Sun and Ski

26 January:

Andrew is packing to go on his much anticipated Austrian ski holiday with his brothers.  We leave for the airport in two hours, and he is a bit more flappy than he usually is.  This trip is a celebration of Life as he hits 60. The brothers haven't had a joint adventure for too many years. (One lives in Canada, the other in the UK).   Underpants - tick.  Jeans - tick.  Long sleeved shirts - tick.  But when it came to socks there was an odd assortment of forlorn mismatched singles skulking at the back of the cupboard.  He found enough comfy matching pairs, and decided to part with some that had not yet morphed into hangers, and probably never will.  Almost there.  Ski pants and jacket - tick.  Book to read....   And he is ready!

Andrew on the move...

We celebrated his birthday yesterday.  It started with a leisurely breakfast in Kalk Bay (highly recommend the food at Chardonnay Deli), followed by a dip in the ocean.  It is pure bliss for me to float in sea salt with my ears under the water, bobbing to the gentle current.  It feels like being in Creation, with all external distractions floating away.  

Actually, I am hoping to make this  the Year of Distractions.  I fancy dipping my toes in new adventures, even if I discard them promptly or "fail" miserably.  So what.  I have made a start by signing up for an online course. K and I are sneaking off for a Daughter/ Mother weekend while Andrew is away.  I have started a new glass panel for nowhere in particular.   So the January distractions are doing well.  Who knows, by the end of the year, I may even have a cookie jar full of creative ideas and a house full of odd looking glass panels.

 

31 January:

Even my distractions get distractions it seems. Andrew is having a wonderful trip by the sounds of things - I am sure he will share his adventures with you when he gets back.  He sends daily maps of his ski runs, and of  people sunbathing in the snow.  I am hoping the brothers are having a good time of re-connection. 

 I have been enjoying having the extra space to uncap my eccentricness and lying low for a bit.  January is done and dusted. 2024 is well under way.  I hope it has started well for you.

 

29 January

25 January

 

 

The dark side of gratitude

 It was a glimmery sunny day last Sunday, and I sat in the garden with my mug of tea, rereading The Ugly Duckling and enjoying some tortoise time.  I have an ambivalent relationship with fairy tales - I can appreciate the history and language, but I often find the themes outdated and laboured.  The Ugly Duckling however, has a cast of mostly animals, and that is somehow more palatable.  And of course the themes of finding your space in the world, the hurt of being bullied and appearance discrimination  are important and  thought worthy contemplations for a sunny Sunday morning.  

I was wanting to look beyond the obvious though, to see what else resonated with me.  And guess what - one of the themes was around gratitude. The little "duck", having been rejected by family and community, having survived being shot at by hunters, and having been thankful that he was too ugly for a dog to bite and eat him, finds refuge from a storm in a cottage occupied by an old woman, a cat and a hen.

Sounds good doesn't it, to find a home after such a rough journey, even if he knew he was only being tolerated there for the possibility of his usefulness (alas, no eggs for the old woman, but she didn't know that).  The cat, speaking to our hero who wanted to go for a swim, and who voiced the truth that the cat didn't understand him, tells the swan to "thank your good fortune that you have been received here....I advise you, therefore, to lay eggs, and learn to purr as quickly as possible."  

Be grateful and conform.

Please don't misunderstand me - I absolutely believe in gratitude and am grateful daily for very many things.  But I think it is a mistake to tell/hint to other people to show gratitude, because such an instruction comes fully loaded with oppression, submissiveness and judgement. Telling someone to be grateful for what they have often implies that they shouldn't expect more, and are indeed lucky to be in the situation they are in.  But what if they don't feel lucky?  What if they want more?  What if conformity is damaging to them? 

Gratitude is strictly personal.  Anyone imposing it on you may have an ulterior motive, and it is an easy trap to fall into.  Because if you don't show the gratitude expected of you, the trapdoor of guilt is right there waiting for you to fall into.  Sometimes the negative voices telling us to be  grateful and conform are not from society at large, or even people in your inner circle.  Sometimes it is your internal voice betraying you.  If the sentiment comes out as "I should feel grateful, but....." take a step back from that guilt trapdoor, and ask whose voice you are listening to.  If you do feel grateful then skip right along and enjoy the bounty of your gratefulness.

The Ugly Duckling found the strength to leave warmth and safety of the cottage to follow his instinct that better things were out there.  It wasn't easy, and he had a rough winter, almost freezing to death, facing more rejection and much self loathing.  

But, as we all know, it ends well with him finding his place and happiness.   

The fable makes me uneasy to be honest.  A lot of it centres around others' reactions to the poor little outcast, and even in the end, the duckling is only happy when he finds acceptance in community of lookalikes. I often find myself on the outskirts of groups - sometimes by choice, but not always, and I wonder if I were to look into that reflective pond as the Ugly duckling did, would I like what I saw as much as he did?

