Do you dread Monday mornings?…Does retirement alleviate this familiar dread?…Norman is on the mend!…

Norman is improving and is now able to lie down to rest his broken leg. He’s able to put a little weight on it. We feed him a voracious amount of healthy fruit and vegetables to help him recover. He often spends several hours a day with us.

There’s something almost universal about the dread of Monday mornings. No matter what corner of the world we live in, no matter what stage of life we’ve reached, Monday seems to carry with it a shadow that hangs over Sunday evenings like a looming cloud. It doesn’t matter if one works in an office, teaches in a school, or even enjoys the so-called freedom of retirement and even a joyful life of world travel; Mondays have a reputation, and not a good one. They are the gatekeepers of responsibility, the unwelcome reminder that another week must be faced, whether we feel ready for it or not.

For so many people, Monday mornings are synonymous with alarm clocks ringing too soon. That piercing sound is rarely kind, interrupting dreams that seemed sweeter than the reality of another commute, another round of meetings, another set of deadlines. The weekend, with its promise of leisure and choice, is cut short by the inescapable reality that we must show up. Monday never negotiates—it demands, it insists. We can bargain with ourselves, press the snooze button once or twice, but in the end, Monday wins.

Part of the dread comes from contrast. Saturdays and Sundays often carry a lighter rhythm, even if they are filled with errands and chores. There’s a psychological difference in knowing those days belong to us, however briefly. We can choose when to wake up, what to do with our time, and how to order our day. But Monday steals that choice away. Suddenly, the hours are structured around commitments we did not freely design. There is a rigidity to the schedule, a narrowing of freedom. Monday reminds us that our lives are, in many ways, not entirely our own.

Norman loves carrots, apples, pears, and cabbage. His left broken leg’s swelling has gone down about 50% in the past week.

The dread is also tied to anticipation. Human beings have an uncanny ability to live inside their thoughts, and Mondays often trigger the mental checklist of everything waiting for us. Emails left unanswered on Friday afternoon suddenly stare back from our inboxes. Projects that seemed distant last week are suddenly due. Even before our feet hit the floor, our minds are already racing through tasks, obligations, and responsibilities. It’s not just the weight of Monday we carry, but the whole week stretching ahead like a steep climb.

There is also something about Monday that magnifies fatigue. No matter how much rest we get, it rarely feels like enough to reset from the demands of modern life. Many people spend the weekend trying to cram in recovery—sleeping late, socializing, catching up on housework—only to find themselves more tired when Monday arrives. It feels as though we are starting a marathon with legs that haven’t quite healed from the last one. No wonder Monday feels heavier than it should.

But not all of the dread is physical or practical. There’s a psychological layer as well. Mondays remind us of routine, of sameness. The novelty of a new week rarely sparks excitement—it signals repetition. For those in jobs that lack fulfillment or joy, Monday can feel like stepping back onto a treadmill that leads nowhere. Even for those who enjoy their work, Mondays still carry the pressure of performance, of having to prove ourselves again, week after week. That pressure can be exhausting in its own right.

What makes this dread so peculiar is that it affects people who technically have no reason to fear Mondays. Retirees often confess they still feel that twinge of anxiety when Sunday evening rolls around. Old habits linger in the body. After years of waking up early, dressing for work, and showing up on time, the mind can’t fully shake the association. Monday is etched into our cultural rhythm as the day of seriousness, of responsibility, of effort. Even without a boss waiting or a desk piled high, the feeling lingers. It is as though Monday has imprinted itself on our collective psyche.

Yet, when we strip away the reputation Monday carries, it is still just another day. The sun rises the same way. Birds still sing. The world does not change its rhythm because the calendar has turned. What changes is us—our anticipation, our dread, our expectations. We project onto Monday the weight of obligation, and in doing so, we give it power. Perhaps that’s why Fridays are celebrated and Mondays are mourned. We’ve collectively decided to honor one and curse the other.

