Fall hits Joburg

Yesterday, in the evening my feet were actually a little cold. 

Gasps of horror.

I might actually have to wear socks in this country. 

Dang! 

I thought being in Africa meant that it would always be warm and I would be longing to wear a loincloth of some sort, but I also thought that Mexico would be filled with poncho-clad guys in big sombreros sleeping by a cactus with a half-empty bottle of tequila, or that Paris would be filled with waif-like women wearing berets, with baguettes dangerously close to their armpits. 

I am such a country bumpkin. I guess the weather serves me right, for entertaining Disney views of entire nations and cities. 

Anyhoodles, not going to wear socks until my toes actually turn blue.   

A serious talk with Mama Africa

I might just have to take back what I said previously about having found a country where I never have to wear socks. 

South Africa, I'm taking away some of the points I have given you. It is inhumanely cold right now, and the water coming down from the skies every time I dare to step out of the door is just really unfair, and stripping away some of the love I have for you. Don't get me wrong, I love the frequent thunderstorm shows, just not when I'm trying to sleep, or actually have to go somewhere. South Africa, my husband's hogging my car, so I have to walk. I am refusing to buy an umbrella, while all of mine sail on the Atlantic!

Mama, I am giving you a chance now. Like I said to the first maid: "This is your choice. Either you want to work for me or you don't. Prove to me that you want to continue our relationship." South Africa, stop mooning me and be my friend again. Remind me why I love you. 

Also, South Africa, while I'm at it. Please remove the bedbugs (deemed as such after an entire morning of googling bites, manifestations and such), and please never plague us with such frightening things again. Still, I understand you might not be responsible for them, and I should perhaps point my accusing finger to where everyone else's fingers are also pointing: the government. And that would be an entirely different post.

The most amazing show on the air

The big thing right now amongst our friends seems to be the dstv decoder that also records (and apparently offers you a multitude of other cool functions I'm completely oblivious to). I have been told that there are so many interesting shows and other entertainment on television at the moment, or starting this month, that one has to simply record all of it. I have been missing something worth watching, so I'll be happy if this turns out to be true. All I know about the upcoming attractions is that at least I'll have Louis Thereoux's zany documentaries to look forward to! 

However, the best show on air just happened (again, but even cooler than normal) outside my patio windows. I pulled up a chair, sat back, and enjoyed the craziness that is South African weather.

Earlier today, as I was driving back towards the estate, some droplets caught my windshield, and for once I was actually in my full right to use the wipers. Hurrah! I also almost ran into a pick up truck (those pesky stop signs again), but more on that some other time. Anyway, as I drove into the third gate towards my house it really started raining. The wind picked up, and I could hear a distant rumble. The neighborhood nuisances were herded back inside by their (I'm starting to think very rude) mother, and I could enjoy the childless, birdless, and cricketless sound scenery. 

As I pulled up my chair - that I use for this purpose only, because it smells of beans and death, and is very suspect in its rented existence - I could hear a powerful crack as the lightning struck just behind the garden wall. Lucky little bastards, the neighborhood pests. The lightning struck very close more than a couple of times, and the rumble did not subside for a whole 15 minutes. It felt like night at one in the afternoon. Almost like watching a horror movie. You know what is coming, but you jump and scream anyway. Points to South Africa.

It is awesome how little it takes to make my day.