I love swans.  In my family they are known as "Oofs" thanks to K who was delighted by these creatures when we stayed on Eel Pie Island near Twickenham when she was a toddler and inventing words.  They swam gently on the Thames River, coming up to the edge to be admired.  They can be scary creatures too - loud and aggressive when they feel threatened. We took quite a few happy snaps of them that holiday, and Andrew kindly and skillfully painted a couple of pictures which hang in our house. They are  constant reminders to me that reflections of kindness and self acceptance are the positive outcomes of gratitude.

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.

        

 

 

 

 

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.

Satisfactory

 This year is on its last, wobbly, legs. Logical sequence of time seems to have been thrown out my window - was it really just 12 months ago that South Africa was put on the Red list, and all travel plans were summarily chucked in the dustbin? It seems much longer really.  One of the effects of Covid has been to concatenate time and confuse my  memory.  But yes, confusing as it is, this year is hammering towards the finish line.

 

Recognise this  Angel?

Which means it is Christmas time.  For a variety of twinkling reasons, this is not my favourite season. (Spring is!) To give you an example of exactly how Grinchy I can be, the chore I dislike the most is dismantling the Christmas tree and  tidying up the decorations.  When the children were little and we all pretended that Father Christmas, elves, snow in 35 degrees, flying reindeer and toilet rolls covered in crinkle paper, were all absolutely believable and necessary this time of the year,  Christmas did sparkle and have a magic feeling, because children ooze enthusiasm and sincere belief.  I am older and more jaded now, and hearing Jingle Bells and other snowy songs while I trundle around the supermarket  in slip slops and the coolest possible clothing, is more irritating than inspiring.

So we are trying something different this year!  We are off to be closer to the North Pole and experience a winter Christmas.  I am told that a lot of the traditions make more sense in the cold, dark evenings.  I will let you know! 

If I was the letter writing type and believed in Father Christmas, I would only have one word on my wish list: Enough. I was rereading TS Eliot's "Journey of the Magi" the other day.  He talks about the long, rough journey, with men cursing, hostile and unfriendly people, high prices of goods, and sleeping in snatches with voices in their heads saying this was all folly.  Relates to our lives these past few covid/ war/ inflation years perhaps??

And when the wise men finally get through all that, they come to the other side to find conditions "satisfactory."  I love that word.  Somehow we have taken it to mean mediocre - could be better, but originally it meant to make or have enough (Latin for the win.).  And enough is just what we need.

Imagine if everyone had enough - food, water, resources, money, happiness, health.  It would be such a different world. And I think that may be the intention behind Christmas - that we wish enough for all people all over the world.  That would truly be magic. And if Father Christmas can find a special place in his heart for South Africans this year, perhaps he could wrap up some electricity, water, and non corrupt leadership.  It's a big ask, I know.

Wishing you all Enough this festive season.

Notes from an exhibition

Have you ever heard of a small Karoo town called Hanover? No - neither had I until last Saturday. 

 It is almost exactly half way between Johannesburg and Cape Town.  Andrew and I were travelling home from the ElectraMining exhibition and were just looking for a good night's rest.  But what we found beneath the dust and chipped paint of an old village, was a charming guest house with - and this was unexpected- the most beautiful stained glass windows. 

3 Darling Street, Hanover

Hanover is a small place. While we were waiting for our supper at the owner's pub, we left our drinks on the table and took a stroll around the whole village.  It took 15 minutes.  And we did sleep well - loadshedding meant that our government encouraged us to get an early night by turning off the lights at 8pm.

 

Which meant that we could get up early and watch the sun rise from the koppie* .I think this experience might be my highlight of the whole trip.  It involved soft, comforting light, a 360 degrees view of the karoo stretching 60 km into the distant landscape, a sense of peace and a white horse.

 

 

 

It had been a long (good) week.  ElectraMining is a trade show held every 2 years (covid excepting of course) that brings together suppliers and interested parties in all aspects of mining, in the automation, manufacturing and transport fields.  It is held at Nasrec in 5 large halls, with outside space offering excellent viewing of South Africa's Big 5 ( Articulated Dump Trucks, Excavators, Drilling rigs, Bulldozers and Graders) . I enjoyed meeting and speaking to the diverse visitors to the show - boiler makers, MDs, students, management , the curious and the amblers.  We are proud of our work and products, and although I am not a natural sales person, I have my Johannesburg persona, and she worked the floor!

It was exhausting.  Setting up the stand over the weekend after 2 days travel (we overnighted at Bloemfontein on the way up - a land locked city with a Naval Hill....) depleted energy levels.  We had taken up flat pack furniture from Decofurn (think Ikea) for the stand, and the instructions are wordless diagrams that are designed to entertain  (think Frustrate!!) rather than instruct.

