I would send you a bouquet of rain if I could

“Mna Ramotswe cleared her throat. ‘I’m hoping there’ll be some more rain soon,’ she said. ‘The cattle will like it.’ In Botswana, that was the most uncontroversial of comments. Nobody would disagree with any sentiment in favour of rain, nor could they express anything but sympathy for cattle. Cattle had no vote, nor words to express a view, but their feelings ranked above just about everything else in the country.”

The House of Unexpected Sisters (No.1 Ladies’ Detective Agency Book 17) by Alexander McCall Smith

I wonder if you’ve ever seen a ghost?

On Sunday Hubby flew to Estonia at 5am. BBC Radio 4 woke me 2hrs later. As Zebedee Soanes burbled about Brexit, I hauled myself out of bed. I padded across the room in the darkness. Suddenly, a movement caught my eye in the large mirror beside me.

I stopped walking. I stopped breathing. I forced my eyes to focus.There, staring back at me was … me. I breathed a sigh of relief. “Tea?” I asked the apparition. “Tea,” she nodded back. I left her and Zebedee to hear what Trump had done next and set about my most important task of the morning.

I like the quiet and dark of a winter morning. My sleepiness lingers sweetly. My thoughts are slow. My dreams haven’t quite left me. My needs are simple.

As I filled my large mug I wondered about water. It comes in many forms here: rain, snow, mist, drizzle, sleet. Buy one, get one free. We’d already had a lot in January 2018. Outside, my terrace furniture cover had become a small pond, albeit frozen.

Perhaps we could send ice to Cape Town, I wondered.

I sent up a quick prayer for Capetonians.

All my cousins are bravely showering in 90 seconds over buckets to catch every drop, designing contraptions to pipe dishwater into the garden, saving soapy suds, flushing only when absolutely necessary, washing clothes by hand, going thirsty, digging boreholes and buying rain water tanks …. in hope that day zero will not come.

My morning began with tea and many more cups followed as freezing sleet and rain fell on our street, on our car and against our windows. Our terrace pond over flowed and refilled several times.

I thought about the dams in the Western Cape.

I would send you a parcel of rain if I could.

SMALL PRINT:

P.s. Tea in England is high tech. We have a filter inside our kettle. Our kettle is glass and lights up when it’s boiling. Morning tea is ALWAYS served (sometimes by Hubby, sometimes by me) in the biggest mugs we possess – a double dose.
P.p.s. Sending ice is not such a strange idea… our company was once approached to give a quote for the towage of an iceberg.
P.p.p.s. How do you wash and condition your hair, soap the necessary and rinse off in just 90 seconds?
P.p.p.p.s. Tell me Capetonians, do you have to limit yourself to just one cup of tea per day?
P.p.p.p.p.s. Failing sending rain all the way from England, I still think that if Cape Town sent 50 large trucks to Morgan Bay with water tanks on board, they could fill them all up in 24 hours and be back in the Cape before dawn with tonnes of water. #desperatesolutions #dayzero