perfect Saturday

You'd think a Saturday couldn't be perfect when you have to wake with an alarm at 06h45. But it was.

I woke before anyone else in the house, and had only myself to fed and dress. A brief bit of excitement as I chased a nasty neighbourhood cat across the pre-dawn cool lawn - but that did nicely to wake me up proper and get some adrenalin flowing through sleep-deadened limbs.

I was on the road by 07h30, stopping for a coffee which I drunk, by myself, watching a red sun rise over Kalk Bay harbour.

Then on to Frieda's school were I did my duty for four hours, (wo)manning a stall at their annual Secondhand Sale. I made some friends, scored some cool stuff, earned brownie points as a school-committed parent and was just ... myself, you know?

Home to my sweetie-pies, for lunch and stories and a romp. Then a few happy hours meditatively weeding the lawn (who knew how zen that could be?) and planting up the beginning of my cacti collection (I'm all about cacti at the moment), largely by myself as the girls squealed and splashed on their slippy-slide (mid winter really sucks in Cape Town).

Then as they thawed in the bath (and husband spray-painted in the backyard, it's like that around here), I caught the second golden hour of the day by myself, out paddling - just me and my board and the birds and the setting sun.

I know, I know, no drainage - but how cute?

The perfect Saturday. Largely, even when surrounded by people, by myself.