Category: learning curve

Best deal?

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I think we did ok on Black Friday.

It was fortunate timing for replacing items after this.

But we don’t splurge. We select the deals which work for us, and we use the opportunity of a discount to purchase things we were going to get anyway.

Except, well… There was this on Simonsig’s Instagram:

We’re pricing like it’s 1969. ?
For today only, the first 50 customers who purchase our Sunbird Sauvignon Blanc 2024 can take home a case for ONLY R90 (that’s R15 a bottle).

We chose Sunbird for a reason – that 1969 invoice listed three white wines, a reminder that our story began with white. And in summer, nothing beats a crisp Sunbird Sauvignon Blanc.

One day. One deal. It’s our way of tipping the hat to where it all started.

Bullsh…. Nonsense, I thought. No-one sells R750 worth of wine for R90.

But obviously, I clicked through anyway, and there it was.
So I tried to buy some. And then I did buy some.

Because it was a genuine deal. (T&Cs meant one case per customer.)

And the money went off my account, and then the wine arrived this morning:

I’m not a white wine expert, but:

A perfect aperitif on a warm summer day, this wine also works very well with rich and fatty foods. Try it with salads, goat’s milk cheese, lemon-garnished fish dishes and Thai foods.

sounds pretty good, but it sounds even better when it comes in a R15 a bottle.

That case also looks good when stacked on top of the other… “several”… cases that also arrived today from other places, stocking up ahead of Ke Dezemba.

Is this a message?

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Long day. Good day.

Lots of fun around the braai and watching a bit of sport. No win for a racehorse, nice win for United, big win for South Africa in the rugby. Eben Etzebeth remains a complete twat.
(Was there ever any doubt?)

But despite those positives, it does seem like the universe was trying to send me a message with the stuff that was appearing on my phone this morning.

Stuff like:

Sunglasses, phone, wallet, car key…. will to live?

It’s not an unreasonable suggestion.

And then there was this:

Oh, often.

Usually in the traffic or when I meet an oven door unexpectedly, but I don’t like to limit myself.

Happy to give it go anywhere really.

But, as I say, today really didn’t turn out to be one of those days.

Which was nice.

If you never try, you’ll never know…

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Indeed:

The mantra “If you never try, you will never know” captures the spirit of exploration, growth, and fulfilment. It encourages us to “break free from the shackles of fear”, step into the unknown, and embrace the opportunities that await.

Wow. They make it sound so adventurous, don’t they?
And yes, all of what you read there is absolutely correct, of course.

But it’s also a little disingenuous, because there’s a whole other side to it that isn’t mentioned above.

Take for example my day today. I did a lot of mundane stuff which I have done many times before, and so to which the mantra in the title doesn’t apply.
I’ve already tried it – previously and often – and I am fully aware of the implications and experiences thereof.

One of my jobs was cleaning the oven (I told you it was mundane), and the issue with cleaning the oven is the lingering smell of oven cleaner. And so I left the oven door open and the fan on to air the oven out.

I’ve done that before as well.

I went walking barefoot into the kitchen maybe an hour later (still nothing new), just as a bird flew across the back windows. Probably just a Cape Turtle Dove, but in the bright sunshine outside, the sudden movement really caught my eye.
What I hadn’t previously tried was going around the right hand corner, while looking over to the left, and allowing my right lateral cuneiform bone to come into sudden and somewhat forceful contact with the glass and metal corner of the oven door – folded down handily at lateral cuneiform bone height.

Sweet baby Jesus.

It was like a scene from Tom and Jerry, but with fewer domestic mammals. There were stars and bluebirds circling around my head as my involuntary nervous system hastily adjusted blood flow and balance mechanisms to keep me from falling over.

I – probably wisely – decided to pre-empt any fainting spell as the tunnel vision closed in and, after a controlled descent – had a little sit down on the kitchen floor and tried not to vomit.

Look. This was much earlier in the afternoon. I’m ok now. I mean, my foot is pretty purple, I can’t really walk and I’m in a decent amount of pain, but it seems that I actually survived that acute phase of injury and I have high hopes that I’ll be fine in a few weeks.

But would I advise you to “break free from the shackles of fear”, and smash your right foot into an oven door?

No. No, I would not.

I have tried that so that you will never have to know.

Thank me later.

Actually speechless

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So thank goodness I’m writing this down.

Regular readers – yeah, plural because I’m an optimist – might recall that on Monday, I was wondering whether to stay up late for the football.

I decided to be sensible and not to. But then circumstances took over anyway. Because sadly, our son’s car was broken into while he was dodgeballing, and stuff – a lot of stuff – was stolen. Parked outside, in a private car park, under a very bright floodlight and behind security-manned barriers and with only one way onto (and off) the site, 50 whole metres of direct sight from the security booth.
His was one of about ten cars that got done.

So those two security guys are at best, utterly useless, and at worst, actually just complicit. As a TikkiTokker would say: “Let me know what you think in the comments”.

As is the way with these things, we’re not sure exactly when it happened. But for police and insurance purposes, we’re saying about 8pm.

Reporting it all to the police took quite a while, and then there was the drive home, and so actually, I was still wandering about at half past midnight, and yes, I was absolutely right, my body did not appreciate the 6am wake up call in the morning.

Not one bit.

Yesterday was all about paperwork and glass vacuuming. But can I just shout out our insurance?

Because the working day begins at 8:30am.

The claim form arrived at 8:50am and we had Glassfit in touch with us before 9am*.

I submitted the claim form yesterday afternoon, the claim was settled by close of business yesterday and the money was paid into our account at 10:30am today. That’s only 38½ hours from the incident. And only 26 hours since we told them about the incident.

Bloody hell.

Here in SA, we – quite rightly – complain about the poor service we get (and there’s plenty of it to choose from), but it’s only right that we praise the good service as well. And this is more than good. It’s unbelievable. (But it is also true.)

So. Despite all the ads you see for that green and purple company, can I recommend that if you are looking for a decent insurer, then maybe you should give RBS a go? If you want, you can tell them that I sent you, but I doubt that it’ll make any difference either way.

Absolutely mindblowing stuff.

.

* There’s no window glass in stock in Cape Town, so we have to wait until Friday or Monday before it can be fitted, depending on transport, but I don’t think that I can blame anyone in particular for that.

Lighthouse Directory

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Oh wow. Remember when the internet used to be like this?

Pure HTML. No fancy languages, scripts or tricks.

Better still is that this site is still regularly updated, and it’s all about lighthouses.

I haven’t had time to exhaustively search it just yet, but it does seem to bear a reference to literally every lighthouse in the world.

Add in the latest lighthouse news and pretty much anything else lighthouse-related, and not only is this lovely nostalgia, it’s also a really nice resource.