The old part of our house - the thatched piece - is very cold. Like many houses in Zimbabwe, it was built to be as cool as possible in the hot season, with little regard for the winter. The dining room receives no sun at all and is like an ice-box to sit in. The lounge is a little warmer, but not much. This morning, we lay a fire in the grate and all work here. It is very cosy.
I finish my proofreading course. I am so glad I have actually finished something! I can actually tick something off my list. I have wanted to do a course like this since I was about 25 so it has only taken me 21 years to get round to doing it.
Everything is looking very grey and dry, but there is a beauty to this season. It always amuses me to see the gardener who works for the house opposite us, out each morning sweeping up the dust. It seems he has a hatred of anything that might look half alive. Our neighbours are like this as well. One day I luckily returned home before the gardener started pulling out each and every bit of grass left on the verge we share with them. I told him specifically where he was allowed to clear up to and so there is a definite line now. On our side is brown grass and leaves and on their side is dust. Our side looks better.
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