the Destination, don't travel Economy class on long haul trips.  This time last week we were chatting to an over zealous check-in assistant at Heathrow airport, who thought the battery in the built-in scale of Andrew's suitcase, might pose a security risk. We were coming home -via Doha- after the most fabulous two weeks in the UK. 

The absolute highlight was also the reason for this trip - we were privileged enough to watch our son receive his PhD in Mathematics from Cambridge University.  I guess it is a private sort of moment to see someone you love achieve something he has worked so hard for.  I can't yet put into words the explosion of celebration I felt on a synaptic, cellular level.  Being together as a family was the background of happiness, celebrating is the overlayer of  fireworks and champagne.

Trinity graduates walking to Senate House

Even the weather smiled on us that Friday - the daily drizzle stayed away.  After the Latin ceremony (I had brushed up on Duolingo and could follow most of it), Trinity treated us to lunch in the college grounds.  We celebrated later with a sublime dinner.  What a day.

I know, I know.....here we go again, me bubbling over with green-making potions.  But it has been a tough, exhausting year, and this was just the reset I needed.  Let me bubble a bit.

We started our trip in Surrey with much loved family, walking country lanes, eating, laughing, catching up.  Trying to forget that we live continents apart, and time together like this has to be savoured and put in the memory bank because the distance is so great. 
The teenage niece taught me to Just Dance, as my attempts at Mario Kart (these are Wii games) have not improved in the last 6 months and probably never will.  I am ok with that.

 

 

We stayed one night in the very middle of London - Piccadilly Circus -  and managed to tick off a few of the sights we really wanted to see. 

If you want details of the V and A or Science museum visits, or the interesting statue in one corner of Trafalgar Square, or how K got pickpocketed, or Spitalfields market send me a DM.  :)

But on to Cambridge (via a non functioning rail trip...) .  It is a magical place, with beautiful buildings, parks, and abundance of museums (opening hours are strange - best to check), a market,  quaint shops and something of interest around every corner, and of course the river Cam. It helps to have family with inside knowledge of  whats-on too.  S suggested we try a Shakespeare from the selection being performed in the colleges' gardens. What fun to picnic beforehand and belly laugh through the wit of Much Ado about Nothing in the grounds of St Johns College.  Not even the bracing dampness could spoil the evening.....

I will mention just two more things (hope your tea is still hot - otherwise I can wait while you make another cup) :  Another trip to the theatre, and what to do on a rainy Saturday afternoon.

R treated us all to tickets to see the Agatha Christie play, "Witness for the Prosecution" .  The theatre is the County Hall in London (next to the London Eye), and used to be the Greater London Council headquarters.  So the setting is perfect for a courtroom drama, and if you are sitting in particular seats, you will be chosen for jury duty. It is immersive theatre at its best, well acted, fast paced and more of an experience than just a play.

It was raining quite heavily on the last Saturday we were there.  Cambridge is definitely a Walking Zone ( we averaged about 10km a day) and after a fancy brunch at a restaurant, we decided we needed an indoor activity. R and S knew just the place.  We were lucky to get a table for a couple of hours at the Board Game cafe, slightly out the centre of town.  And we spent two happy hours playing board games from their large (over 500) selection, sipping tea, chatting, and you guessed it - more laughing. The vibe is relaxed and animated, the perfect way to spend some quality family time together on a wet weekend.

We had such a good holiday, that we just let the airport official fuss about the battery in Andrew's case without it bothering us or us needing to show him the absurdity of his logic.  His supervisor did that anyway.  Airports can be stressful environments, as we were reminded right at the beginning of this journey.  K sometimes holds her breath when her back pack goes through the x-ray machine, as she carries insulin and needles and such like paraphernalia. And indeed at Cape Town International, her bag was sent for second look.  She explained the situation, started hauling out the doctor's letter, but the official said no, that wasn't what they were looking for.  Security isolated the object of concern.  It was a toy car that K was carrying with her in memory of her grandfather.  (They had a thing, and indeed a whole language, about vehicles. ) Apparently a toy is of more concern than the needles and medicine vials. 

I guess in life, the journey and the destination are equally important and  indeed symbiotic.  But should you get stuck in the airport of life and happen to be in Doha, head to Terminal C - there is a cool, misty indoor garden to enjoy while you wait for your next flight and choose your next destination.

        

 

 

 

 

The kindness of love

 February is traditionally the month of love.  Much of this is in the form of chocolates, cards and overpriced flowers on the 14th.  For me, this year, the month of February showed me love in other, deeper, more meaningful ways.  I saw love in my siblings sitting next to my father's hospital bed every day he was there.  I saw in it the cups of tea bought for me at Vincent Pallotti Hospital's little cafe.  I saw it in my daughter reading extracts from The Little Prince to her grandfather in  his conscious moments. Love was a squeeze of a hand, a shoulder to cry on, friends checking in with me.