Of course, not everyone feels this way. There are people who look forward to Monday as a fresh start, a clean slate. They welcome the routine, the structure, the chance to begin again. But they are often the exception. For most, Monday signifies the loss of freedom, the beginning of effort, and the burden of another cycle. The dread, then, is less about the day itself and more about what it represents in the story of our lives.

Maybe the challenge lies in reframing Monday, not as a punishment, but as an opportunity. Easier said than done, of course. But when we see Monday as inevitable suffering, it becomes just that. When we see it as a chance to begin anew, to reset intentions, to step into possibility, it can take on a softer tone. The day itself doesn’t change, but our relationship to it can.

Still, the cultural weight of Monday is hard to shake. For many, the dread will always creep in on Sunday night, a familiar visitor knocking at the door. And maybe that’s not entirely bad. Perhaps it’s a reminder that we crave balance, that we long for more freedom, more rest, more joy in our everyday lives. If nothing else, Monday makes us aware of what we’re missing, and perhaps that awareness can push us to shape our lives in ways that feel lighter, not just on weekends, but every day of the week.

Sure, we’ve lightened the load of dreading Monday morning, considering our fulfilling lives of non-stop world travel, but, even so, on Monday mornings, for a few minutes, that feeling washes over me, after which I shake myself loose and remind myself of this extraordinary life we lead. Grateful. Very grateful.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today,  August 18, 2015:

The drive to Smithfield Regional Park in Carins, Australia, was pleasant. The day started sunny, quickly changing to clouds and sprinkles. For more photos, please click here.

New CDC health warnings…

Poliomyelitis virus vaccine.

From Travel & Leisure online magazine here:

“CDC Warns Travelers About Rising Global Risk in New Health Advisory—What to Know

The agency urges updated vaccinations and enhanced precautions for trips to Europe, Africa, and beyond. By Michael Cappetta, published on August 7, 2025

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) updated its global travel alert for polio, warning Americans against the spread of the disease.

The advisory, which was last updated this week, classifies the polio virus as “Level 2,” encouraging Americans to “practice enhanced precautions” when traveling internationally. Countries with circulating poliovirus include popular destinations like Finland, Germany, Spain, the United Kingdom, and Kenya.

“Before any international travel, make sure you are up to date on your polio vaccines,” the CDC wrote in its advisory. “Before traveling to any destination listed below, adults who previously completed the full, routine polio vaccine series may receive a single, lifetime booster dose of polio vaccine.”

Most people who contract polio don’t feel sick and experience minor symptoms like fever, tiredness, nausea, headache, nasal congestion, a sore throat, a cough, stiffness in their neck and back, and pain in their arms and legs. However, polio could cause more serious symptoms in rare cases, including permanent loss of muscle function, which the CDC said could be “fatal if the muscles used for breathing are paralyzed or if there is an infection of the brain.”

Beyond just getting vaccinated, the CDC recommends travelers practice good hand washing and take precautions to drink non-contaminated water.

In addition to polio, the CDC issued a warning for the chikungunya virus in both China’s Guangdong Province (which was updated last week) and in Bolivia. Mosquitoes spread the virus, and while the most common symptoms are fever and joint pain, the CDC said travelers are “at risk for more severe disease, including newborns infected around the time of birth, older adults (65 years or older), and people with medical conditions such as diabetes or heart disease.” The agency recommended pregnant people avoid traveling to affected areas, especially if they are close to delivering, since the virus can be passed to the baby if the parent becomes infected.

The CDC said travelers heading to these areas should get vaccinated, use insect repellent, wear long-sleeved shirts and pants, and stay in places with air conditioning or with screens on the windows and doors.

The CDC also monitors other global diseases like dengue fever, which is currently classified as “Level 1” concern, along with measlesyellow fever, and more. Currently, the CDC has not issued any “Level 3” or “Level 4″ advisories, which recommend travelers reconsider nonessential travel or avoid all travel to the destination, respectively.”

When we see Doc Theo for prescriptions before we leave South Africa in September, we each will get polio vaccine boosters, which we haven’t had since before we left for our world travels in October 2012.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, August 17, 2015:

The side yard off the kitchen in Trinity Beach, Australia. Many of the huge plants in Australia are used as small houseplants in the US and other countries. For more photos, please click here.

