Let’s do this again

14 years on, and we haven’t learned a thing.

We’re supposed to be grown-ups. Adults. And yet, at 6pm this evening, we’ll head out onto the pitch for another potentially epic 5-a-side football game against some other supposed adults.

Nothing wrong with that, you might think – if you aren’t in Cape Town, that is, because if you are in Cape Town then you know very well that there’s something very wrong with it – because it’s rather warm out.

Really actually quite warm already.
Almost bordering on hot, one could argue.

And, as I alluded to above, there’s history here. And it really isn’t pretty.

It was horrible. One of the worst footballing experiences of my life. Within 2 minutes of running around, I was gasping, drenched through with sweat, and feeling dizzy and nauseous. These, even by Cape Town standards, were extreme conditions. The ball wasn’t even flying through the air properly. I felt truly awful.
Some sort of sense of self-preservation should probably have kicked in here. But it didn’t. And so, with a couple of breaks, we continued to toil for an hour. What utter, utter idiots.

We all (mostly) remember (some of) that day.
I think my therapist called it PTSD: Phenomenal Temperature, Stupid Decision.

And it’s already 6 degrees warmer today than it was back on that day in February 2012.

Common sense says that they call the games off this evening. At best, it’s going to be extremely unpleasant, at worst, it could actually be dangerous. But they probably won’t. And that being the case, common sense says that we should forfeit the game. But that’s absolutely not how we roll, and I grudgingly have to respect our determination. Even though we’re clearly being very daft here.

I really wouldn’t recommend such bravado though.
To coin Wilfred Owen:

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro manus mori.

The game is still going ahead as I write this.

See you on the other side, I guess.
And yes, you can choose any meaning of that phrase that seems fit.

MBGA

Absolutely no need for this sort of nonsense from our local supermarket.

“American inspired”, “Texas style” burgers:  whatever. We know that the US – and Texas – are famed for their butchery*.

But I don’t think that they’re doing themselves any favours by then trying to use a divisive political slogan to help sell their patties.

Honestly, apart from the political connotations, the suggestion that my burgers weren’t already great is a little disrespectful.

I don’t need my supermarket’s assistance with that. I don’t need any pseudo-transatlantic assistance either.

And I’m certainly not buying anything with that slogan on it.

* I mean of cows, not people in the Middle East.

World’s gone mad.

How is this a real image?

I know it’s couple of days old now, and that things move fast these days, especially in the case of this conflict. But it looks like something from a cartoon.

And yet it’s also tragic that there are kids inspecting this unexploded missile in a field in Syria.

Still, could be worse…

“Ahmed! Stop that right now!”

Kirstenbosch wander

A couple of hours in the sun at Kirstenbosch this afternoon, before the upcoming Matthew Mole concert made things loud and busy.

A few lizards and mice around. Plenty of birds, including a rather hungry Cape Sugarbird (Promerops cafer) and some very pretty, very dainty Black Saw-wings (Psalidoprocne pristoptera)

A few kilometres and some very nice fresh air was just what I needed after an unexpectedly boozy evening out last night and a very necessary lie-in this morning.

Now it’s back to real life with some household chores and a bit of FA Cup football.

First

A quick proud dad moment, as Little Miss 6000 braved a horse high on horse medicine (the horse, not her), an unfortunate incident involving a dog at the showground, and several or more injuries to her shoulder and leg to WIN the next round of jumping at the local horse jumping show.

A glorious red and white rosette is hers, and well-deserved it was too.

A great comeback in the face of adversity.

And that wasn’t it. Because Mrs 6000 also came home with a couple of rosettes for her performances on the back of a very lively horse. It’s actually amazing to live amongst equestrian greats like these.

Of course, theirs weren’t the only great rides on the day, but I will leave other parents and partners, and their blogs to inform you about just how good their offspring and spouses were this morning.
That’s for them to crow about, not me.

A good few hours, well spent.