Winter

Winter in the Western Cape: at this time of year it seems like you blink and you’ve missed it. Having grown up with those long grey English winters which linger for endless months with depressingly short days, our South African winters are a joy.

There are rain storms and bunches of grey days for sure, but in between are those jewel-like days when the sun shines, you peel off your layers and bask outside in T-shirts. You’re almost sure of at least two days a week to get your laundry dry on the line, at least we are here, with a north-facing stoep sun-trap and a nice long line.

And yet you can be chillier here than ever I remember being in England. No central heating, and in these days of electricity price hikes, no electric heaters either. Just the one ceramic fireplace to warm the whole house. When the snow is on the mountains and the wind freezing cold despite the sunshine, we huddle in more layers than the Michelin man, with hats and gloves on inside, wrapped in blankets at the computer and on the sofa. But I don’t miss that central heating one bit.

And here we have flowers in winter.

First the tiny gems of oxalis poking their heads up from the sand. Then their cousins of the oxalis family, the longer stemmed citrus yellow sorrel, join in.

These are the ones that our kids used to pick in bunches outside their kindergarten, sucking the sour lemony stems after school, while their mothers chatted and lingered.

Glowing aloes are next, hot coal embers of orange and red. 

The golden shower isn't indigenous ( Pyrostegia ignea from South America)  but it adds a brilliant wall of orange ...

and the yellow daisy bush (Chrysanthemoides monilifera) adds the last dash of sunset to the palette.

The September bush (Polygala myrtifolia) seems to flower almost all year round but its hot pinks are just that bit of clashing colour needed to avoid getting all matchy matchy.

Finally the proteas bring some subtlety to the show with their sugary pinks and sculptural form.

And the bees have a ball all through winter, gathering nectar from aloes, protea and the golden shower, so that they make it through to spring in good shape.

I took all these pictures two weeks ago and already spring is snapping at the heels of winter, chasing it onwards with a snowfall of daisies, even while the snow on the far mountains keeps us from thinking winter is completely over.

I’ll have another cluster of flower pictures very soon, as all the early spring flowers are coming out in a rush now, even as the winter ones are still in mid song.

Spring Flowers, Winter Snows

It’s that time when winter and spring are fighting it out again. Spring sends sunshine to lure out the daisies, so that they carpet the ground in snowdrifts, dazzling to the eye.

Winter sends rainstorms that drum on the tin roof and close up the daisies for days on end. Winter leaves blankets of snow on distant mountains that spring lights up with sunshine as a fitting background for the dazzle of daisies.

Snow on the distant mountains, sunshine opening up the daisies

What distant mountains, rain driving across, daisies tight closed

A hare lolloping through the daisies

We peel off our layers in spring’s warm embrace, wander among the flowers and make daisy chains.

Only to retreat under five layers of clothes and blankets onto the sofa when winter once more gains the upper hand.

Log fires and soups one day, salads and sandwiches eaten on the stoep in the sun another, or often both on the same day.

While the rest of the country was covered in unexpected snow, we  just got rain, which peeled away to reveal snow on the mountains, but none right here, right now.

Our kids would happily exchange the daisy carpet for one of snow, just to experience it once. I prefer the daisies. But then I grew up in England and know the cold of snow-drenched toes, the thrill of sliding down a snowy slope on a sack, the joy of being snowed in and unable to go to school.

Today winter is winning, it rained all night. But spring knows that it only has to be patient. A few more weeks and winter will be a distant memory, while spring unfurls its most colourful flowers, blows hot and cold on us, brings out the miggies and horseflies just to make sure we don’t get too complacent in the midst of all that beauty.

Soon the yellow and pink daisies will join the carpet, the dazzling white will turn to gold, but somehow I have a sneaking fondness for those first hard won days of spring, with snow on the mountains and snowdrifts of daisies cheering on each day of sunshine.

