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.

On waking up

A convenient lack of obligations in Cape Town means that we can eke out our stay in Agulhas until Monday, thus (hopefully) avoiding all of the holidaymakers heading home this weekend.

Unless they’ve all had the same idea. I hadn’t considered that.

Anyway, that’s the plan and we’re sticking to it. It will mean a bit of an early start on Monday though, and that could be problematic.

Generally, I don’t struggle with getting up early. I mean: I’d rather not, but who honestly likes dragging themselves from a nice warm bed at 6 in the morning to get the kids ready and off to school and to feed the beagle?
Add to that the late night drama of the previous evening’s football from the UK with its 2 hour delay, and I might rightfully feel a bit knackered. But generally, I just get up, get it done and all is well. However, while in holiday mode, things have changed. A late night is now 10:30pm and an early morning is anything before 9am. And then I’ve been slipping in the odd afternoon nap as well.
I don’t have any problem with my behaving this way – it’s a holiday after all – but I think that getting back into the swing of things is going to be rather tough.

And so a trip tomorrow morning to a destination access to which is very much low tide dependent will certainly be test. Especially given that low tide is at 0928 tomorrow. And that means waking up at around 7am.

I’m not sure how I’m going to manage, but watch this space for more details…

Small

Spotted earlier on some site or other – just how small are a virus?
Well, that depends on your virus, of course. But basically: really small.

I’m sitting here chilling in the braai area at the cottage with my laptop, a wifi router, Nemone’s Electric Ladyland wind down playlist on Spotify slipping gently through my Sony Bluetooth speaker and my seventeenth Milk Stout of the day.

Portishead – Roads. Incredible moments. [link]

It feels like I’ve somehow slipped into someone else’s life. Someone far, far cooler than me, but still with the same great taste in music and beer.

Remarkable.

Nearly forgot (twice)

One of those days where time just slips by so easily. Visitors, an afternoon chilling in the sun before an evening braai. It’s all good, until you remember that you need to write a blog post.

I hadn’t quite forgotten, honestly. In fact, I was just settling down in front of the fire, under impractical, romantic lantern light, with my first brandy this week (I haven’t been 100%) to pop some words onto the site when the huge beetle hit the back of my neck. And in the shock of that, I did almost forget that you readers deserve some verbiage.

So this is it. I’m sitting in front of a cosy, if now slightly past it, braai fire, the sounds of the South Atlantic and a-ha’s 2010 concert in Oslo vying for my aural attention, and yes, that glass of brandy in my hand, and yes, that beetle on the back of my neck.

I’ll be honest: it’s not a bad situation.

Apart from the beetle, obviously.

Away

Tethered (not in a 50 Shades… way) to my tablet’s tenuous internet connection, I thought I should fire off a quick missive from the cottage. For the record, let it be known that I am quite, quite drunk and I am listening to T’Pau’s first (only?) album.
We drove down in the new car; and what fun. So much of power.

It’s been a day dominated by the wind – a gale force north westerly hangover from last night’s cold front, but I’ve still been up a ladder in the lee of the cottage, removing dead birds and living plants from the gutter. My life is so glamorous.

image

A quick visit to the beach, a couple of beers, a braai and a rather decent Cabernet Sauvignon from 2007 and I’m now sitting in front of a cosy log fire.

Life could be worse…