Carrot cake

It's cold; although normally quickly over the second 'half' of winter is harsher than the first.
But on a happy note, the jasmine bush in the far western corner of the garden always flowers early in August; it's pungent scent has been my first sign of spring since a child.
I'm still In bed having my quiet time; I'm about to write my morning pages (as inspired by Julia Cameron in The Artists Way about a decade ago), and trying to sip on a bowl of steaming mint and green tea.
My old, faded-pink single electric blanket is on 2, while the sun is in my face and backlighting Mika.
This morning the sun appeared over the trees at the far edge of the park across from my home at exactly 7h12; yip the nights are getting shorter.
Frost, like icing on a carrot cake, is lying thick and white on the yellow, dead lawn.
As I stare at this scene while scratching my stubble, contentment seeps through my being...and it's Friday.

Road trip with mom

My mother's been visiting for a week now, probably - ironically - one of the most chaotic I've had in a while. At short notice this afternoon we decided to pack one bag between us and to hit the road. Malaga Hotel, 20km from Waterval Boven into the Lowveld and eastwards along the N4, is our first stop for lunch. Tonight we'll be sleeping in the Berlin Forest 10km outside Kaapsehoop village. Our aim is to gulp in fresh mountain air and to enjoy, unhindered, the Milky Way.

It's a magnificent spring day and I've picked a sprig of Jasmine. I'm glad this harsh winter is almost behind us.

Shantaram

"Above all else, Bombay was free - exhiliratingly free. I saw the liberated, unconstrained spirit wherever I looked, and I found myself responding to it with the whole of my heart. Even the flare of shame I'd felt when I first saw the slums and the street beggars dissolved in the understanding that they were free, those men and women. No-one drove the beggars from the streets. No-one banished the slum-dwellers, painful as their lives were, they were free to live them in the same gardens and avenues as the rich and powerful. They were free. The city was free. I loved it."

Anne-Marie my apologies for taking so long to reply to your message of a few weeks ago, but which I so appreciated. I've been so busy these last few weeks that to even think of blogging (the few times I have, has been directly from my Nokia E90, which no direct interaction with the blog site itself) has been a luxury. Even this minute I'm blogging in the bath, my most favourite personal space of all.

Neverthless as soon as I got to Jozi on Friday afternoon I was, upon your reccomendation, straight into Exclusive Books to get myself a copy of Shantaram...and I've not put it down since. So thank you! And thank you for taking the time to read Beautiful Mind, also to comment. Please tell me more about you, and where you live.

For the record it's the third magnificent day in a row in Johannesburg. As usual, but after the coldest winter in my living memory (there was even frost all the way down to Ngodwana in the Lowveld), spring has come early. And I thank God. Last year the Jasmine - always the very first flowers to blossom after bleak, scentless winters - flowered on 7 July. This year I saw the very first blossoms last Wednesday, the 5th of August.