The rainy season has been threatening us in the most aggressive way the past few nights—thunder, lightning and howling winds. The junk trees in the vacant lot next door move with the litheness of agitated dancers. Weather here in Johannesburg is never dainty but echoes the city—violent, aggressive, angry. Despite all the flash and drama, only a few drops of rain have fallen. The city is dry and dusty. Our potted plants devour water daily.
Meanwhile, Glen and I are settling in to our new place in Hyde Park. The last boxes are disappearing, art is going up on the walls and order ensues. Everything is clean and white—the walls, the cupboards, and the doors. As someone who prides herself on having a place full of colour, the cleanness and neutrality is satisfying. We add colour and life in other ways. Each day we comment about something we hadn't noticed previously that we like about thisplace. What is most satisfying is that everything works, the roof doesn’t leak and all the toilets flush! We are easy to please. Each day, it feels more like home.
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