We’re going away for a few days tomorrow morning, I haven’t even started thinking about packing, and I spent much of this morning on a wild goose chase still looking for a [redacted] as a Christmas gift for my wife. It seems that the suppliers supplying [redacted]s haven’t supplied enough, and now they’ve all gone on holiday.
Bastards.
Obviously, I can’t reveal what the prospective gift is right now, because my wife sometimes reads this blog (although probably not this post because she’ll be waist deep in gin and tonic for the next few days).
But once I have managed to successfully acquire a [redacted] – because I shall prevail – and once Christmas is all done and dusted, I’ll let you all know what it is and we can all wonder together about why there appears to be a local (global?) shortage of them.
Because [redacted]s seem like the sort of thing that there really shouldn’t be a massive demand for at any time of the year…
It’s been a long day after not much sleep last night.
I completely understand why my mind decided that I couldn’t sleep until 1am, after a dramatic Sheffield United win at Millwall and my entirely justified rage at our lanky, Welsh number 9 for his lack of effort in the final few minutes. However, quite why the same mind decided that 4am would be a good time to start thinking about so-called important things instead of sleeping is a bit beyond me.
An early morning followed, with a 7am pilates class – I just go for the stretching – and then a rush home to rescue the washing from the surprise rainstorm.
I decided to throw myself into things and go for a run in the rain, and it was lovely. But it did use what meagre energy I had left. A couple of errands around the locality, and then some horseriding (not me), and suddenly, the day was gone.
And let me tell you: the night isn’t going to last very long either. My bed is singing out to me, and who am I to refuse the Sirens’ call?
I’m sure that I have shared this before, but I can’t find it. However, having seen it again on my Instagram feed last night, I was reminded just how brilliant it is, and so I’ve decided to share it (again?).
It’s from Chaz Hutton – aka Instachaz (there’s a link to his shop there as well) – and it’s just so simply clever.
The two distinct choices available, depending on your mood at the moment in which you complete the jigsaw. Do you take the sensible, responsible approach and enjoy some freedom later, or do you choose to be a bit more ‘devil-may-care’ and then… er… probably also enjoy some freedom later anyway?
Look, I’m usually the former, but catch me at the right moment and I will quite literally not give a toss about what needs to be done that day.
These guys were plentiful in the long grass on the west side of Koringberg over the weekend.
Fully 10cm long and CHUNKY, they’re actually harmless – unless you try to eat them.
And we weren’t about to do that.
I’m fairly sure that this is a female (big one) and a male (little one), but I’m no expert.
Their name comes from their ability to secrete a toxic foam as a defence mechanism from their thoracic glands. The toxins come from their diet, which includes Milkweed – and if you’ve ever encountered milkweed sap, well, you know.
But despite having a face that only a mother could love, they kept themselves to themselves, despite having a lens shoved (probably) a bit too close to them.
So don’t let them put you off coming to South Africa.
It’s the lions and the hippos you need to watch out for.
Back then from a lovely, restful weekend away in Koringberg. A little town miles from anywhere (although still very convenient for the N7), overlooking the rolling Swartland countryside. As the name suggests, its history is very much an Afrikaans settlement, based on the wheat farming in the local area. The huge, out-of-place grain silos and the NG church with its wheat-ear weathervane being the only two notable buildings emphasising its origin.
We stayed here, and made full use of the pool, the spacious wood-fired hot tub, and the huge braai areas. Wine, fresh bread and chocolates on arrival, a friendly host, firewood for days: everything we needed right there. The property is right on the edge of town and literally on the fields, with – as the name suggests – incredible views east towards the Groot Winterhoek mountains and beyond that onto the Koue Bokkeveld.
When we’re away, we usually do things, and I sometimes feel like we are missing out if we don’t try to experience everything that a place has to offer, but since there was really not much to do here, there was no guilty feeling when sneaking away for an afternoon nap, or lazing around doing nothing. And that was great at the end of a long, hard year.
But I still managed a nice run around the place before the heat of the day kicked in – a red and white blur in likely the only Sheffield United shirt Koringberg has ever seen – and then a couple of walks with the camera and some playtime with the nifty fifty.
This clearly isn’t the place to come to if you are after pubs and clubs, nightlife and music until all hours. But if you’ve done enough of that in your life and you want a change of pace to something more tranquil for a few days: it’s perfection.
The weather was rather more breezy than we were expecting, but every bit as hot, and we were very glad of the air-conditioning in each of the bedrooms. But that heat, together with the rich, golden fields and orange earth made for some lovely contrasting warm colours against the always blue skies.
And now? Back to reality for a few days before we head off again for a few days, but this time as part of a large group of friends, which will likely be equal parts fun and chaos. Not quite the peace and restfulness of Koringberg then…