Sleep patterns of wildlife in the bush…

Wildebeests near a water hole in Kruger National Park.

When people visit Kruger National Park, or other African national parks, they often imagine the animals roaming endlessly across the savanna, always on the move, always visible. Yet, much like us, the wild creatures of Kruger have their own rhythms of rest. Sleep in the bush is not about luxury or indulgence. It is about survival, when to let down one’s guard, when to recharge, and when to be hyper-alert. The way animals in Kruger sleep is as varied as their shapes and sizes, each adapted to the demands of predator and prey, day and night.

Lions, for instance…If you’ve ever spent a full day on a game drive, you may have noticed lions doing what they are most famous for: lying around. They can sleep anywhere from 16 to 20 hours a day, sprawled out under a shady knobthorn tree or flopped on a patch of cool sand along a riverbank. For them, conserving energy is essential. Hunting takes tremendous bursts of power, and since they don’t need to forage constantly, they can afford these long naps. Visitors sometimes chuckle at the sight of the “lazy lion,” but there is wisdom in that idleness. Every ounce of strength is stored for the night, when hunting parties set out under the cover of darkness.

In contrast, antelopes such as impala barely dare to rest for long. They snatch short bouts of sleep, often standing up, and rarely for more than a few minutes at a time. Always alert, constantly scanning, they live in a world where slumber could mean becoming a lion’s dinner. Impala may accumulate just a few hours of fragmented rest in 24, relying on the safety of the herd and the advantage of many eyes and ears. There is no luxury of sinking into deep sleep—only a constant balancing act between the need to rest and the need to survive.

Elephant mom and youngster.

Elephants, surprisingly, sleep very little compared to their massive size. They average only about 2 to 4 hours of sleep per day. Most of this happens in the early morning hours, often while standing, though occasionally an elephant will lie down for a deeper stretch of rest. Because they must consume hundreds of pounds of vegetation daily, much of their time is spent walking, browsing, and searching for water. And yet, even in such short windows of rest, elephants are remarkably efficient. Watching a massive bull gently doze, trunk dangling loosely, is a reminder that rest need not be extended to be restorative.

Giraffes take this minimal sleep to another level. Once thought to rarely sleep at all, scientists have discovered they do rest, but usually no more than 30 minutes to 2 hours per day, often in very short intervals. Their awkward height makes lying down risky—they need precious seconds to scramble to their feet if danger approaches. Sometimes, a giraffe will curl its long neck back and rest its head on its body, a sight that seems almost improbable. These fleeting naps are enough to keep them functioning, their survival strategy rooted in vigilance more than comfort.

Zebras share a similar pattern with impalas. They rest standing up, catching light naps throughout the day and night. But when they do lie down for deeper sleep, they rely heavily on the herd. One zebra may doze while another stands guard, an unspoken agreement that safety lies in numbers. It’s humbling to think that such iconic, sturdy animals rarely surrender themselves entirely to rest, their lives a perpetual dance between fatigue and alertness.

Crocodile resting at Sunset Dam.

Predators, in general, can afford longer sleep. Leopards, being solitary and masters of stealth, often rest in the crooks of trees where few can disturb them. They may spend 12 or more hours a day lounging, their spotted coats blending with the dappled light of marula leaves. Hyenas, despite their reputation for chaos, also enjoy a decent amount of rest, though their active social lives and long-distance scavenging keep them more on the move than lions.

And then, there are the smaller creatures of Kruger—bushbabies, mongooses, and genets. These animals often follow nocturnal rhythms, sleeping during the heat of the day and becoming lively when the sun sets. A bushbaby tucked into the hollow of a tree can easily sleep 10 to 12 hours, waiting for the cool evening when insects abound. Sleep, for them, is both a shield against the harsh sun and a preparation for their busy nights.

