We attend the earliest Mass of the day, trying to enjoy a service sans rug rats with pious mothers warning the little brats in loud whispers about Baby Jesus coming to strike them down if they persist in bleating, banging their expensive toys on the pews and running up and down the aisles during the Eucharist. (They do anyway so I wonder what religion will mean to them at the end of all of this? Ditto the little girl and her mother who managed, no matter where we tried to hide from them, to sit on top of us, as she unwrapped one noisy, edible treat after another throughout the service and devoured them, presumably as a means of keeping her quiet. This included her extravagant Easter Eggs deposited on her pew by the Easter Bunny on Easter Sunday. The sound of the unwrapping of shiny metallic paper surpassed all her cellophane sweety packets in the past. Perhaps we'd have more peace if we went into the cry room provided for them?) So, all this to say that we go to some lengths to try to secure a peaceful corner in which to contemplate our lives and say our prayers. Leaving Mass we place a posy on the plaque of a dearly loved departed friend, and pause for a few moments to give thanks for her friendship and kindness. RIP. The car park resonates with the somewhat melancholic tunes from the saxophonist who takes up residence during the rush hour, which probably gives him a welcome respite from his room in the old age home opposite the church. We appreciate his music and let him know so. On Father's Day he told me that his only child lives in Australia, so what can I say, my heart goes out to him, loneliness being what it is.
Next stop, or step, is Kirstenbosch, also early enough to beat the crowds, where we do a brisk stroll, and marvel, as always at the splendour of this most beautiful of botanical gardens in our very midst. The Tea Room adjacent to the Garden Centre is proving to be our favourite coffee stop (vis a vis my recent posting on the disappointing Moyo Restaurant which has taken up residence on the old Silvertree Restaurant site.) There, the staff are bright and shining when the doors open at 8.30am even on some of the freezing cold mornings we have been there. For R19 we get an excellent capuccino with a biscotti in magnificent surroundings served by smiling staff, so you really can't go wrong. I'm eyeing their High Tea for Two and will fill you in when I've splashed out on a high day. www.ktr.co.za
All going well, we head to Chart Farm in Wynberg to pick roses for home as much as to ogle their views. I've written about the delights of rose picking here before so don't want to bore you, but may this just serve to remind you of how much fun it is to go an select one's own long stemmed, fragrant blooms fresh from the farm. We never tire of it. From here we hotfoot it to St James for a stroll on the walkway, and weather permitting, a dip in the tidal pool. I must add that it can be very pleasant swimming even in winter, perhaps even more so than summer, as barring a few rapid intakes of breath, it is at least uncrowded, and divine to have all that space for frolicking. On occasion we have decided against braving the chilly waters, only to spy two guys messing around in their wetsuits, then we simply can't resist casually stripping off and swimming to the wall, causing them to sulk just a bit and skulk off.
Then it's home for one of Mr SQ's famous Sunday lunches. The kitchen is his sole domain for the day, where he is more than a dab hand. Tradition reigns supreme here, and it's a roast fest or similar, usually accompanied by some bubbles or a good bottle or two of wine. It's a great day to catch up with our daughters, who study or party so hard that we really don't see enough of them any more, so it is our Family Sunday Thing. However, it's also a great opportunity to share a leisurely meal with friends and family. I flicked through our phone book last week, wondering who would like to join us, and wished that many of our nearest and dearest weren't so very far away. That includes Durban, France, Ireland, Jo'burg, New York, Singapore, Switzerland, Uganda, UK, Worcester and more, especially those we shall see sadly no more, whose names I can't bear to erase from our book. So thanks to the two dear friends who dropped all to join us last Sunday, hope they enjoyed the day as much as we did.
Lotsa love,
Suzy Q
PS. And then of course, the Sunday nap calls... No wonder Communism failed!
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