Jewels of colour in the middle of all that white 

Last year's flowers were also stunning. Here are two posts if you want more flowery beauty!
Dawdling through the Daisies
Spring Flowers and Sunshine

Birthday Spoils

Some birthdays are painful reminders of the years passing, hurtling you onwards into incipient middle age. But they can be opportunities for three days of pampering and indulgence, the equivalent of a spring makeover, courtesy of the family pulling out all the stops to spoil you rotten!

That is what I got this year and I feel like a new woman, the wrinkles of age banished by a new haircut, a deep tissue massage to sort out the computer-knotted back and a shopping session with my mother to get some flattering new clothes to replace my baggy old winter uniform of fading jeans and cotton rib Gap pullover from twelve years ago. Not to forget my new film star sunglasses discovered in a sale next door to the hairdresser and secured as a pressie by a hurried sms to my husband.


Thus fortified I took the rest of the day off work and drifted around in a leisurely fashion, stopping by the sofa now and then to throw pills and remedies down our flu-struck son, read my book, planted out the lobelia and pansies that the children bought me to replace my unfortunate nasturtiums and had a photo session with a professional photographer (whose services I acquired for life by marrying him), to capture the glamorous new look, before the careful hairdresser blow-dry was lost forever.

The evening saw a flurry of activity in the kitchen as my two sisters-in-law and mother cooked dinner for all the grown-ups and my husband rustled up sausage and mash for the two healthy children. I was surplus to requirements and so took the unusual luxury of a late-afternoon shower to get the compost from under my fingernails and then went and watched Willow with the children while the others finished getting dinner ready. It was delicious too – tender oxtail stew and chicken and mushrooms with an abundance of fresh organic vegetables brought that afternoon from Spier.

And then a whole weekend to recover from being so spoilt and gradually resume my usual household duties, before Monday demanded the juggling act of work, children and cooking once more.

I hesitated to post this, as it sounded like a birthday gloat when I re-read it, but I want to make sure everyone knows how much my birthday spoiling is appreciated, and now reality is back in place again I want to remind myself of how good it felt too!

Our son is almost recovered from the flu now and starting to boss us all around again, which is a sign of return to normal.

Autumn Flowers

Flowers in soft-focus and now I know why – my whole world has been in soft focus for a while now and the optician has told me I need to start wearing glasses all the time, not just when my arms aren’t long enough. The silver lining is that maybe I’ll be able to see the details sharply once again: that sparkle in the children’s eyes, the sheen on a rose petal, the texture in a stone. The colours will look brighter through the right lenses... and my husband assures me that the frames I've chosen are sexy!


Flowers on our table all week long – a bouquet of golden roses that over a few days opened fully from bud to scented full-blown flower: a gift from Charlotte when she brought her children to lunch here and our blogs finally met in person. Thanks Charlotte for the gorgeous flowers – they have inspired both of us to a frenzy of flower photography and have smelt wonderful all week!


Flowers in waiting: my sister-in-law ordered a load of bulbs this year and surprised me with a present of some bags of daffodil and snowdrop bulbs, remembering my nostalgia for those English spring flowers. I spent this afternoon planting them, tucking them carefully into flower beds among other plants that I hope will shelter them and encourage them to flower. There’s something very therapeutic on a damp autumn day in planting bulbs for spring – you leapfrog over winter and are envisaging bright blooms and fresh sunshine, even as the days are closing in and the evening chill sends you hurrying indoors at sunset.


Flower therapy: despite my stiff back (because once outside you can’t just plant a few bulbs, and end up pruning back lavender and rose geranium until a couple of hours have fragrantly passed and you find that you can no longer stand up straight…) despite the aching muscles, I feel revived by the time spent outside with growing things. I can still smell the rose geranium on my skin and in my hair and there is a buzz of energy and a lightness that wasn’t there yesterday after a day lolling inside over a book.

And the Bride Wore Red

You all wanted to see the pics so here they are! I had to take photos of the photograph album, so the quality is a bit dodgy but you get the idea.

First of all with my Dad waiting halfway up the garden while they get themselves sorted inside.

