multiblogging

Been meaning to write some blogs.  Wanted to write about my last few hikes, one up and down Table Mountain in record time, for me at least, another one at the said most dangerous hike in Cape Town, between Llandudno and Hout Bay, via the coast.  Wanted to describe the exhilaration of adrenaline-pumping hiking terrain, narrow tunnels, scary cliffs and the joys of rope burns on your delicate palms and wanted to ponder about the effects of the mental exhaustion versus the physical challenge that left me intellectually incapacitated for the better part of a learning curve work week. 

Wanted to take photos and blog about the friggin amazing food that I like to make for myself and how I really like how I make food and how it tastes and how it all makes me excessively satisfied and happy and a little sleepy and that I’m just happy that I like the food that I make and how I make it and that I get to eat it. 

Been wanting to write about the two Olympic trained mozzies that ambushed me a couple of weeks ago while my flatmate was hot-boxed in peaceful sleep fumes and how I managed to find a tube of tabard at the back of my cupboard dating from a 2007 Mozambique trip but only after the team did their duet of strategized synchronised sucking which left my skin looking like it could be mistakenly diagnosed for chickenpox.  This made me think of how I also wanted to blog about my insomnia and how those two tough-as-nails stubborn die-hard mozzies woke me up and how my body clock had adjusted to three-hour-sleep nights.  Or wait a minute, I did blog about the sleeping.  And the lack thereof.  Scratch that. 

Had an idea to blog about the dangers of a blown light bulb and how the one in our bathroom is too high to replace because of the raised ceilings and the lack of a ladder and wanted to tell how I cleverly started using my home group leaders’ camping headlamp to use the bathroom at night but how the cheeky thing snapped me on the nose the one night and how it hurt into oblivion and left a red dot that weirdly never turned blue like a bruise and how all this made me laugh at myself because I had to humbly ask a friend to pray for my face. 

Wanted to blog about my injuries from hiking and jogging and how I must now be an official athlete as I developed shin splint and my one ankle is feeling fuzzy from a nerve that’s at the end of its tether making my whole ankle area feeling the weirdest sensations as if someone’s lightly blowing on it the whole time and how all of this must surely mean that I’m a real athlete now although I don’t think athletics has anything to do with it but that nevertheless it made me feel good and proud and yet upset that I can’t put pressure on my one leg for too long which means no dancing or jogging or heavy hiking for I don’t know how long but then we did pray for it and like my face also trusting for healing in that part of my person.  Was going to elaborate about how all this made me get back into swimming seeing that it’s still a good sport with low impact and how I enjoy overtaking other swimmers at the Virgin in Point but how lately some of these guys are really good and how I think the general calibre of the average swimmer these days between 5:30 and 7:30 is definitely raising the standard and definitely helping or rather challenging me to swim faster and breath smarter and stretch further and hold my breath longer although it is a mighty fine feeling when you end up having won an unspoken unofficial “race” with your neighbour in the second lane. 

Wanted to blog about all these things but simply didn’t have time which is a good thing because activity suggests a life filled with purpose and is also the main reason why I don’t write as much as I would if I had no one to bounce all these thoughts off which in turn made me feel grateful for the friends I have and the people I call family.