Jul's new apron of many colors

Thanks to Rachel for my new kitchen apron, brought all the way from Uganda for Christmas! Now if only I can work up the courage to actually cook and wear it at the same time, since it's so pretty. I don’t want to ruin the front with my food mess! (Well, to be honest, it probably won’t take much in the way of courage. I seem to have no problems whatsoever making a mess in the kitchen).

And thanks to Auntie Jo for the inspiration for marzipan-stuffed bread, which I am in the process of making in this photo. Your instructions worked out great and the bread was very tasty! Unfortunately it was no substitute for being able to share it with you, but nonetheless we reminisced about you and Uncle Chuck while we savored its gooey-ness.

A visit from the locksmith

It was late in the afternoon as we returned home, parked the car, and slowly walked up to our front door, chatting about what we were going to have for supper and blissfully unsuspecting of the impending crisis. I (Jul) opened the gate, and then inserted my keys to unlock the two bolts on the wooden door… I turned the keys…and yanked on the door…and rattled the keys some more… No luck. Neither bolt would budge. The keys turned in the lock but the bolts stayed fast.

“This is ridiculous,” I said, and would say so again at least ten times in the next hour. We banged our heads against the wall, frustrated at only having one entrance to the apartment. We walked around and checked out all the windows, hoping we could somehow get in the flat through an open one. But alas, all the windows have burglar bars on them that can’t be budged (without major tools). Jim put his keys in and yanked on the door some more, but to no avail. It was time for a visit from the locksmith.

Fortunately two of our next-door neighbors (both older-aged widows), Mrs Bell (in No. 2) and Mrs Kuhne (in No.3), were both home and readily offered assistance in the form of advice, a phone and recommended locksmith, brainstorms (though fruitless) on how else to break into the apartment, and finally…an aperitif (glass of sherry) while we waited for the locksmith to arrive.

Once the locksmith, Mohamed, arrived, we all placed bets on how long it would take him to bust down the locks. After ten minutes, we decided to retreat into Mrs Bell’s flat to finish our sherry and get out of the wind (once evening hits, it’s still quite chilly). We swapped stories about Mrs Kuhne’s daughter and Mrs Bell’s grandchildren and crime in South Africa (inspired by the present situation). Jim, feeling masculine and semi-heroic, opted to stay with Mohamed for support and to ensure he thoroughly busted up our door while busting down the locks.
Finally, after 60 minutes of banging and drilling, the door was open and we were in! Mohamed promptly put in two new bolts and issued us new sets of keys (and said he would return tomorrow to patch up the cracks on the door). The excitement was over for the evening, and the doors of No 1, No 2, and No 3 were duly shut and locked, and we all returned to our respective flats for supper. At least we got to know our neighbors a bit better through it all!

Note: the following photos are staged. They only depict real events. And yes, the keys are indeed skeleton keys (one for the gate and one for the door, plus a ‘normal’ key).

Good Bye, Rachel!

Last Thursday we said good-bye to Rachel, and she heads back to Fort Portal, Uganda, to continue her ministry and teaching there. It was a privilege to be together over the Christmas holiday.

Few highlights: exploring some nearby beaches together and jumping into the very cold waves; sharing daily life (going to Wash ‘n Web to do laundry and internet; frequent trips to Pick ‘n Pay for grocery needs); jogging around the neighborhood and Rondebosch Common; eating foods Rachel can’t get in Uganda (like cheese and pizza and wine and fresh farm peaches); hiking up Table Mountain on a blazing hot day; and being weird and laughing – a lot – together.

A few favorite shots...

Before Rachel left we made sure to get MacDonald’s. Yes, the fries taste the same but the ice cream is even better.

Cape of Good Hope

On one of Craig and Rachel’s last days, we drove down to the tip of the Cape Peninsula (about an hour away), to stand on the most south-western point of the continent. The Cape of Good Hope is where the cold Benguela current (Atlantic ocean) and the warm Agulhas current (Indian ocean) meet. Portuguese explorers were the first to come here by ship: Bartholomew Dias arrived in 1488 and named it “Cape of Storms”, and Vasco de Gama rounded it in 1497. (Wow, that's a long time ago.) Along the rocky coastline of the cape there have been 23 known shipwrecks, and remains of several can still be seen. It was later – in the excitement of trade and exploration, perhaps – renamed by the King of Portugal to “Cape of Good Hope”.

The Cape Point Nature Reserve covers a huge area, and one can spend days hiking along the trails and up the many peaks near the cape. It is also a very popular tourist destination! But you do have to watch out for the baboons – they are protected on the nature reserve but can get pretty aggressive demanding food from tourists. One sign said, “Do NOT roll down your windows.” We were amazed to see so many people there, but it was beautiful and impressive nonetheless!





Here you can see the sign that shows we are twice as far from New York (12,000+ km) as we are from the South Pole (6,000+ km)!

Christmas Day, 2007

Our lovely breakfast: cinnamon rolls made with potato dough, curtesy of More-With-Less cookbook, both of which are a Hawkins’ favorites. Of course Craig and Jim loved the rolls, too!!

Our lovely little Christmas tree/plant with gifts from Santa aplenty.

On Christmas afternoon we spent some time tossing the Frisbee in our neighborhood park. Julianna and Rachel were a bit goofy...