Here we go…

A little over 4 years after we moved into this place, and with our ensuite bathroom top of the list of priorities for renovation when we moved into this place, tomorrow morning will see us finally begin the renovation of our ensuite bathroom.

Eish.

It’s not like we haven’t done other stuff instead. The living room has been transformed. The kitchen refloored. The bar has been completely redone. New French windows. We built a braai. We got rid of the horrible ou doos tiling in the entrance hallway. The kids’ bedrooms have been recarpeted and reglazed. There are several (or more) other new windows around the place.

And these were the things that we chose to do. There was a lot of fixer-upper stuff that has been forced upon us (and this) along the way.

It would have been great to get all of this done ages ago, but the magic money tree simply doesn’t bear that much fruit.

The bathroom was awful when we moved in – hence the priority thing – and so we had to do a few things to it to make it less awful and more livable with. But it turned out that those things apparently made it very livable with, and so we have lived with it for 4 whole years.

Oops.

Now, the time has come to bite the bullet and get on with starting over. Over the next few days, it will be completely gutted, back to the bare walls (and in a couple of places, beyond the bare walls). And then a new bathroom shall spring forth, phoenix-like, from the fiery(?) ruins.

And, since they were here anyway, we’re getting them to remove the hideous guest bathroom tiles and sort that out too.

The next few weeks are going to be pretty stressful, but it will – it will – all be worth it.

In hot water

But for once, this is a Good Thing. The issues with the geyser turned out to be no more than a faulty/broken isolator switch that needed replacing, and it has now been replaced. We are now able to shower and frolic in heated water once again. Given that it’s getting quite chilly in the evenings, this is very welcome.

Could I have done it myself? Yes, maybe, but let’s leave high current electrics in dark, poky, inaccessible places to the experts, shall we? That way, you can sleep easy knowing that you’re unlikely to have any increased risk of a house fire because of your amateur efforts.

Safety first.

Molton Brown Curry Club tonight and we’re trying somewhere new. Bit of a risk, given that we already generally frequent the best places in the city for either curry or steak. So what are we doing trying somewhere different?

Well, it’s always worth a try: just in case. This particular restaurant comes recommended, and it’s pretty much on the – now infamous – CSS Arc, which comprises the best Curry, Sushi and Steak places in Cape Town ( Bihari, Kobe, Picanha, obvs) in a curved 500m line.

So let’s go in with an open mind, shall we?

Review tomorrow. Possibly.

Census debacle

We have to do a census thing. It’s been at least 10 years since the last one and we need to stand up and be counted – for reasons. There’s an option to do it online (thank the heavens) and I gladly grasped that with both hands, so that the beagle wouldn’t eat the local volunteer. But then I noticed that the URL it sent me to ended with gov.za and my heart sank.
It’ll be shit, I thought.
And it is.
Because in true South African government style, the UI is just horrible, nothing works properly and the things it is asking me are… well… bizarre.

Like:

So, I put our house number (let’s say it’s 25) and then “House”, because we live in a house (I didn’t think it actually needed to know what colour it was from the Plascon range) and now – even though it said that it was going to ask for my address later in the process – it thinks my address is “25 House”. Which is going to get it rejected immediately.
Perhaps a field asking for – I don’t know – my “Address” might have been a better way forward. Because no-one wanting your details in any other circumstance asks:

OK, and could I have your name, unit/flat number and further description of the structure/unit, please?

Do they?

And who lives at “500 Green House”, anyway? The SA Post Office isn’t going to be able to deliver anything to you with an address like that, are they? Mind you, the SA Post Office is so dysfunctional and wrecked by corruption and theft that it isn’t really able to deliver anything to anyone anyway, so why not go for 500 Green House? Just for the giggles.

And it’s already a LOT of work. Especially if you have moved from “8 House” to “25 House” since the last census. Which we have. So I tell it that we’ve moved and it asks “where from?”, but won’t allow me to enter anything but Athlone, Belhar or Bellville. So now I’ve moved from Belhar simply because at least it’s an answer I can give, and it asks “Why did you move?”.

I mean, have you seen Belhar?

But more seriously, I selected that the household had moved. Just moved house. No divorce, no fire, no death or destruction: we just moved house. But then, even though it already knows exactly who lives in my household, I have to jump through all the same hoops for my wife. And my son. And my daughter. One of us now comes from Athlone. I think it’s the missus.

Ugh. Just populate the form for me.
I don’t have time for 176 drop down menus for each person – most of which don’t work (the menus, not the people) – when I’ve already given you all the same information, anyway.

And I wasn’t even halfway through the very first section.

To add insult to injury, the site then crashed. And I can’t get back in. So, long story short, I’ve given up. I’ll try again tomorrow now I’m more aware of the size of the mountain of bullshit between me and the finish line.
I will prepare with coffee and biltong and lock myself away in my office until it’s all done.

Right now though: some football, I think.

Day 689 – Everything smells of compost

It’s a year to the day since we moved into this house, and the garden is taking the strain at the moment. Builders, summer heat, no rain, and some nasty pests which are taking advantage of the weakened state of the plants to move in and do their nasty pesty stuff.

I decided to fight back today, and headed down to the local garden centre (struggling to get past The Irrigation Bore) to buy some things to treat the garden to some delicious garden nutrients and kill the pests.

Long story short, the garden will benefit hugely from my heroic efforts in the medium term, but in the short term, everything smells of compost.

Including the beagle.

Right now, a cold beer and some football (my fantasy side destroyed by impending Champions League fixtures).

Well deserved (the beer, that is).