We want the creeper to grown on the house, but this might be a bit excessive!
No writing tonight, and I have no excuse other than the fact that the three missing bags finally arrived today, plus the missing carton of camping equipment, and the house has looked like a bomb site ever since.
I haven't been further than the front gate all day and therefore have nothing of any interest or excitement to impart, other than the thrilling information that I am going to the dentist tomorrow to have a nerve killed in my tooth. Since it has been killing me all week, I reckon it has got it coming but I am none too sure about how Jean is going to cope with being in such close proximity to things like novocaine (of which there had better be a lot) and the sound of drills (of which I hope there is not so much).
The dustbin got emptied which goes to show that if you hang on long enough, the bin men will come along.
Farewell Thabo Mbeki. It sounds like a bit of a sad day for South Africa, but maybe the ship of state will get back on course once more. I have friends in America who are worried sick about the state of their finances, and I must confess that I am rather glad that the baby spinach is looking healthy and we could always survive on acorns judging by the number that plop down onto the car every day. It's a funny old world, but I am very content with my bit of it.
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