It is John's birthday on Friday so we are frantically trying to find him a birthday present. This is difficult at the best of times; nigh impossible now.
In the afternoon, Sian, Ellie and I go into town. We have arranged to meet a certain lady outside a certain shopping centre to buy a bottle of whisky. She phones me when we are there and says she is just driving in. I see her, cross the car park and exchange money for a bottle of Famous Grouse. Feeling like a drug dealer, I return to the car.
The next stop is a house in Suburbs to buy a bottle of wine. It is far cheaper than that being sold in the shops. I have not drunk wine for a few months so this bottle, which is probably dead cheap in South Africa, is like some rare limited edition. I almost fasten it down with the seat belt.
After dropping the girls at the stables, I go to drop my trousers off at the tailor. They have been going round in the back of the car for about two weeks, but this is not unusual for me. I will find something that needs mending and it will stay on the chair in the bedroom for a couple of weeks. Then one day it will make it to the car and then finally to the tailor. Picking it up is equally long and drawn out as I usually forget that I need to fetch it until the tailor phones and asks if they can sell it to defray expenses.
At a hardware shop, I end up having a long chat to the owner and another customer about ridgebacks and what to feed them. Rolo is in a constant state of hunger and we just can't keep up with the amount of food he seems to need. The customer suggests that the owner phones his daughter in Australia who is a vet and asks her advice. He promises he will and will phone me tomorrow. This is the lovely thing about Bulawayo: people you don't now at all can be very kind and put themselves out for you.
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