P: And why the fuck shouldn’t she be?
S: It was a rough start at school but it’s true. I’m over it.
P: The weather is better except that the houses are not insulated so it’s cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey in the mornings. Getting warmer every day…
The food is better. In general it just is. The breads – she gets a fresh loaf every morning. It could be rye sourdough, or Farmer’s white, a seed loaf or a baguette. Hot out of the oven at 7am. Even the bagged iceberg lettuce from Woolworth is better. It looks better: no wilted brownish edges; it is crispier and it lasts longer. And now that She has discovered Saturday markets – oh my Lord. She finally got the shi shi mushrooms – the porcini, from the Mushroom Man. The Seaweed Burrito Boy gave her a list of where to buy the freshest fish; Fish From Africa in Hout Bay, the best groceries at SPAR in the Cape Quarter. I thought he was sending her to a SPA. I thought, well that’s bold.
The dried out stringy rotten flesh from dead animals that hangs around all over the place – they call it biltong – is probably better than a pepperoni nitrate stick but I’m a Vegetarian Predator. Wrap your head around that one and get back to me if you must. Not going to try it.
The beer is not better. She tried — a Bees Beer? South African shandy type something that was a craft lager, with fynbos honey, lime and soda. It was delish.
The artisanal mandarin gin — delish.
Now, for those of you that know her well, this next one is going to be hard to swallow but it’s true – her house -at least the view, is better.
Here is the view from the toilet this morning.