It’s HOT.
And then God hath spake unto the people of Cape Town and He hath said:
“And lo, now I am going to evaporate whatever puddles of muddy water there may be left in your dams!”
And the people did not rejoice and they were not joyful.
They were rather sweaty though.
A picture is worth a thousand words, they say. In my humble opinion, it’s going to have to be a pretty detailed photo for someone to wax lyrical for 1000 words about it though.
Still, sometimes words aren’t the only way that a photograph’s worth can be measured. How about feelings? Not emotions: I don’t believe in them, since I’m a tough, macho Yorkshireman.
I’m talking about my interaction with my immediate environment.
And this photograph from FOTB Chris Wormwell:
I’m currently sitting in an office which is slightly hotter than the Sahara, because the person I’m sharing it with appears to be cold-blooded like some sort of reptile, but all I need to do to feel a little cooler is look at Chris’ Glen Mooar image above.
It’s only a temporary fix though, and we’re going to have to reach some sort of compromise over the aircon soon – especially with summer right around the corner now. It’s not likely to be cooler anytime soon and I have to wear these clothes for two days because of the water shortages.
And I am MELTING!
[looks at photograph above again]
Ah! That’s better.
We’re replacing a bit of flooring at home. The kitchen was looking scruffy and needed some work. The laundry is attached to the kitchen and so that now needs doing too. The study tiles are being replaced which would have meant that the guest bathroom stood out like a sore tiled thumb and so that’s being done too.
Apparently, it’s going to take three days. That’s also what they said last time when they did the floor in the living and dining rooms.
It took nine.
We’re lucky enough that we can manage without the guest bathroom for a few days, and with work winding down and school wound down, we don’t need the study much either at the moment. The kitchen is kind of a different matter though. Three days without a sink or a cooker is going to make me grumpy. (Hello, Uber Eats). Nine days will make me angry.
Of course, when it’s all done, I’m sure that it will look great. And the heavy duty option we’ve chosen (see: kids, beagle) means that we won’t have to do it again for 25 years. Or something.
Soon there will also be a new handrail in the kitchen (the beagle chose to teeter on the edge of the unguarded garage steps as soon as I removed the old one this morning) and repainted cupboards. A new desk will follow in the study and then we are all done on house renovations until Mrs 6000 gets itchy feet once again.
Next week, then.
You could be listening to a Bruce Springsteen effort from the late 80s or early 90s, but you’re not. It’s better. Somehow updated, energetic. Modern. New.
It’s this, from The War On Drugs:
One of the quirkiest videos I’ve seen in ages. The album is a revelation. Go play.
Sorry to dash this off and run, but I’ve had a very busy morning, a very busy afternoon, and I’m about to have a very busy evening.
Our little corner of Africa is a long way from anywhere important, which can sometimes be a bit of an inconvenience. It’s about 8 hours driving or 2 hours flying to even get out of the country. And then you’re going to find yourself in Namibia, which is lovely, but which is also rather a long way from anywhere important.
However, this geographical solitude seems to have paid some dividends when it comes to avoid nuclear holocaust:
Yep. Unless your Spanish and/or Portuguese is up to scratch, or you really, really like snow, it looks like Cape Town (ok, and a bit of Namibia too) is the place to be once Kim Jong-Un starts throwing his metaphorical toys out of his metaphorical cot.