In 1973, Albert Hammond released the song: The Peacemaker. Little me loved the song, because it gave us permission to use a bad word, and you could not be told off for using it. A reminder for those who can’t remember the song, it goes like this: “Get out, damn it, close the door don’t slam it!” There are always those little things that hover just outside the parameters of the boundaries we set our selves, or when we are young, that are set for us, that allow us a small indulgence without committing the “sin”. A bit like not drinking, but then you order an Amarula Don Pedro, because everyone knows that when it looks like a milk shake, it doesn’t count. Or an ex -smoker standing next to a smoker just to breath in the secondary aroma of a Camel being lit. The joys of just dipping one toe into that pool of whatever it is that you have promised yourself not to do.

This past week, I did a few toe dips. A few wet toes later, it reminded me of a Cape Crawl I wrote some time ago. It was about the things I miss having left the big city and corporate world behind. Time, I write one on the things I do not miss. A few times this past week, I had to remind myself: This is not my monkey. A part of me was tempted to get involved and set the world straight, but no. Not my zoo. I found it very hard to sit back and watch relationship politics develop between people that I have come to like very much. If anything, had I bombed into the furore, I would have asked them: why do this not only to each other, but to yourself. When elephants fight, it is the grass that suffers, and I watched as this affected the community. Oh boy. It was hard to not get involved.

The second toe dip was a bit more challenging, as this time round I chose to not only dip a toe, but also splash around a little. Again, it involved a relationship. One that became collateral damage when two elephants locked tusks. My long-lost nephew made contact, and it was so good to see him. Silly me, I expected a young boy to step out the lift, instead a mature man took his place. I guess time waits for no one. It was good to see him. He has had too many challenges, but he is also an overcomer.

Then, there was another relationship that I had to mend. This one required more than a toe, it called for all of me to dive in nose first. One that I walked away from very many years ago, promising myself not to be back. Well. I humbled myself and went crawling back, begging forgiveness. You see, I have a new favourite hot drink. I am hooked on Golden Latte, and commercially (unless ordered in a restaurant), it can only be bought at Woolies. I broke up with Woolworths years ago, but I am now seeking reconciliation. One box of lattes at a time. This is one of the few relationships where money can buy forgiveness. And happiness.

One toe dip that I have not done in a while, is all of my toes in the waves. Somehow, our beach walks have been less frequent lately. I can offer excuses: Colin is too busy, our building is taking up a lot of time (panicking over silly things is time consuming), but none of these are worthy reasons. I guess life just gets in the way. Or maybe we have just spent just too much time sitting on high ground, looking at the sea, hoping to spot whales. Either way, there is quite a bit of toe dipping to do this weekend.

Colin and I have a wedding anniversary coming up. It is a big one. 30 years. Had you asked young me if I had ever imagined it, I would have told you to get out, damn it, close the door don’t slam it! Yet here we are. I had a chat to a person in the week. He and his wife had just reached the 40-year mark, but instead of celebrating, they are going through a divorce. What brings one to this point after so long I asked him. No. there was no easy answer to my question.  I guess at the end of the day, there are no guarantees. A single person quipped: I am still waiting for the right one to come along. I guess, there never is a Mr/s Right. At the end of the day, it is finding a person that you feel you can make it work with.

This week also marked another milestone on our mountain. The first bricks were laid. Colin and I have this idea of doing a story wall. By now you all know about the Baboon Slip and Slide, aka the very long bit of roof, over a very long passage, which obviously will then have a very long wall. This will become the story wall, with photos of all the firsts: the first clearing, the first foundation, the first concrete and ultimately the first brick going in. Our builder has a keen interest in photography and does take some very attractive photos. Please take us a photo of the first brick, Colin asked. Well, that moment passed. Unrecorded. Builder did take a rather unbecoming photo of his face, as we all do, up the nostrils with eyes squinting in concentration. We do now have a very nice photo of the second brick going in. It’s all good. It makes for a good story to tell.

So much of all the lovely vegetation on the plot had to be cleared and got pushed to the side into a big pile of soil, dead plants, and stone. We could always use it later as compost, we decided. Nature is resilient, I kept telling myself. Five years from now, the growth will have recovered. Maybe, I thought if I keep telling myself this, the devastation will feel less overwhelming. This week, while on site, sitting on my office rock, behind my rock desk, pile of dead garden behind me, some thing caught my eye. There it was. Little spurts of new growth emerging from the pile of dead plants. I suppose there is a lesson some where in this. Perhaps it is time waits for no one. Perhaps it is to grow where you are planted. Perhaps it is when elephants stop fighting, grass can recover. Or maybe it comes down to something as simple as keeping the faith that helped us embark on this journey.

What I do know is this. I look forward to the next 30 years (optimistically said as this will put Colin way beyond 90!)

Only going forward because we can’t find reverse.