Then the rings - such concentration. And nasturtiums in my hair.

It's done!

Lunch in the apricot orchard.

Posts to post

There are so many posts mulling in my mind but a faulty connection between my head and my computer has left them there, probably marinating nicely, but the blog cupboard has been sad and bare this last week.

I wanted to tell you about the school photos that I took again this year, coaxing smiles out of all but the coolest kids in the older classes; of my newly discovered Photoshop skills, whereby the spotty foreheads of the newly teenage girls have been smoothed gently into the background like a miracle acne cure, still discernible but not glaring out angrily in the spotlight - if only we could apply Photoshop to real life spots and wrinkles!

I've been meaning to post about my first ever attempt to cook artichokes - and still will, soon, soon, soon.

I've missed several food blogging events that I meant to write for - Apples and Thyme at Vanielje Kitchen, a lovely idea celebrating the food heritage that mothers pass on to daughters and shared kitchen moments, but we get another chance in December, so I'll make sure I do then; Cooksister's WTSIM topless tart has a deadline soon - I baked quiches last weekend and an apple tart today and, sin of food blogging sins, forgot to photograph them - maybe I'll write them up anyway.

Then Middle Daughter wanted her dolls house family to have their own story, so ideas have been swirling in my head for that. Her dolls house is currently occupied by a two-by-two procession of animals and the dolls have moved all the furniture out, with leopards prowling past the bunk beds, so I'm sure there is plenty of material there.

My son's first ever Class camp happens tomorrow - the whole class is spending its first ever night away at a nearby National Park and I blithely offered to go along as a helper.

I also undertook to bake enough bread for everyone for the two days and then added crunchies and muffins to the list, because I can't bear to think of the possibility of us going hungry. So this weekend I have been turning our kitchen into a bakery and churning out the loaves, as I also need to put enough in the freezer for the family while I'm away - for one whole night!

In a minute I'm going to tear my son away from the cricket and we'll set about the serious business of packing - the park has a gorgeous lagoon and we're supposed to have plenty of relaxed time on the beach …only there's a cold front predicted, so we need to pack minimally for all eventualities.

So I'll leave you with Youngest's latest work of art

Christmas is coming and the Princess and her Child have been decorating!

Spring Flowers - a Photographic Road Trip

Gorgeous mature coral tree at Groote Post

Not only did we eat a wonderful leisurely lunch in a beautiful place for our wedding anniversary, we then indulged ourselves by going for a pottering drive along the quiet, dirt roads and stopping every kilometer or so, whenever I saw a flower I just had to photograph.

Wind, wispy clouds and wheat

It's been a long time since we've done that - with kids in the car we're generally trying to whisk ourselves to our destination before grumpiness sets in. We've also temporarily switched roles, it is usually my husband the photographer, screeching to a halt on the verge to catch the moment. This time I was in charge of the camera and it was me shrieking out to him to stop, whenever a new flower flooded my vision.

It is nearly the end of the flower season on the West Coast, the carpets of daisies already gone to seed, but there were plenty of bright patches of colour. So I've put you together a photographic flower road trip for you.

There were so many chinchirees everywhere that is was hardly a crime to pick five, one for each member of the family.

Wild watsonias make spots of hot colour in a dry field by the road, with Table Mountain mistily in the background.

Banks of pink daisies massed along the road side, and trust me Table Mountain is still there in the background!

More pink daisies washing towards the sea.

Pink vygies cluster into the dark rocks at Grotto Bay.


Pretty aren't they!

Wild orange gazanias set the hills on fire.

Wild flowers trying to emulate a municipal planting. Vygies and Chinchirees.

A river of purple winding along the valley.

Pink vygie bushes like confetti along the verge.

I had to put in an arum lily, even though this shot isn't the best as they were still gallantly flowering in all the damp places. I stopped to pick three to take home to remember our wedding day - these were the flowers I carried twelve years ago, freshly picked from a ditch that morning.