It's actually wrong how after you spend a week in Knysna, you begin to lose sight of how gorgeous it really is. I ate my lunch on the back porch today, only to realise I'd gone through my sarmie and beer without once looking up at the Heads on this sunny day - it's criminal, really. I'll miss it when I'm gone again.
So far the vac has been a mixed bag. I STILL don't have my results, which has left me fuming. An aquaintance ended his own life. Chased a bus in the rain for 13 kilometres at 4.30am. Went to MonkeyLand where I saw a white-handed Gibbon (oh the irony!) attempt to give a Cappucian Monkey head (wrong on SO many levels). Saw parts of the Eastern Head in Knysna that I'd last seen at age 5. Had the next-year-going-to-UK chat with my ballies.
The next week promises to be boring, but dammit, boring's what I want. Car going in for a service on Monday (Sparky's going to feel like a new car, I'm told). It's my dad's 54th birthday tomorrow - in true Grunewald style we're going to eat until we pop. Re-runs of The Young Ones on BBC Prime all week long. Yup, I'm pretty content right now.
Tune in next week for: 'I'm back in Grahamstown, I took Knysna for granted.'
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