Bit of a frustrating day. We’re having some new flooring laid, dragging the house from the 1980s, kicking and screaming into at least the 2010s. (The 2020s are so damn expensive and pandemicky, we felt them best avoided in flooring terms. Sadly, we had very little option in actual chronological terms.) The guys came and did the prep work yesterday, and it took a couple of hours. We were hoping for the same again today, but it took six hours. That’s not to say that they didn’t do an excellent job, but I had plans for four of those six hours. But now they’ll have to wait for tomorrow.
I’m off to see a specialist tomorrow afternoon about this ongoing Covid nonsense. Part of me wants him to cure me completely. Well, I suppose all of me wants him to cure me completely, it’s just that all of me knows that that isn’t going to happen. So tomorrow will be a bit of a watershed moment. Either he has huge plans for my recovery (not ruling out a total cure, but, you know…), or he’s going to tell me to give it another six months and see how we’re doing then.
I’ve always been on of those “well, at least I know where I stand now” kind of people when it comes to medical diagnoses, but I’m not looking forward to the – let’s face it – more probable latter prognosis.
In the meantime, the floor does look much nicer. Next up, replacing the rotting wood of the cottage-paned patio doors, and dragging the house… ah, you know the story.
I’m off outside to enjoy the last of the sunshine and try and get a photo of one of our Cape Robin Chats.
Knackered (surprise, surprise) after a busy day of Robben Island prep. I assigned a couple of tasks, found a very friendly butcher, almost sorted a whole budget, listed some birds and animals, and purchased 200 plastic sacks and 6kg of chicken nuggets.
After my being broken yesterday morning, we had an enjoyable afternoon out at a friend’s place with sparkling conversation, delicious not-homemade pizza and lots and lots of sitting down. It’s hard to say which was the best bit, but the sitting down was very nice.
Then home just in time to see United bounce two goals in in the last ten minutes to beat the mighty Stoke City:
…and then early to bed.
It’s been a bit of a lazy Sunday. We’re looking forward to the return of our prodigal son, who has had the worst weather for his Scouts survival weekend. Cold (9C), Wet (26mm) and Miserable (3 sad faces*). In the meantime, I’ve lit the fire (the SA equivalent of having to switch your central heating on again) and played some lackadaisical pool.
I’m about to go and sit in front of Everton v West Ham, and even if it’s really exciting, I absolutely reserve the right to fall asleep on the couch like an old man. If the caps fits…
In the New Space Race, it seems that for at least one company, PR is everything. The other one seems more concerned with actually doing useful stuff, which I much prefer, but on this occasion, Jeff Bezos and Blue Origin won my attention and my viewership:
There’s something amazing about the oldest man to go to space (7km over the Kármán line, nogal) being the most famous fictional space captain ever. And the emotion when he came back down. So very touching.
What you have given me is the most profound experience. I am so filled with emotion with what just happened. I hope I never recover from this.
And everyone came back safely. Which was… lucky.
It felt like I was watching a TV drama or a screenplay or maybe a computer simulation. The drones, the graphics, the rockets. Until he actually started speaking. And then you realise that it’s actually all for real.
Sorry for not getting back to you yesterday. I quite literally ran out of energy.
This isn’t unusual at the moment.
I’ve been pushing myself a bit for the last couple of days. And with a good reason. I’ve inadvertently(?) signed up for a trip to Robben Island, helping to manage about 40 (forty) 12-year-olds on a school visit. And something, I’m not sure quite what, is telling me that I’m going to have to be a bit further on in fitness and general recovery than I am now if I’m going to survive.
I have two weeks.
Last year’s trip was something very special, and I’m very privileged to have been asked along this time as well. But I’m mindful that I didn’t have Covid last time around. This time I’m still struggling a bit and the trip is an extra day. But there’s a whole weekend to sleep through just afterwards, so I’m sure I’ll be ok.
Step counts into the 12,000s for the last two days indicate that I’ve been testing my limits and – while I’m very fatigued by early evening – I have prevailed. It’s also been very good for the list of jobs around the house, many of which have been put on hold for the last three months.
Corner turned? Maybe.
I might even try a bit of a run tomorrow (or I might not).
Right now, I have some business in Claremont to attend to before 5:30, so let me go and do that before I fall asleep.
Can I stay up til kick off in the England game tonight (8:45pm)? Will it be worth it if I do?