The flight of the olive trees

I am flying back home tomorrow with not one, not two, but three young olive trees in my left hand/ ‘hand luggage’. I have absolutely no idea whether or not there are any regulations in this country against the transport of olive trees by air, and whether or not the poor, tried together meticulously packaged saplings will survive this great journey. Although it is bound to be the greatest adventure they will ever have, and when they are old the will probably tell their your seedlings about it under the glow of a Lowveld sunset…

Have you seen this bag?

Probably not, right, but I reaaly loved it. (It was stolen) It was like a pet almost; it was always happy to see me and smelt like a bag should smell. And perfectly sized. And we were compatible. So a shrine, almost. (And y’all get to see the contents of my handbag, and my feet…)

My parents moved to paradise

If you’ve spent any amount of time in conversation with me during the last while (say, two years or so) you would be aware of the fact that my parents have Moved. This was an extremely long process, which actually took about five years. The process is, however, finished, and after the break-in-incident (but not because of it) I spent seven days at the house. It’s beautiful; set semi-in-the-bush and designed to capitalise on the breathtaking views (in all directions).

The first morning that I woke up in my new bedroom, to the sounds of birds and bugs and soft light in the valley, and I though I was in paradise. I opened the curtains and the door to the balcony (careful not to fall down the three-storey drop into the valley) and went back to sleep, only to awake later to a similar thought. However, this feeling only lasted two or three mornings.

I driving on the M3 in Cape Town yesterday, on the stretch out of town around the mountain. This has always been one of my favourite bits of Cape Town, as has the most stunning view of the sea, the harbour and the city from exactly the right angle. And I realised how long it has been since I had actually appreciated how beautiful this piece of earth is.

Which is when I realised why people (people like me) like to travel. It’s not just about seeing other beautiful places, but enabling oneself to continue to appreciate the beauty of the place you live. Because it fades. Or it fades with ones perception of it.

Just a list

I had all these beautiful, sad, poignant and beautifully written blog posts planned in my head about The Thing That Happened (about 5 or so), but all that seems to be going into the great out there is this – some lists.

 Things I am Thankful for about My Flat Being Robbed

1) That I was not killed or raped

2) That I did not yell – this would have resulted in the former – which is probably as result of that fact that;

3) After I knew that the intention was not (1), I was not scared.

4) That I didn’t have to sleep there the next night.

5) That they didn’t take my pretty clothes, tv, music, computer etc.

6) Having to get a new driver’s means that I don’t have to get one next year. 

7) That my ID book wasn’t in the handbag that was stolen.

8 ) That there was still milk to put on my cereal…

 Really Awful Things About My House Being Robbed

1) Strangers came into my house and threatened to shoot me

2) No more internet

3) I loved that bag! (It was like a pet to me)

4) I loved that wallet! (It was all coral-coloured and pretty!)

5) I really really loved that watch.

 6) The drizzly rain that morning.

So few things, actually