Category: learning curve

A better day

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I’m on the mend, and some nice drugs quickly made my unmanageable headache manageable this morning, so I’ve been up and about and trying to catch up with all the jobs I’ve missed out on doing this week. The sun has kicked in as well, meaning that I feel (somewhat) more confident in prepping the garden and our outside spaces for Spring and some nicer weather.

The only dissention at this change in season seems to be coming – vocally – from the local Cape Rain Frog population. They’re much happier when it’s wet and cool. These blue skies and warm sunshine aren’t for them. They’re letting us know.

I’m still a little short of oomph, so things aren’t going as quickly as they could be, but on the plus side, at least the sun has charged up the house batteries and meant that I can do some energy-heavy tasks like washing the washing machine. Our Bosch machine has a special programme for this, which is 90 minutes of splashing around clean water at 90oC. Super effective, but not something that you want to be paying for via your meter. Hence today being a good day to do it: we’re dragging 3000W in at the moment, more than 80% of it going straight there.

I know. Sounds like an odd one until you see the colour of the water that’s supposedly “cleaning” your clothes. I’m well aware that even with your own Spring cleaning programme in full swing, you’re not looking for a sign to wash your washing machine, but if by any chance you were, then this is it.

Anyway. Lawn done, washing machine done, energy (mine) depleted. Time to sit down (and probably fall asleep) in front of the football.

Nogulhas

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We gave up on going down to Agulhas this weekend. The thought of having to do the detour through Hermanus on the first weekend of the school holidays, together with my not shaking this damn virus (it’s not that virus, by the way, I did check), was just too much. Add to that the upcoming final exams and the thought of sharing a car for a few hours with an upcoming final examinee: it just seemed silly.

There’s also the issue of whether the Struisbaai road is open yet. No, says the municipality. But everyone’s using it. Including one guy in a Chevrolet Spark. And if one of them gets through, then you know it’s ok.

We’ll make a plan when we can make a plan.

So instead, we’re stuck at home, watching another “good, but not good enough” performance from United and not going to horse riding (not me), because it rained again last night and there’s just nowhere left for that water to go. I can’t really say that I was looking forward to going out though, so maybe not such a bad thing.

Another early night then, and let’s see if I can get myself mended.

Why is there so little crime in Iceland

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Instagram has this tricky question covered.

Because it could be because of the amazing actions of this lot.

Or it could be for another reason:

Sadly, plenty of words rhyme with “Misdaad”, which perhaps goes some way to explaining the somewhat out of control crime situation, locally.
Other question: Can my blogging software handle the letter “Ash” in the middle of “glæpur”?

Apparently so. I’ll be checking on some other Icelandic alphabetical vagaries (including “the five lost letters of the English language“) in the near future.

There’s always Juan

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As the biggest floods in living memory hit the Agulhas Plain…

…and farmers try desperately to save their livestock and livelihoods by appealing to the community to come out with small boats and help rescue drowning sheep…

Group member (in the truest sense of the word) Juan Otto shared this:

Basically translated:

“You counted them. Poor planning if you ask me (no-one did), [they] knew what was coming.”

In a world that needs far fewer Juan Ottos, don’t be a Juan Otto.

He might be thinking that it was poor planning. You might think the same. And you were both free to voice that opinion, but he chose to and you didn’t. Well done, you.

The bar here is so low that it’s a tripping hazard in hell, but great news: you’re not a twat.

A quick skim of Juan’s timeline reveals – aside from his cell phone number: oops! – the inevitable plaasmoorde links, a love of Steve Hofmeyr, Toyotas, guns and sea fishing, a deep hatred of Jacob Zuma (fair enough), a 2017 post claiming that the Russian nuclear deal had gone through (it never did), and an unhealthy obsession with sharing news of arrests for abalone poaching.
All with a lovely underlying theme of thinly veiled you-know-what.

Amazing. All the usual boxes ticked. I was shocked.

The fact that the warning was upped from a Level 6 to a Level 9 merely hours before the storm hit can’t have helped the farmers. Not that we should blame the meteorologists. These sorts of low pressure areas are volatile and unpredictable and their effects can be extremely localised.

As for the community, they apparently turned out in their numbers to help the two farms worst affected. I haven’t seen a count yet (which will likely upset Juan), but it seems like at least hundreds of animals were saved.

Well done, Struisbaai.
(Not you, Juan.)

Bar

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12 hours sleep last night. Something I never needed before Covid.

Not that I’m sick. Just need some sleep. 12 hours of it, apparently.

Much work and good progress on the bar today. Curtains, furniture, the last of the skirting boards, even a picture. It’s getting there.

Tonight: some well-deserved European footy in front of the fire.