A Note Found Tucked Inside Granny Jay's Winter Recipe Book

It all began with a cold wind and a jar of cream.

After finally perfecting her winter moisturising cream, Granny Jay was rather pleased with herself.

The cracks on her hands had softened, her heels no longer caught on her stockings, and she could once again go about her daily chores without complaint.

One particularly cold morning, she dabbed a little of the cream onto her lips.

The winter wind had left them dry and chapped, and it seemed a sensible thing to do.

The cream worked wonderfully.

There was only one problem.

It was terribly inconvenient...

By the time she had dipped her finger into the jar, applied the cream and wiped her hands clean, she had already decided there must be a better way.

"I don't need a cream for my lips," she muttered. "I need something that knows it's meant to be a lip balm."

And so the experimenting began once again.

Oom Hendricks arrived one afternoon to find jars, spoons and notebooks spread across the kitchen table.

"What are we making today?" he asked.

"A less troublesome cream," Granny Jay replied.

She adjusted her recipe, adding richer waxes and nourishing butters until the mixture held its shape.

No more dipping fingers into jars.

No more mess.

Just a smooth balm that could be carried in a pocket or handbag and applied whenever the Cape wind decided to misbehave.

The first version was practical.

The second was better.

The third made her laugh.

While looking in the mirror one morning, Granny Jay noticed that winter had left her looking rather pale.

"Goodness," she said. "I look as though I've spent the season hiding in a cupboard."

A tiny pinch of natural colour found its way into the next batch.

Not enough to be obvious. Just enough to bring a little warmth back to her smile.

Oom Hendricks examined the finished balm and declared it a masterpiece.

"You've invented a cosmetic."

"Nonsense," said Granny Jay.

"I've invented common sense."

Years later, whenever the winter wind blows across the Cape, we remember the little jar of cream that started it all.

A remedy for cracked hands became a balm for weather-worn lips.

And thanks to Granny Jay's refusal to look pale all winter, it carried just the faintest hint of colour too.

Sometimes the best ideas begin with a simple thought:

There must be a better way.