Day 484 – No surprise

First off, thanks for all your lovely, supportive comments on various platforms. They’re all appreciated.

I have Covid-19.

Yep. No surprise that my PCR test came back positive. I think I’d decided what it was fairly early on in the course of things and my senses of smell and taste disappearing 36 hours ago really meant that we were just crossing the Is and dotting the Ts.

So this is Day 4, because now everything has to be given a title and an order so that we can work out what comes next. Day 4 hasn’t been too bad: my headache has gone for the moment, which is a huge relief, but my respiratory symptoms are a bit worse. Swings and roundabouts, then.

Apparently, according to my doc, days 6 and 7 are a complete bastard, which is good to know, because its always nice to have something to look forward to.

Last Friday, I was looking forward to a sunny weekend and a braai. This Friday, I was sitting, shivering, listening to my GP tell me under what conditions I should be admitted to hospital.

I’m making the best of the better moments: fresh air and sunshine, a blog post, sorting out my will etc etc. And then I sleep when I feel rubbish again.

I’m obviously concerned about the next few days, but I’m also really irritated that I’m having to go through this at all. Because a better – even vaguely competent – vaccine rollout would have meant that this never happened. And, given that I almost certainly picked this up at the supermarket last week, if people could just learn to put a fucking mask over both their face holes, I probably wouldn’t be here either.

I’ve been so careful for the last 18 months and it’s finally paid off in one way. So much so that I only needed to inform 1 person of my result, and that because he came here to drop something off on Sunday (masks on, social distanced, one Pfizer shot a few weeks ago – he should be fine).

I really, really wanted to go out and do a thing this weekend (if you know, you know), but I didn’t. The FOMO was real, but wow, with hindsight the implications would have been huge. So, I don’t know: if you’re thinking about doing something… don’t.

And sure, it’s less than great that I went for my jab on Monday and I was likely infectious, but sadly, I had no idea. On that note, looking back, feeling just a little off colour that morning was actually hugely important, otherwise I’d be wondering if this was just a vaccine reaction (well, until I got the test results, anyway).

What more to add? I dunno. My logical brain is telling me not to worry about things getting worse. I don’t have any comorbidities or risk factors, so I should be fine. Of course, ideally, you’d choose not to have Covid-19 as well for complete peace of mind, but it appears that that ship has sailed.

And thanks to my wife and kids, who are all likely infected as well (but maybe not to this extent), and are still doing amazing things in looking after me and the household. I chose well. Them… maybe less so. Lol.

Right. Let me go and sit in the sun with the beagle. Because when it comes to being lazy on the patio, I really couldn’t learn from anyone better.

See you tomorrow.

Day 467 – 467

Day 467 of lockdown.

Short of inspiration and tired of life because it’s all so very bloody depressing, I decided to look up the number 467 to see if there was anything significant about it, aside from it being a prime number.

Actually, Wikipedia didn’t mention that it was a prime number, but it did have lots of exciting info about the year 467.

Year 467 (CDLXVII) was a common year starting on Sunday, of the Julian calendar, the 467th Year of the Common Era (CE) and Anno Domini (AD) designations, the 467th year of the 1st millennium, the 67th year of the 5th century, and the 8th year of the 460s decade. At the time, it was known as the Year of the Consulship of Pusaeus and Iohannes (or, less frequently, year 1220 Ab urbe condita).

I’m wondering how often (if ever) it was actually called year 1220 Ab urbe condita, given that I’ve never heard of the more common Year of the Consulship of Pusaeus and Iohannes.

This was interesting:

Emperor Skandagupta, ruler of the Gupta Empire, dies after a 12-year reign, as Huns consolidate their conquests in western India. He is succeeded by his half-brother Purugupta.

…if only because the current Gupta Empire also hit a bit of a rocky patch yesterday:

They were the ones who (ugh… “allegedly”) benefitted to the tune of billions and billions of Rands after their State Capture of South Africa.

Elsewhere:

Ancient Hillforts in Britain are re-fortified

They were looking a bit shabby.

And:

King Genseric extends his pirate raids in the Mediterranean Sea; the Vandals sack and enslave the people living in Illyricum, the Peloponnese and other parts of Greece.

Happy 457 days. Happy 467 day.

Day 464 – Nightmare on our street

(with apologies to Freddy Kruger)

The recent stormy weather has raised a number of issues with the (still new) (to us) house to the top of the “Oh Shit” list. Chief amongst these was the few hundred litres of water that poured into our living room the other night. But that’s only brought more problems to light: damaged guttering (when the insurance-provided contractors took down the waterlogged ceiling), which will need to be replaced before they replace the ceiling. Things are still very wet, despite our best efforts to dry them up using a dehumidifier, the fireplace on full blast, and the beagle as a big sponge.

