Heart strings, part two.

Readers! A big thank you for all of your positive comments, your letters and the likes on my page in the past few weeks. For someone who wants to make writing a much more important pursuit, it has been a balm for my heart.

These are the days I dream about when I'm working. Lazy mornings - coffee in bed - a second cup even. The sweetling child is visiting and that makes everything feel like a holiday.

On a slow stroll through town, we came across an extraordinary small man speaking in tongues. He spoke duck and cat and dog and chicken and sheep. He finished off in mourning dove. I should have taken his number as there are things I would like to ask him.

The winsome Marie invited me over to forage at her parents house in the green belt. Gum-booted and rain-coated, we made our way over to where the chickweed grows, only to have the heavens open wide. Then again, who needs chickweed when you can lie around the fireplace drinking Moët and eating smoked salmon? I practised a bit of corgi mesmerizing and then they did some spellbinding of their own.

The next day I tried a different method on a cat named Lucy. It also seemed to work. But there was brushing involved, so maybe it was that...

It's been a busy weekend and my heartstrings are still quivering after all the music...

At the door the security guard asked, pointing to the youngest - and he's eighteen right? I answered Of course! And that was that. He must have been the only twelve year old there and what fun we had. On friday night, at my left shoulder, I spotted Clare Danes - in town shooting Homelands. She was wearing a small trench coat with bright red lips. And a very big scowl.

In the bathroom I ran into Miss Hannah Parmandaram - we reminisced about the good old days of High Five. She was DJ-ing on the electronica stage, which we missed entirely.

There was so much to see and it was all astounding. We bumped into old friends and made a few new ones. Madala Kunene had good advice for the young one - he said: Boy, take two hours with the guitar every day - keep in touch with it. Then he said: And stay away from effects. Effects is the robber - play straight.

I often think of South Africa as a bipolar place. The highs and lows are equally intense. The feeling of bonhomie at these gigs is so high and so good. You can catch anyone's eye and you're guaranteed a smile. We all stood swaying, in the air the warm smells of patchouli, clean sweat - river water and sunlight. Standing next to me, watching Tata Madala play, was a diminutive Grace Jones and her girlfriend, an equally tiny pale girl with long lashes. Every now and then they would give each other a kiss of such exquisite tenderness that my heart strings got into a right tangle. Around us women ululated.

Then there was Sannie Fox, black Fender Strat slung over her shoulder. Better than Polly Jean. Better than Peaches. Badass personified, but she brought her mother up on stage to sing with her and waved to her grandmother. And before her, this lovely man of humour and virtuosity - Guy Buttery.

But. My favourite of all was Bongeziwe Mabandla. Only twenty six, I predict he is on a path of greatness. Music, sweet music.

Red Roman and what it is about Catnip.

That Production Designer, he grilled it over the coals with garlic butter. Delicious. The taste and texture is reminiscent of crayfish, with a delectable crisp skin. The Lovely Girlfriend made a big salad of sliced ginger, carrot, beetroot, avocado and greens. Oven roasted Mediterranean potatoes. One could want for nothing more.
 

I took along a punnet of Catnip for the furry ones. What entertainment!

Whilst reading up about it this morning, I came across these amusing facts:

Nepeta cataria is mostly used as a recreational substance for feline enjoyment.

Catnip is not harmful to your cat. They won't overdose on it.  Most cats know when they've had enough & will refuse any further offers. 

( I like that: "most cats"... )
We wondered last night if the big cats are also susceptible to Catnip and I am happy to report:

Tigers, cougars, bobcats, lions and lynx also respond to nepetalactone, the active ingredient in catnip. 
 

 It's difficult to photograph a cat when he's spending time with the herb, what with all that rolling around and puffy tail-swishing. The Morning Visitor did what was to be expected...

It waxes gibbous.

A difficult, even dangerous day in all astrological traditions. It is suited only for struggles with enemies and the destruction of anything outmoded. On this day, good deeds and noble actions may bring a very different result to the one you had been hoping for. It isn't suitable for starting anything important, especially connected with earning money. Marriage is undesirable, and you should also avoid drunks.

 Oh dear. I have a nasty cold. Luckily there are movies to watch. There is miso soup with rice noodles and crunchy mange tout and baby corn. The Morning Visitor has extended his visit and lies purring on my best blanket. Seems I chose a good day to stay in bed.