What ties all these varied sleep habits together is the deep thread of adaptation. In the human world, we often take sleep for granted, imagining it as a nightly necessity and nothing more. But in the wild, sleep is a finely tuned balance between vulnerability and survival. A lion dozing for half the day is no lazier than a giraffe snatching mere minutes. Both are living exactly as evolution has taught them—resting just enough, in just the right way, to keep them alive in a place where danger and beauty coexist so intimately.

As visitors, we sometimes long to see animals in motion, expecting every sighting to be a chase or a dramatic encounter. But in truth, watching them sleep is just as telling. It shows us the quieter side of the bush—the rhythm of nature that pulses beyond the human clock. Sitting in a vehicle, gazing at a pride of lions piled together in the shade, or watching an elephant drift into stillness, we are reminded that rest is not wasted time. It is a strategy, a necessity, and sometimes, a luxury.

Hippos seem to require a lot of rest, often sleeping from 10 to 16 hours a day.

Sleep looks different for each creature, but its purpose is the same: survival. Whether it’s two hours or twenty, light naps or deep slumber, every heartbeat of rest allows the wild to continue its endless story. And perhaps, as travelers, we can take a little wisdom from that, learning to rest in our ways, in our times, without guilt or hurry, simply because it is essential.

Even here in Marloth Park, where predators are few, the instinct of the wildlife is to always be on guard for their safety and sleep no more than that of the animals in the national parks. We often wonder where the animals hide to hunker down at night. However, based on the number of daytime animals we see on the trail cam at night, only mongoose, warthogs, monkeys, baboons, and birds appear to hide away at night to sleep.

Last night, we had another fantastic evening at Jabula, enjoying the ambiance, the food, and the lively banter with Dawn, Leon, Corine, and the multitude of customers that wandered in and out. Tonight, we take our same seats at the bar, which Dawn is saving for us, while the bar fills with sports enthusiasts to watch the South African team, the Springboks, play another exciting game of rugby. They are in first place in the international league.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, August 16, 2015:

In Trinity Beach, Australia, dozens of cockatoos have been swarming the yard over several of the past late afternoons, stopping to check out the pool. For more photos, please click here.

Important visa news for 29 countries..How does this impact us, or does it?…

From Travel & Leisure online magazine here.

“Passport Stamps Are Disappearing Across 29 Countries This Fall—Here’s What Travelers Need to Know

What was once a built-in souvenir is becoming obsolete as new technology takes over. By Opheli Garcia Lawler

Why are lightning rods necessary in Marloth Park?…We’re leaving one month from today…

Some tree branches had to be trimmed to accommodate the longer pole. Chris’s helper was busy cutting the top branches. Shortly after they left, animals came to eat the leaves they hadn’t been able to reach. When Louise let us know that Chris, the lightning rod guy, was going to spend the better part of a day in our garden extending the existing too-short lightning rod on the property, we were curious as to what this was all about. While he and his helper were working outdoors, I talked to him, asking many questions as to why the extension was necessary.

Lightning rods are important in Marloth Park, South Africa, because the area is prone to intense summer thunderstorms, often accompanied by frequent lightning strikes. Here’s why they’re particularly necessary there:

1. High frequency of lightning in the Lowveld
Marloth Park sits in the Mpumalanga Lowveld, which is one of South Africa’s high-risk lightning zones. Warm, humid summer air colliding with cooler fronts creates powerful thunderstorms, especially between November and March. The combination of open savannah and scattered tall structures (like roofs, trees, and water towers) makes buildings vulnerable to direct strikes.

The lightning rod was lying in the garden while Chris and his worker extended it.

2. Thatched roofs are standard – and flammable
Many homes in Marloth Park have thatched roofs, which, while beautiful and fitting for the bush aesthetic, are highly flammable. A single lightning strike can ignite a thatch roof almost instantly, and because Marloth Park has no municipal fire brigade in town, response times can be slow, increasing the risk of losing the entire structure.

3. Isolated buildings and tall trees attract strikes
Houses in Marloth Park are often surrounded by open bushveld with few other tall structures nearby. This makes them natural lightning targets, especially if they have tall thatch peaks, metal chimney caps, or nearby large trees.

