Puppy love

This is Maya the bee

Lucy belle

and Nonni the delighful.

The best darn dogs in the whole world.
Well at least...
the best darn dogs in Melville.
Here's a little movie montage of my four legged children.

This is my Village.

Welcome to Melville.
A village of cracked pavements, street art and boho happiness.

A village of teeny tiny book shops, A lucky packet array of people from all walks of life.
I grew up here. Under tables playing with my toys whilst my parents debated the volatility of our then burning country(it was the mid 80's and Melville was an army of consciousness)
Our village has often been slandered.
"Its too quirky"
Its "Hell-ville"
Its the "SPCA" for loners and artists.
Whatever your opinion on us is, you still come here to grab a petite four from de la Creme.
You still come to Xai Xai for pizza special and Caparinia's.
You still secretly love the vibe, the fire the magic.

As you have guessed by now im a little in love with this suburb, I love the way i can walk down its cobbled streets, know at least 10 people within 10 meters of eachother, listen to the gossip half heartedly, greet the local dog Pita who runs around chasing birds..And feel like i have a place i truly belong in.
You can keep your white bread suburbs, with your ADT guards at every corner, your shopping wedges filled with Woolworths and and and and and and.
We have vibe here. We have soul.. and yeah, we are a bit like a pavement special, but at the end of the day, thats what you learn to love about us, our 'dont mess with us, we can kill you with the beauty of our art' mentality.
I urge all you sceptics out there, take a leap of faith, come visit us, come for Busker Saturday at Love and revolution, poker night at Wish, Book readings at Die Boekehuis..
You may leave with a sparkle in your eye..a spring in your step.

Here i am stuck in the middle with you.

Catching a true 'in the moment' moment between friends is like catching a butterfly, beautiful rare and oh so nice and hand clap worthy.
Im blessed with a group of severely magical people that put that extra bounce to my step.
We have supper clubs, movie nights, phone calls to say 'hey, i miss you' hand me downs, coffee buying, tears, laughter, laughter and tears..and all that slow motion movie happiness.
Here are some of my very favourite moments of some of my very favourite people.

Net n Ou pampoen en n stukkende skoen...

Yesterday at a show house(that wasnt very showy at all)
I saw these shoes sitting on the ledge in the garden.
Recycled shoes..a potplant of sorts, housing basil and coriander.
If the idea that the herbs in your salad are grown in an old shoe doesnt gross you out,
then perhaps its time to dig out your circa 1997 pair of cross trainers and start a whole new veggie patch. a-la takkie patch.

cherry pies.

There is nothing like a cherry pie.
Pink and fleshy, piping hot, sitting happily cooling on a window sill.
I have to great loves when it comes to food.
Home made pasta... and the one, the only, Mrs Julia Child.

When life throws you lemons, which is has been doing in my case lately, i stuff those lemons in a chicken, slap on some olive oil, and have a date night with myself, my dogs and a bottle of Rupert and Rothchild.
Food is so much more than it appears. Food is around when life happens.
Food tends to listen in, gossip along with us quietly and without judgement.
If im having a tear my hair out day, theres nothing more delicious than a bowl of fresh rasberry coulis and ice cream.
When im in love, i like to eat a mango in the bath bare hands and with passion.
In times of sadness, warm home made bread covered in dripping butter.
When im unsure, A simple bowl of tagliatelli, coriander and a hint of chilli.
Growing up around food and the healing qualitites it possesses has seen me scour the quainter jozi suburbs for hard to find winners... like the fresh bokchoi and oyster mushrooms in cyrildene sold in old checkers bags, Super Sconto,the Italian supermarket in Orange grove where frozen rabbit and fresh basil seem to speak pure Italian.
The ancient and tatty cheese shop in Mayfair for Cumin goats milk cheese.
Food is my friend. My oldest friend come to think of it.. and as i sit at my local coffee shop, eating a simple but honest toasted sandwich, being kept company by its melted cheese and baby tomato happiness, i realise this is what life is about.. its about finding a handful of people to sit around your table and eat with you, in sickness and health. Bon Apetite!

Who needs New York. We have joburg.

Cara's bakery for the broken hearted.

Not everyone finds someone to have their happy ending with.
I was always one of those prince charming and sparkly red shoes that teach you there's no place like home when there's someone to come home to, kind of gal..
So when you are left with a half empty closet, an engagement ring that will never be worn again, books with someone else's name on it, a suddenly very big bed, a dog who looks at you saying 'but wheres my dad gone?' and a dreaded sense of 'im alone again..'there is absolutely not enough ice cream in the world to heal that kind of pain.
Sitting on the ledge of the bath at 2 am this morning, smoking my hundredth cigarette and hating the deafening loudness of the quiet of my little home i realised a very big thing.
Jumping off the cliff to find happiness never means landing on your feet. You are going to hit the rocks, and bruise the shit out of your heart.But even though the silver lining is no where in sight and the world is a grey little place of movies for one, single and mingles and being seated at the 'kids' table at your cousin's wedding... there is hope. I believe in hope with all my bruised little broken heart. And that was enough for me to peel myself up off the bathroom floor, put the ice cream away, lie diagonally across the bed and let the new found idea of hope tuck me into bed.