Parties and Wedding Bells.

The weekend passed in a swirl. MORE sushi at Minato. It was that good.
 

TWO birthday parties on one night. Mixed Doubles: fun to see who matched who. Ah... so the girl with the furry ears in the ladies room belongs to the guy at the bar, ditto furry ears. Behaving like naughty children in the parking lot. Dancing till 3h30 in the morning at the Kimberley Hotel.

Awoke on Saturday morn to fat plopping raindrops on the pool, but nary a cloud in the sky. Jakkals trou met Wolf se vrou. (The Afrikaans equivalent of a Monkey's Wedding - Jackal marries wife of Wolf.) And then off I zipped to the sleepy hamlet of Stanford, for the union of two lovely, gentle souls.

Where everything grows in lush abundance.
 

The Bride was what all brides should be. Angelic, ethereal, calm and graceful.
 

After the service, there was a procession across the green fields to the place of the party.

Many faces from long, long ago. Champagne and tiny gruyere tarts on the stoep, spilling onto the street. Then rooms leading into rooms, filled with beautiful things and chatter and laughter. Sweet potato and roast lamb with salsa verde. Chocolate cake. Conversations about typography and obscure music. Somewhere, hidden by clouds, a huge orange Harvest Moon. Rain on the tin roof.
 

Later on, my bed was high enough to warrant a step. A feather quilt and an almost dreamless sleep. A walk impeded by mud and breakfast with a favourite family. Home again, home again. Back to week days and crowds and traffic and of course, the morning visitor.