4. Wildlife and human safety
Lightning can also pose a risk to people and even large animals. A strike on a building or fence could cause injury or death to anyone nearby, including residents, visitors, or animals seeking shelter under a roof or tree during a storm.

5. Insurance requirements
Many South African insurers require lightning protection on thatched-roof properties in high-risk areas like Marloth Park. Without it, claims for fire damage caused by lightning might be denied.

In short, Lightning rods in Marloth Park aren’t just a precaution — they’re a necessity because of the high lightning strike rate, flammable roofing materials, isolated structures, and limited firefighting resources. They act as a safe path for lightning to travel into the ground, protecting both property and lives.

We’d never given lightning rods a thought while here in Marloth Park. However, after a discussion with Chris, he clarified why they are necessary in Marloth Park, as well as in many locations throughout South Africa and other countries.

We’ve decided to dine in tonight after many evenings spent out with friends and activities. It’s a beautiful day to cook on the braai and dine outdoors while our wildlife friends stop by.

As always, the time here has flown by, and one month from today, we head for Spain.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, August 14, 2015:

Nothing is more exciting for us than spotting wildlife in its natural habitat, as was the case here when we spotted this pelican. For more photos, please click here.

It wasn’t a bad experience at all…

(This is the wrong address for us but no need to change it since we don’t get a bill sent to us.) The total bill for yesterday’s tooth repair, x-rays, and cleaning came to ZAR 1557.30, US $88.79.

Tom just threw a ripe banana to the male bushbuck, Chewy, and the mongoose came running and grabbed it. As carnivores, we didn’t expect them to eat it, but the lucky thief is devouring it. The bush is dry, and even the carnivores are varying from their usual diets.

Moving right along, my anxiety about visiting the dentist has been completely obliterated. Sadly, the dentist I expected to see wasn’t there. She has cancer and is off for many months for treatment. We wish her well.

Instead, the lovely dentist, Dr. Jones, from a village near Johannesburg, has been working in her place while she’s away, and I love her. She gave me the best cleaning I’ve ever had and repaired one of my two broken teeth. Next Wednesday, I have an appointment for her to do the crown prep on the bigger broken tooth.

After that, I will return with Tom in early September to have the crown “seated,” when he gets his teeth cleaned. Most likely, we won’t see a dentist again until next March, six months later, while we’re still in Tasmania.

Today, I’ve attached a copy of the bill for yesterday’s 90-minute appointment, including the cleaning, X-rays, and the repair of the one broken tooth. This appointment could easily have cost eight to ten times more in the US. The upcoming cost of the crown will be under ZAR 4000, US $228, again, eight to ten less than in the US.

These dental prices in South Africa are even less than those in Mexico, where many seniors travel for dental care, especially those living in bordering states. That wouldn’t ever be convenient or likely for us to do when visiting the US.

Back at the house by 1:00 pm, Tom took his daily short nap while I relaxed and did a little reading. By 4:30, we were out the door and on our way to Giraffe Pub and Grill for dinner and Quiz Night.

With our teammate Daphne as Quiz Master, and her husband Neville having to work as manager of Giraffe, and Marlize still in Durban, once again, there were only the two of us. We tried our best, but struggled when we lacked a South African to answer questions that only South Africans would know.

Also, since both Tom and I had children at young ages, 17 and 19, respectively, we missed out on a lot of experience with pop culture, including that from music and movies. Speaking of our old lives, today, if still married to my first husband, the father of my two sons, I’d have been married for 60 years.

Also, on today’s date, August 13, it was 55 years ago that Tom began working on the railroad. Every year on August 13, we wish each other, “Happy Anniversary,” (tongue in cheek). Gosh, we’re grateful for this life, and no, we still don’t pay attention to current movies, music, and pop culture. We’re more wrapped up in the world around us.

Time to wrap this up. We’re heading to Komatipoort tomorrow for another appointment and will share details in tomorrow’s post.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, August 13, 2015:

As we made our way through a portion of the triple canopy rainforest, we encountered two lakes, a creek, and a river in Cairns, Australia. This is the saltwater lake. Tomorrow, we’ll be posting photos of the freshwater lake, the river, and the creek, which includes a wildlife surprise. For more photos, please click here.

