A Lazy Sunday Afternoon

1384034_58927652It’s no secret how much I love the rain. So I’m happy today on this autumnal Joburg Sunday, with the sound of rain falling on our tin roof, a glass of red wine by my side and a beef stew bubbling in the oven.

Sometimes Sundays make me feel blue. We used to blame it on our boarding school days, because Sundays were always the days we had to leave our parents and head back to school. It’s amazing how that feeling can remain with you, even decades after leaving school, that feeling of being a little alone, of really missing something or someone and the knowledge that Monday is bringing with it some things you may have been dreading.

These things used to be tests or exams but now they could be presentations or pitches or work you’ve been putting off. I suppose even once you retire, it could be things like doing your taxes or seeing the dentist or renewing your driver’s licence. All the things a life requires, but which just aren’t enjoyable.

I’m loving the slow creep of autumn into our days. We’re so lucky in South Africa that we get “just enough” of summer, so that when cooler weather starts to visit us, we don’t PANIC (like I did in England). Instead we feel thankful for long sweaty swimming pool days, but start to dust off our boots and our scarves with relish.

Our Winters are short, and Winter clothes are expensive, so we’re all quick to pile on the warmer gear, even when the weather might not quite require it yet. I’ve seen lovely ladies wearing their Hunter wellies to Hyde Park shopping centre when it’s really not very cold and they obviously haven’t been wading through muddy fields to get there, as well as women in their jodhpurs who obviously did not ride their horses there either.

But Hyde Park is kind of like that, a “parallel universe” as someone referred to it on Twitter, where everyone tries to pretend they’re somewhere else, while they buy their imported French baby clothes, try on Italian leather shoes or snack on dainty and ridiculously priced dim sum. I’ve been guilty of the latter but the prices of the French and Italian goods (especially for tiny babies!) puts me firmly out of their target market.

We’ve had such a wonderful weekend with both the kids. I just look at both of them and my heart does a little scrunching up thing. We make these little lives and we don’t expect much and then they just amaze us every day with their quirks and their sense of humour, and their wisdom in a way.

Ben’s attachment to me is still there but he’s a lot happier since he finally started crawling properly and can head out on his own and explore the world and rely less heavily on his Mom. But then there are those moments where he fits his soft head under my chin and leans into me and I breathe the smell of him in and I think, how did I ever wish this to go away? Soon he won’t want me at all and I will miss this.

So today is a day of feeling grateful, of taking stock and of being reflective. Hope you have a similarly wonderful Sunday – and good luck with whatever this week brings.



Image from stock.xchng


3 thoughts on “A Lazy Sunday Afternoon

  1. Know all about boarding school and depressing Sundays and in my day, we only went out twice a term and my folks lived in Malawi and we were in Byo. HATED – and still do – Sundays. My son was also at boarding school and he feels exactly the same! I’m in Springs and have thoroughly enjoyed the rain but I don’t have the wine 😦 Enjoy your evening!

  2. I’m loving the rain! Except I forgot to check the forecast before doing laundry! So have clothes that have been wet since Saturday! Hmmm that’s my cue to get a tumble dryer

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s