The season being what it is, it looks like we’re in for a long wait before the waterproofing team can come and charge us lots of money to make things better. But we don’t really have any choice on the delay or the cash.

Add to that a bit of a disaster when refitting a light switch after a painting job (we now need an electrician), and a new n thousaand Rand more quote from the flooring guy because the existing floor is such a state and you’ll perhaps understand why I am tolerating this new place at the moment, rather than enjoying it.

We’ll get there, but I do wonder how many more problems we’re likely to encounter before we actually arrive.

Day 461 – Poor takes

First off, I got a miserable 4/8 right on my Euro 2020 R16 predictions. That’s why I’m not a betting man. No-one could have foreseen France’s weird capitulation, Holland and Sweden’s decisive red cards and England’s… er… win.

It’s not for me to talk about what’s racist and what’s not, but I am completely happy to talk about how you can choose your sources to suit your narrative. So this tweet:

…might seem to make a very fair point until you look at the other UK newspaper front pages this morning and note that the good doc has only chosen the to share the ones that don’t feature Raheem Sterling. Like ignoring the front page of The Sun. Which is usually a very good idea, fair enough, but not for his reasons.

Or The Times:

Even the FT (That’s Financial, not Football) got overlooked:

But while we’re on the subject of poor takes, did England really win? Or is it all part of the “experimental vaccine” plot? Which doesn’t exist, but if it did, was England’s “win” actually just to keep our minds off it?
Sarah Plumley BA PGCE thinks so:

To which the all-knowing Dj42(74404412) sagely replies:

Seems legit, and will surely be proven true when we crash out at the hands of Ukraine at the weekend (not an official prediction) and suddenly realise that we’re now 5g-nanobot chipped, somewhat magnetic, DNA-manipulated, mind-controlled mutant zombies.

Or just a bit less vulnerable to Coronavirus infection. One of the two, anyway.

And not me, anyway, because I won’t see a vaccine for many months yet, thanks to SA’s disastrous vaccine rollout (see 6000 miles… passim).

Sarah’s tweets are a veritable smorgasbord (have you ever known of a smorgasbord that wasn’t veritable?) of Thin Aluminium Millinery: Epstein, Big Pharma, IVM, Trump, “Sheeple” every second post.
It’s amusing to watch her calling other people “brainwashed”.

You could argue that maybe I’m just choosing the tweets that suit my narrative.
However, in Sarah’s case, there weren’t any others available.

Day 451 – Sunbirds in the wind at Kirstenbosch

Father’s Day, and after some lovely gifts and a nice coffee in bed, I was lucky enough to be taken out (not in a Mafia way, no) for a picnic brunch at Kirstenbosch.

A few things that are relevant or of interest at this point:

It’s midwinter’s day tomorrow, but today is 28 degrees with a strong, gusting gale force, Bergwind blowing. (You’ll note that that link is illustrated with a photo from Kirstenbosch, almost as proof that it can happen there. Because it does.) It’s hot, dry and very breezy. Not bad for June, great to be out and about, but not great for watching the birds, as their perches were waving about all over the place and the feathery things themselves were very skittish.
Kirstenbosch was empty. Like, park right outside the gate empty. On a sunny Sunday morning (and Father’s Day, nogal) at 10am.
Why is this? Where is everybody? I don’t understand. Still: fantastic for social distancing.
Also, Kirstenbosch needs a bit of TLC. I’ve never had to say that before. Yes, of course it’s still utterly magnificent, but the lawns need a mow and the beds need weeding. Basic stuff that makes a lot of difference to the general appearance and the overall impression. I don’t know if this is a money thing or a Covid thing or a environmental decision, but it looks a bit tatty at the moment.

Anyway, after a very pleasant brunch and an international Zoom call to partially fulfill my own filial duties, I tried to find a few more sheltered places to get some quick shots. The pincushions were bright and cheerful, and the sunbirds were out and about. It was frustrating stuff with the birds flitting at the slightest movement and the flowers being buffeted by the wind from all angles, but I did manage to get a few decent images. You can see them on Flickr here.

I feel that in better conditions, I could have done better, and so I’m determined to pop back “soon” (it is just up the road and we are BotSoc members, after all) and see if I can improve on what I got today.

So… look out for that then, I guess.