…that you’re supposed to be doing a blog post each day.
It’s late and you’ve been busy, I get it.
That gas hob wasn’t going to buy and install itself. United weren’t going to win at Portsmouth without your support, and yes, that was an absolutely superb braai.
The steak was especially good.
But don’t forget that you still need to sort a blog post before bed.
Ok?
Valentine’s Day tomorrow. Commercialism gone mad, preying on the young lovers of the world, or the Feast Day of St Valentine who lived in the 3rd Century.
How about both?
Busy guy, too. Aside from his caring for the poor and weak during his brief time on the planet, he’s also got himself a number of sponsorship deals Patronages. in the afterlife. He does Terni – a somewhat nondescript city in Southern Umbria in Italy. And he does Lesvos – the Greek island famed for featuring a diverse, mountainous landscape with olive groves, medieval castles, and a rich, traditional culture, and offering a quieter, non-commercialized alternative to popular Greek destinations.
His other gigs? Well, happy marriages and affianced couples, obviously.
And then… Epilepsy, Beekeepers, Plague and “against fainting”.
I never knew that you could have a Patron Saint “against” a bad thing. And if you can – and you clearly can, because he is – then why not add (in this case, at least) “against” Epilepsy and “against” Plague to the list? Because this dichotomy does make it look like he’s actively supporting those two afflictions.
And while we’re at the whole “religion is a bit weird” thing, how is St Valentine depicted? What are his Attributes? As in – when you see an image of him, how can you identify that it’s him and not some other random 3rd Century clergyman/martyr?
The list starts off fairly routinely: Birds. Roses. A priest giving sight to a blind girl.
We move on to more specific things: A bishop with a crippled person or a child with epilepsy at his feet
Some modern day social media stuff: A priest holding a sun.
And then (perhaps somewhat predictably), it goes a bit nuts:
A bishop with a rooster nearby.
What sort of radius are we looking at here. Is it a small rooster, or is it far away?
A bishop refusing to adore an idol.
How do you even begin to depict that?
Is looking away really the same as “refusing to adore”?
Or does the audience have to do a lot of hard work connecting the dots?
A bishop being beheaded.
A priest bearing a sword.
I feel that we need to know if these two are connected. Is this some sort of Christian coup?
And if it is related to his actual martyrdom, well, they’ve missed a bit:
Valentine was arrested and dragged before the prefect of Rome, who condemned him to be beaten to death with clubs and to have his head cut off. The sentence was carried out on February 14, on or about the year 270.
Yeah. Probably not something you want to see at your local art gallery.
…I’m not particularly looking forward to this coming Monday.
With apologies to the Boomtown Rats.
One of the best bits about this blog (ok, ok: possibly the only good bit if you want to be like that) is the fact that I don’t have to stick to any one given topic. This isn’t a blog about music or football or politics. It’s a blog about whatever takes my fancy that particular day.
But I have been talking quite a lot about the weather recently.
That’s completely reasonable though, because the Cape Town weather has been bloody weird over the last few months. And after a week of horrific humidity, gloomy skies and even *gasp* occasional rain, next Monday looks… well…
…”warm”.
Ironically, this isn’t actually very unusual for February. We will have a few days each year here that get up towards 40oC and are generally rather uncomfortable. More surprising is the fact that this will be the first one of the year.
That said, even if we’re used to it, it would probably be wise to take things a bit easy that day and to drink plenty of water. Also, find and hug an air conditioner.
I’m full of great advice.
Great news for anyone wanting to travel between the Estonian islands of Hiiumaa and Saaremaa, but who hasn’t been able to get a ferry because of all the sea ice in the… er… sea.
The authorities have opened a 17km ice road between the islands – specifically between Tärkma on Hiiumaa and Triigi on Saaremaa – over the frozen sea.
This is pretty cool (no pun intended), as it’s an official ice road, sanctioned by the government and maintained by a private contractor. You can even check on the current status of the ice road on this website.
The really good news about this official ice road is that it’s safe, simply because it’s sanctioned and maintained. But Estonians are a wild bunch, and so authorities have had to warn against individuals using several unofficial ice roads (no sanction, no maintenance; no Pirlo, no party).
That does come with some risks:
“The concern is really about this uncontrolled situation. The risk is high. Right now, one might think the danger is not great since the weather is so cold. Because right now the road is unclear and not everyone knows exactly where to go. You definitely have to monitor the road. There is just one spot where there’s a crack with water, but otherwise it’s totally passable.”
Oh, just the one spot where the freezing, dark, salty water of doom is creeping through?
That’s perfectly ok then.
The list of rules for the official ice road is long, involving weight limits, visibility constraints, distance between vehicles and banning overtaking. Also:
Seat belts must be unfastened, and vehicle doors should remain easily openable.
But why? Oh, wait.
Oh.
Right.
But it’s not like they haven’t thought this stuff through. How about this for a directive:
The recommended speed is up to 25 km/h or between 40–70 km/h (speeds between 25–40 km/h may generate a resonance wave that could damage the ice).
I wonder how they found that out?
I think that it’s unlikely that ice roads will ever be a thing here in SA. Mainly because of the weather, but then where would we go to anyway? Robben Island? That’s really about it for local offshore land around here. But it’s probably just as well, given our dodgy driving reputation.
Honestly though, this Estonian version sounds like something that you should experience at least once in your life. Or just do an unofficial one and make it the last thing you do in your life.
Forgive me. Bit of a moan incoming.
When April comes around this year, it’ll mean that for 20 of the last 24 months, we’ll have had building work happening on our doorstep. Not literally our doorstep, obviously. Our actual doorstep is perfectly functional, but rather small and ordinary. 20 months of building work on that would be both excessive and completely unnecessary.
But much of life over the last two years Chez 6000 has been accompanied by the sound of drilling, banging and angle grinding from the house next door and the house just across the road.
And I’m actually done with it now.
Just tired of it. Weary. Fed up. All the appropriate synonyms.
I know that building work has to be done sometimes, and I know that it is often, by nature, rather noisy. I’ve just had enough of it constantly being noisy around me.
And let’s not just leave it at the noise, because while that is very, very irritating, it’s far from the only issue which local building work brings with it. Driving is near impossible, the road is a veritable vehicular assault course of poorly parked bakkies. The tea breaks and lunchtimes spent on the grass verges generate a highly annoying amount of litter. Annoying because it’s sheer laziness, given that the builders have to walk right past a bin on the driveway on their way back into work.
And then there’s the petty crime. What used to be a very safe neighbourhood just isn’t at the moment. You need to double check all your gates, doors and windows. Repeatedly.
Anything metal will disappear from the outside of your property. Your recycling bags will be opened and ransacked and then left for the South Easter to do its job spreading stuff all over the driveway and road.
One neighbour remarked:
With so many builders around, petty crime is bound to happen.
Which might be true, but is also an pretty crap way of shrugging your shoulders and just accepting it.
Well, not on my watch, you bastards. Try me*.
But is the end in sight?
Possibly. I mean, they’ll run out of stuff to build in the end, won’t they? But I can’t see anything slowing down or finishing up in the next few months. And as I might have alluded to above, I’m really rather pissed off with the whole situation already.
.
* …again, because you’ve already nicked the letterbox off our front wall.