Endings are usually difficult, and my father's death two weeks ago, was ungentle (if that is a word) and difficult.  His body finally caved in on him.  Actually, to me, it felt more like a volcanic explosion than a caving in, as though his insides couldn't be contained any more and erupted through stoma bag and his under functioning lungs.  This may be too much detail, but sometimes we gloss over the reality of death, and I don't want to do that. It was difficult to watch.

Mom and Dad

We held a tea to honor him last weekend. ( Tea, as you know, is my drug of choice when I am stressed, and let's just say I have consumed a ship load recently).  It is all too recent for me to write much about how I am feeling.  There is a certain rawness and vulnerability that comes with the realization that both my parents have abandoned earth.

I scrolled through some of my father's whatsapp messages to me over the last 6 months.Ninety percent of them are shopping lists, which I know off by heart anyway.  Yoghurt, soup, peaches, rolls, coke, cheese, fruit juice and bananas were the basics, and the steady rhythm of requests feels like a love poem to me sometimes.  Actually, it is in Pick n Pay that I feel the most bereft at the moment, and it takes courage for me not to weep in the Tinned Fruit Aisle. I am just avoiding shopping for the time being. My Dad also liked to end his messages with appropriate and numerous emojis. Flower, heart, rose, heart, thank you hands, sunflower, heart, and his signature smiley face with glasses that he used to identify himself. I will miss this whatsapp poetry.

Love is such a strange and complicated concept, entangled with emotions, thoughts, vulnerabilty and yearning.  And all that is swirling in me at the moment.  

Tread carefully please: spillage in the Tinned Fruit Aisle.👴🌼💓🌹💓🌻🙏

And on we go....

 2023.  Are you ready for whatever is going to be flung at us this year?  For South Africans, the year has started with up to 10 hours every day without electricity.  And the most upsetting part of this is the feeling of powerlessness that comes with it.  Frankly, it scares me.  There is no way an economy can grow, or even survive, without the power to work.  And from here, it is pretty much down hill into a deep, inextricable mire of societal issues.  Even more than we face now.

Despite my gloomy start to this blog, my year actually started off Very Well.  As midnight rolled the years over, we - the 5 of us - were still eating the feast that our son and his partner (S) had prepared for us in Cambridge.

  And what a feast it was - scallops on cauliflower puree with pomegranate seeds, cheese souffle, roast beef with potatoes and asparagus, and a rich chocolate tart - all locally sourced ingredients  cooked to perfection. What an immense gift to start the year surrounded by my lovely family.

Christmas was just as special.  S was still in Cape Town, so the 4 of us spent the most relaxing, leisurely day celebrating love, and being together.  Some days are stand out moments in life.  This was one of them.

We spent most of our holiday in Cambridge itself.  It is a beautiful place, small enough to have most things in walking distance, and big enough to find new places to explore every day.  I love the cobbled streets, the river, the quirky sense of humour scattered around the place.

(Check out https://www.dinkydoors.co.uk/ as an example.)

And we had SNOW.  It dazzled and delighted us. How wonderful to be surrounded by blankets of white fields.

We took a lot of photographs because snow is a strange phenomenon for us at the bottom of Africa. 

We ventured into London twice. (There is an excellent parking app if anyone is needing that sort of info - people let out their driveways or front garden space for a day, and it is much cheaper and works much better than trying to park officially anywhere in the outer London area. Park at the edge of zone 2, and use the underground - it's quick and affordable....)  Our daughter had prepared a "treasure hunt" (my description, not hers) and mapped out a route to see the unusual side of London.  So we went to Hoxton to see a Monster Supply Store.

  (It's really a front for something far more sinister than monsters - it raises funds for creative writing courses.  Monsters won't scare the world, but creative writing just might).  We found, after much searching, because it is UNDER the Bloomberg Building, the Temple of Mithras.
We went to Novelty Automation (https://www.novelty-automation.com/). We explored St Dunstans, a casualty of the second world war. Another treasure was an Algerian coffee store that has been around since 1887. 

Our visit there was fleeting because our feet were sore and it was raining.  We did the mainstream stuff too - Hamleys, Burlington Arcade, Selfridges etc and rocked up home at a respectably late 11pm.

I am worried I am making you all a little jealous, so I won't go on and on about all the fabulous times we had, or the delicious pub meals, or seeing beloved family, or the hilarious games we played, or our trips to Leicester, Norwich and Surrey.  Or the London Christmas lights and atmosphere, or the quirky house we stayed in (The house swap thing worked well) I won't even mention the Kings Speech bingo, or the swans on the river Cam. And I will avoid stories about the snow wanderings and wood fires with mulled wine. Suffice to say, you would have wanted to be there too.

I seem to have written myself out of my load shedding bad mood.  Remembering all the good stuff is an important balance when life seems a bit dark.  The Monster Supply store is definitely onto something- creative writing is an excellent way to tame a Kraken.