Had to change dentists due to scheduling issues…

Mongooses never fail to stop by at least once a day, often twice.

Two weeks ago, during dinner at Giraffe on Quiz Night, half of a tooth (a molar) fell out of my mouth while eating a grilled chicken salad. I had no idea this tooth had a problem.

Last week, while shopping at the Bush Centre in Marloth Park, a chip fell off another tooth on the opposite side. Good grief! I’ve had nightmares of my teeth falling out. Is this a sign of things to come, or am I just being paranoid? I thought my teeth were in good condition.

The next day, after the first tooth broke, I called Dr. Singh’s office in Malalane to schedule an appointment. However, they had no openings until the end of August, and if it took a few weeks to have a crown made, it would be too close to our departure time on September 14.

I had no choice but to book an appointment with another dentist in Malalane, as there were no dentists left in Komatipoort after Luzanne left a few years ago when her husband got a job in Chicago, Illinois.

Our resident wildebeest, Hal, is walking away after eating some treats.

Thus, I booked an appointment with Dr. Nel (recommended by our friends Roz and Les), with whom I have an appointment at 10:30 this morning, and we’re leaving here in less than an hour. Today’s post will be rushed to get it done before we leave.

Of course, with a bit of dental phobia, I am a little anxious about having any dental work done. Who enjoys going to a dentist, regardless of the reason? Certainly, no one I know.

Dental phobia is an intense, often overwhelming fear of visiting the dentist or undergoing dental procedures. It goes beyond mild anxiety—people with dental phobia may experience panic attacks, severe distress, or even physical symptoms like sweating, rapid heartbeat, or feeling faint at just the thought of a dental appointment.

Giraffes stop by almost every day.

It can stem from various causes, such as:

  • Past negative experiences — painful treatments or insensitive care in childhood or adulthood.

  • Fear of pain — often heightened if someone has a low pain threshold or outdated beliefs about dental procedures.

  • Loss of control — lying back in the chair, unable to talk, and relying on someone else’s hands in your mouth can feel very vulnerable.

  • Embarrassment — concerns about the appearance or smell of one’s teeth, or about being judged.

  • Sensory triggers — the sound of the drill, the smell of antiseptic, or the bright lights can all provoke fear.

For many, this phobia can lead to avoiding the dentist altogether, sometimes for years, which can worsen oral health and, ironically, increase the likelihood of needing more complex treatment later.

Treatment approaches include gentle, empathetic dentists who specialize in anxious patients, gradual exposure therapy, sedation dentistry, relaxation techniques, and sometimes psychological counseling to address the root fears.

I suppose my fear stems from “Past negative experiences,” of which I’ve had many over the years, although throughout my life, I have been diligent about treating any issues and getting frequent cleanings.

Oh well, here it goes again. I will report back tomorrow with details.

Have a great day!

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, August 12, 2015

Note the wide beak on this beautiful duck. For more photos, please click here.

An exciting astronomical event this week!…Video of Norman limping across the garden…

From Travel & Leisure’s online magazine here:

“One of the Most Celebrated Astronomical Events of 2025 Is Peaking This Week With Fiery Streaks and Bright Fireballs—What to Know

Stargazers can expect dozens of meteors per hour—plus the chance to spot Mercury and more in August skies. By Katie Nadworny

Published on August 10, 2025

Photo from ten years ago today, August 11, 2015:

It seems we wake up every morning at 5 am. Tom gets up and I read in bed until I fall back asleep, usually until 7 am. Up so early, he has an opportunity to capture these amazing sunrises. For more photos, please click here.

Busy morning in the bush on a warm, sunny day…”Our boy” stopped by after a week’s absense…

Our boy Norman stopped by this morning. He seems to be walking better, putting some weight on his broken leg. His leg is still very swollen.

