...my gran is so cute.
Firstly, she has knitted about 78 teddy bears for children who have been abused. And continues to knit away commenting to herself, "Should this one's eyes be blue or black?" She's knitting bears for seriously unfortunate little souls, and with such care and precision.
Secondly, I showed her my laptop. She wanted to know how I play Sudoku "in my computer." When she started screaming, "Peas! Peas!! There's a fly in your computer!"
(Where, behind the screen?) "No, I saw it, it was over there (points to screen), and it's moved - there's a bug trapped inside your computer, how did it get there?"
Fiddle around a bit more. "There it is again! I thought I was going mad, but bordell there it is!"
The cursor. The cursor, Grandmere. God she's adorable. We had long conversations about the therapeutic side to knitting. I've found 45 different coloured balls of wool which I plan to manifest into this multi-coloured fokken ding...and will start knitting on the journey home this evening.
Leaving Cape Town tonight. I'm a little...put out. Because I am really enjoying myself and I fear the moment I spot the Hillbrow Tower, this sense of enjoyment will hastily cease. I've been walking everywhere, getting healthy levels of oxytocin secreting from my hypothalamus, enjoying the sunshine, watching squirrels, conversing with a coloured woman who was just somma sitting in a trolley on our street, and wondering why the fuck Cecil John Rhodes is such a fucking saviour in our history when, as a friend put it: He's really just an olden day Brett Kebble. I mean, the man is everywhere. Statues, memorials, roads, a university. So terribly boring and ostentatious of the man.
And so the trip home. I can hardly wait.