December 29

I realise I have not told everyone how the dogs got fed over Christmas.  I never did get in touch with Elizabeth.  Her phone just rang and rang.  Our friends, Paul and Ute, also tried to get hold of her to no avail.  The next day, Paul got another key made for the door (I had given him the number) and, accompanied by another friend of ours, climbed over the wall into our garden.

Elizabeth, who I feared dead, or at least unconscious at the bottom of the back door steps, was found and the house was opened.  She had actually used some of her own mealie meal and cabbage to cook the dogs food.  Yesterday, I tried to ask Elizabeth why she had not answered her phone, but got no real answer from her.

'Elizabeth, I tried phoning you about 30 times.  Is there something wrong with your phone?'

'No.'

'But you didn't answer.'

'Did you send me a message?  I can't read messages.'

'No, I phoned you.'

'Don't send me messages.  I don't like them.'

'But I didn't send you a message, Elizabeth.'

'Next time, you phone me. It's much better.'

In the afternoon, we go and see Paul and Ute to thank them for rescuing the dogs from hunger.  Over a glass of wine, we discuss various New Year options.  New Year is always a funny time.  I don't know how to spend it and, when it's over, I hardly ever feel that I spent it in the way that I wanted to. But I don't know how I wanted to spend it.