This morning, I popped out of bed at 8:00 am, determined to get this upcoming easy day in motion. With a predicted warm day, we decided to make a big chicken salad, accompanied by a green side salad, perfect for tonight’s dinner in the warm weather. Tom, up and about long before me, boiled eggs for the chicken salad, and as soon as I was showered and dressed, I lined two baking pans with tin foil and set the four one-pound (.5 kg) packages of chicken breasts in the two pans, seasoning them well and put them into the preheated oven to cook for 35 minutes.

While I was chopping and dicing vegetables for the chicken salad and side salad, I heard the hysterical cackle of the mongooses who appear every morning for breakfast. They are still in our garden several hours later, lying atop one another, cuddled up for a nap in the shade, making their usual funny little sounds when they are relaxed. It’s delightful.

Four resting waterbucks as seen on the bank of the Sabie River.

Back to the chopping and dicing, I heard Tom yell out, “Hi, Norman, good to see you,” and I came running, leaving my kitchen tasks behind to see “my boy.”

We each entertained him while the other chopped carrots, apples, and pears for Norman, hoping that nourishing him would help him recover his still swollen, broken left leg. Deidre, the Wild and Free rescue manager and expert, asked people in Marloth Park to send her videos of him walking to show how he’s doing, which she’ll share with the two vets overseeing his progress.

An elephant on the dry river bed as seen from Ngwenya.

Tom took an excellent video of him walking across an open area in the garden, clearly illustrating that he’s definitely on the mend. Yes, he’s still limping but appears to be putting some weight on it, although it is still very swollen. Hopefully, before we leave here in a little over a month, we’ll be able to go with peace of mind, knowing he will survive this awful injury.

Moments later, a giraffe strolled across the garden, and again, I rushed outdoors to take a photo—such a busy morning. We didn’t expect many animals today, given that holidaymakers are here for the weekend due to yesterday’s Women’s Day. It seems international visitors also come to Marloth Park for South African holidays, not only citizens of this country.

A grey heron, spotted at Sunset Dam in Kruger National Park.

Back in the kitchen after Norman left, I cut up half of the cooked chicken for tonight’s dinner and froze the rest for another recipe, on another day. Finally, I finished the salads and was able to sit down and begin today’s post. By then, it was already after 11:00, and I prefer to be done with the post by noon or 1:00 pm to go on with the remainder of my day.

Although we don’t have big plans today, we have a busy week ahead, dining out every night except Monday and next Sunday, mostly with friends and events.

A hippo resting  wasin Kruger.

Tuesday, we’re heading to the dentist in Malalane since I broke a molar in half, along with a chip on another tooth, both of which happened in the past two weeks. Weird. I dread getting these repaired, but I have no choice. It’s one of those “must-dos”.

Tom just finished streaming the Minnesota Vikings’ first preseason game. He’s thrilled to be watching American (NFL) football again, and when I can, I join him.

Yesterday afternoon, our old friends Les and Jerry stopped by for a visit. We hadn’t seen them in three years. It was wonderful to catch up with them both before they head to various camps in Kruger National Park.

That’s it for today, dear readers. Thank you for your ongoing support and interest in the simplicities of our daily lives in the bush.

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, August 10, 2015:

This appears to be a wallaby, not a kangaroo. For more photos, please click here.

Happy Women’s Day to South African women…What is this special holiday all about?…

Happy Women’s Day to all South African women!

Every year, on the 9th of August, South Africa pauses in the heart of winter to celebrate Women’s Day—a day that is more than just a public holiday. It’s a date heavy with meaning, one born from courage, unity, and the unshakable will of women who refused to stand quietly in the face of injustice. While the day is now marked with speeches, cultural events, and flowers, its roots lie in an act of collective bravery that changed the course of the country’s history.

Back in 1956, over 20,000 women from all walks of life—Black, White, Indian, and Coloured—gathered in Pretoria to protest against apartheid’s notorious pass laws. These laws required non-White South Africans to carry “pass books” that restricted their movement and controlled where they could live, work, and travel. On that day, the women walked to the Union Buildings, the seat of government, and stood in silent protest for 30 minutes after delivering petitions with over 100,000 signatures.

