It occurred to me tonight that I really hadn’t done a lot this weekend. I have a running list of ‘to dos’ that I write religiously into my diary each week. A small sample: springclean the spare room and storage space in the roof to work out what we have and what I need to buy for the McGregor house, finish some free-lance writing, sort out summer clothes, catalogue the kitchen equipment, bake a cake for Jack’s homecoming (Hannah told me a girl in her class was also adopted, and each year the whole family celebrated the day she came home to them. So we’ve embraced the idea). Teeth clean, haircut/dye, pedi-mani, book yearly mammo, go to yoga, service car etc. I didn’t leave the house all day on Saturday but to take Jack for a couple of walks. And somehow still, I got none of it done.
Which was frustrating to realise as I transcribed my list into next week’s pages. Especially as I am going to Durban on Tues and Weds to site visit a few schools – so will be even further behind.
A friend of mine had a horrible weekend – his son was mugged at gunpoint and had his ID docs and phone stolen. Then his beloved dog was attacked by a viscious mutt and hurt badly. The comments to his facebook posts were split down the middle – glass half full/glass half empty style. Rejoice that your son is alive and unharmed was tempered with … typical bloody SA, this country is going to hell. Thank heavens your pup is ok and will heal … was countered by… that other dog should be shot – the owner too.
I came down on the glass half full side – the potential for disaster inherent in both circumstances was considerable. And the loss of either life would have been traumatic. But in addition to all this, Staff had come home the weekend before to find his garden under feet of raw, wet sewage – which was was threatening his pool. Took most of the week to sort it out.
So he is having none of anyone’s optimistic nonsense.
I pulled myself up short, thinking about this and decided to take stock of what I had actually done instead of whining about what I hadn’t done.
Friday I ran errands: rear-screen wiper blade replaced on the car, clothes returned to Zara and Woolies, renewal of license tried but aborted through sheer weight of humans at the license bureau, beaded giraffe delivered to Monkeybiz for some reconstructive surgery, repaired crockery collected (nothing like three kids knocking around the house to make this a necessity), petrol tank filled. I also did some work, met kids at Cavendish where we had Dairy Maid ice-creams dipped in chocolate and nuts for lunch and shopped for fresh food. We came home and I made guacamole for a snack mid-afternoon, covered school books, read the paper, took Jack for walk, watched the lunatics as they ran in the water and then propelled them under the shower to cleanse their stinky selves.
Then we went out for supper to the local Catholic Church’s “International Food Evening.” The nans’ father was here on his monthly visit to see the kids – and we all usually go to a market for dinner together on the first night, so this was perfect. I don’t go to church – but my parents support St Stephens when they are here – and their great friends Marlene and Mel man the crepe stand. The kids had a blast and ate their weight in food from all over the world. We seat-danced and sang along to the cover band, drank Irish coffees, ate poffertjies and didn’t win the gingerbread house or wine raffles. Despite Jasper entering 20 times. We agreed it was rigged.
Saturday was a bacon and pancake breakfast, singing to Jack, some writing, dog walks, housework. I roasted off a chicken and made curry. Then the kids came home and we watched a Miley Cyrus movie called LOL that was mortifyingly explicit about teenage sex. Put them to bed, had glass of wine and watched Top Chef and NYPD Blue reruns.
Today – more breakfasts, more writing, more walks, fresh apple and carrot juice pressed, a batch of chicken stock brewed. Then; coffee and cake in Kalk Bay with my friend Jen. Dinner was a smoked tuna and lemon spaghetti with salad and a big glass of red wine. I boiled up ostrich for Jack for the week. Then I tidied up, skyped with camparigirl, had a bath. And here I am now …writing this.
I did a lot. All simple. All sweet. All a pleasure. I might not have done everything I needed to do, but I certainly did everything I wanted to. And you know, I’ll get to the rest when there’s less life happening immediately and spontaneously, around me.
(all images copyright campari&sofa)