By Monday I was feeling feverish and, I am afraid to say, I decorated the streets of Roodepoort with the contents of my stomach.  But we persevered, and ended the week on a high note, giving away in a lucky draw, a radio controlled excavator to one very happy stand visitor.

 

Other important notes and tips from the exhibition:

1. Take your own tea bags.  Coffee drinkers have the pick of the beverages.  You could have caramel coffee, chocolate coffee, frothy coffee, fancy coffee....but no tea. I bought a box of my favourite brand to see me through the exhibition. Towards the end of the week, the lady in hall 9 who dished out the free drinks to the exhibitors, saw me coming towards her, and kindly poured my hot water and milk.  And Andrew's cappuccino.

2. Wear shoes with ankle support.  In the past I have worn flat pumps.  Not a good idea.  This year, I wore closed boot type shoes (No high heels obviously) and my feet survived much better.

3. Proudly fly the flag.  We discovered we were opposite a very large stand offering vaguely similar technology to ours.  It was a foreign company, so we decided to play to our strengths of being a locally designed and manufactured product.  After an internet search we found some South African flags...at a local Chinese market.

4. Strangers are kind generally.  We needed some pages printed 5 minutes before the show opened on the first day. It was a bit of a panic. Printers were in short supply, but the person in the Media office helped with such a kind and gracious attitude.

5. Elevated altitude does not make you look younger. Johannesburg is  1753m above sea level (Cape Town).  We were automatically given the pensioners' discount at the food shop. Sigh.

6. Eye contact makes all the difference.  When talking to people, you can gauge their level of interest or persuade them to stop for a minute by making direct eye contact.  And smiling.

7. Believe in yourself.  One of the best compliments of the week was when someone asked me if marketing was my profession because he could see my passion for being there.

The end of exhibition look!!

 

* a koppie is the South African term for a small hill in a generally flat area.

 

With a bit of spit and polish, this old house will do nicely

 A few years ago we joined Home Exchange.  As implied by the name, it is a scheme to swap homes with another family anywhere in the world, to make holidays more affordable and comfortable.  We almost had our first swap a couple of years ago, but, you know, Covid...

 The angst that comes with leaving your home to strangers is real.  It's daunting. What if it isn't what they are expecting, despite the myriad of photos on the web?  We don't photograph the cracks or idiosyncrasies, do we. We wait for the light to be good, and take "best scenario" photos with the cushions plumped and slightly too short curtains gathered into a fetching pleat.

Or what about the practicalities? Friends who stayed in our house while we were away earlier this year, diplomatically pointed out that our house is, shall we say, "complicated". For us, it is just home, but for newbies getting the hang of the rain water toilet flushing system (and the pump decided to be glitchy just then) or that our hot water is solar panel heated except when it is too cold (and Eskom was making everyone's life difficult just then), or that our alarm is a little fussy about where on the pad you press the button (etc) can be challenging . We blip over all this stuff because we are used to our own muddles and systems, but for visitors it may require some explaining.

Which is why we are working on a home manual.  It includes all the basic information, and the quirks of the home: why our tortoises have to remain in their allocated garden sections; that a neighbouring cat likes jumping on the glass roof of one of the bedrooms (Alarmingly scary if you are not expecting it.) Or how some robins think this is actually their home, and fly in daily to see what's new and happening. Come to think of it , it is quite a long document.  (But indexed - order in chaos)

We are keen to go ahead with the house swap plan anyway.  We love our home, and hope whoever stays in it will love it too.

All this got me thinking.  According to good psychology, houses represent the Self in dreams.  And I wonder if the doubts about imperfections and quirkiness that I have about our home are similar to the doubts I have about myself.  I don't think I am alone here (or am I?) in thinking that sometimes we think we might disappoint others when they get to know the real deal, and not just the social or choreographed  images we share.  We all put on our "best scenario" selves in public, but what about the cracks and cobwebs?  Or perhaps I am too complicated, and sadly, no user manual can help with that - indexed or not.  External (what I look like, what I wear, for example) and internal (am I likeable, do I live my best) insecurities have almost always plagued me.  Nothing, and no-one is perfect, and that is something I can celebrate (yes, celebrate!) more and more the older I get.

I have a few houses that crop up in recurring dreams - one on a distant hill, one on a suburban road - the ying and yang of my life. And I still have dreams about projects I want accomplish and places I want to see in this vast world.  So house swapping seems like a really good idea.   Apparently a lot of home owners share my angst about their homes being suitable - there are lots of FAQ on the topic.

 With a bit of spit and polish, this old house will do nicely.