One can imagine the tension in the air: the heavy winter sky above them, the Union Buildings looming in the background, the rhythmic sound of footsteps as women arrived from every corner of the country. And then came the song—“Wathint’ Abafazi, Wathint’ Imbokodo” (“You strike a woman, you strike a rock”). That phrase has since become a rallying cry, not just for women’s rights in South Africa, but for resilience in the face of any oppression.

Today, Women’s Day honors the courage of women while also shining a light on the ongoing struggles women face, from gender-based violence to economic inequality. It’s a reminder that while there has been progress since that fateful day in 1956, the work is far from over.

For someone living or traveling in South Africa, Women’s Day has a different kind of rhythm compared to other national holidays. It’s not just about leisure—it’s about reflection. There’s a noticeable sense of pride in the air, a respect for the generations before, and an awareness of the challenges still ahead. Television and radio programs feature stories of trailblazing women—politicians, scientists, artists, activists—whose contributions have shaped the nation. Schools host assemblies where children read poems or perform plays that keep the memory of the 1956 march alive.

In cities, community halls are fill with events celebrating women’s achievements. These gatherings might feature music, dance, and fashion—South Africa’s cultural diversity proudly on display. In smaller towns and villages, the day can be more intimate: neighbors sharing a pot of tea, local leaders giving speeches, and church groups hosting meals for women in need. Many businesses run charity drives for women’s shelters, and some employers use the day to talk about workplace equality.

For visitors, it’s a good day to learn, to listen, and to engage. It’s easy to be moved by the warmth of the celebrations, but even more powerful is hearing first-hand stories from women about their journeys—the barriers they’ve faced, the victories they’ve celebrated, and the dreams they still hold.

Of course, as with all public holidays in South Africa, there’s also the everyday joy of gathering with family and friends. Braais are lit, music spills out of backyards, and children play in the winter sunshine. But the conversation often circles back to the reason for the day: to honor the resilience and strength of South African women, past and present.

What’s striking about Women’s Day here is how it connects the past with the present. The women who marched in 1956 didn’t have smartphones or social media, yet they managed to organize one of the largest demonstrations in the country’s history. They did it with determination, word-of-mouth, and handwritten letters passed from one community to another. Their cause was urgent and dangerous, yet their unity was unshakable.

Today, their legacy serves as a touchstone for activists and everyday citizens alike. In conversations with South African friends over the years, I’ve noticed how often people speak of “the 1956 march” as if it happened just yesterday. That memory is alive, not locked away in history books. It’s in the songs sung at rallies, in the murals painted on community walls, and in the stories mothers tell their daughters about what it means to be strong.

But Women’s Day is not without its reminders of how far there is to go. South Africa continues to grapple with one of the highest rates of gender-based violence in the world. Economic inequality often falls hardest on women, especially in rural areas where opportunities are scarce. On this day, activists use the spotlight to call for stronger laws, better protections, and a society where safety and dignity are not privileges, but rights.

Still, there is hope—palpable hope. It’s in the growing number of women leading businesses, universities, and government offices. It’s in the grassroots movements run by young women who are refusing to accept the status quo. It’s in the determination of every person, male or female, who joins the cause of gender equality.

As the day winds down, something is moving about the thought that on this same date, decades ago, thousands of women stood shoulder to shoulder in silent defiance, knowing full well the risks they faced. Today, their courage is echoed in every act of kindness, every fight for justice, every celebration of women’s achievements.

Women’s Day in South Africa isn’t just a holiday—it’s a living story. It’s the sound of voices rising in song, the warmth of shared meals, and the quiet strength of a country still striving to match its ideals with its realities. It’s a day that says, without hesitation, that women are the backbone of society, the rock on which communities are built. And perhaps most importantly, it’s a reminder that when women rise, the whole nation rises with them.

Happy Women’s Day to all South African women on this special day!

Be well.

Photo from ten years ago today, August 9, 2015:

A safe walkway into the rainforest in Clifton Beach, Australia. For more photos, please click here.