While I'm in Cape Town, I'm renting a room in a flat owned by a friend of a friend and her mother, which kind of reminds me of the setup I had that blissful summer in Brussels when I ended up having two fabulous gay foster dads by accident. I tagged along with Anna for yoga and salsa over the weekend, and she's totally fantastic. Her mother, who's a retired teacher, is this really kind, warm woman who makes homemade jam, knits, bakes, and makes clothes, but also really likes extremely violent Steven Segal films and says "fuck" occasionally. I'm obviously head over heels about this woman.
This morning, I walked downstairs and she looked me up and down and said, "I just made Anna a pair of jeans. When you get tired of those jeans, I will make you a new pair. Okay." and then she went to make toast. Swoon.
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