Goodness me! Is this cold or is this freezing?! To
warm-blooded South Africans I believe it is freezing. We finally lit the
wood-burning stove on Wednesday when the gas heater couldn’t cope any more and
the interior temperature battled to get above 9 degrees. Ooh! What a wonderful
feeling as the heat started streaming out and within about an hour had raised
the room temperature to nearly 15 degrees. Now THAT’S what I call warm. We have
also switched on the heated towel rails in the bathrooms and if we remember to
keep the doors closed, it is lovely and warm when one goes to shower.
It has been a cold grey and dreary week all round, but good
for doing indoor chores. I have now got my rusk baking down to a fine art and
the only problem that I have, apart from not being able to get buttermilk, is that
they disappear so fast! I wonder if there is a large mouse in the house? But at
least it gives me a worthwhile task every weekend. Apart from writing the blog,
that is.
The pull-up washing drier/rail that we installed in the cave
is also proving to be a real boon. It is surprisingly dry down there, in spite
of the wetness all around, and washing will dry almost overnight. It is so good
that I haven’t even been into the garden behind the house since we returned
from the UK, which is where the proper washing lines are. In any case the weather
changes from dry to wet and back again in an eye-blink and we would be forever rushing
in and out retrieving semi-dry clothes from the line.
We also need to take our flower boxes and put them in the
cave to ‘winter’. I can’t believe this will work but it is worth trying.
Apparently if the geraniums are put in a dry dark place they will survive the
winter and will regenerate next season. They have been such a joy this year with
their endless flowering, and even now, there are still a few buds popping open,
so we must try to save them. The petunias, sadly, are finally dead but I think
they have to be replanted every year anyway. They gave a wonderful show for
several months though.
We had to leave for the UK just as the fig tree was coming
into its best. There was a massive crop so we told all the neighbours to come
and pick whenever they wanted too. Next year I want to make some jam because we
both adore fig jam. We managed to find a couple of properly ripe ones before we
left, so we know that they are super-delicious and super-sweet. I’m not
normally a fan of figs, or guavas. I always have to open the fruit and stare at
the inside for a long time to make sure none of the little fibres are moving,
before I can eat it, but ours don’t seem to have any worms, thank goodness.
Because we are both over 60, we got a letter in the post
some time ago telling us that it was time to have a flu injection and that we
could get it at the chemist. But it was bit of a surprise to discover that they
just provided the filled syringe (for free) but the actual injection would have
to be done by a district nurse or someone like that. I did my own, but for some
reason Neels wasn’t around to get his and a day or two later he developed a
growly throat which stayed with him for a few days. He didn’t develop any
further signs of a cold so a few days later, I gave him his injection. Now he is
lying in bed coughing now and again but otherwise looking and sounding fine. I
hope it is just an excuse to spend a day in a nice cosy bed and not that I have
actually given him the dreaded influenza.
Sorry it is such a short chapter this week, but when there
is nothing to write about there is nothing that I can write.
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