Maintenance visit in progress

Posted on

Unable to play footy tonight due to mild injury, I made the best of a bad situation and headed down to Agulhas to do a few jobs. A clean and tidy, sort out the electricity, meet the builder and get stuff ready for a proper family visit a bit later this month.

You don’t want to be faffing about making up beds and stuff when you arrive. You want to dive straight into the holiday frame of mind with a beer and some sunshine.

But it’s not all work, work, work. I went for a 4km wander along the beach in the chilly (14oC, feels like 8, apparently) Westerly breeze (32kph, gusting 40, apparently) and I saw… no-one. Not a soul. Amazing.

I’ve always been a fan of the off-season seaside resort (not quite what this place is, but it has the same sort of vibe), but it’s always a special privilege to have an entire beach to yourself.

Didn’t take the camera out today, so that’s a phone image above, but I’m very happy to report that Murphy’s Law did not come into play today, and so I didn’t miss that shot, because there was no that shot to be had anyway.

Phew.

And now it’s back to the cottage before the night really sets in, open a bottle of Roy Vane, and make a very small braai on which to place a bit of sirloin, which has been soaking up some Hendo’s since my arrival here.

Meat, bread, salad, wine. The four staples of a perfect, simple diet.

Early night, hoping for enough recovery to do a little jog in the morning in the new trail running shoes. If not: photo walk, I think.

But more of that if it happens. Right now, that steak needs cooking.

Bon appétit!

Left it too late

Posted on

A busy day, which has left little or no time for bloggery. And I’m now exhausted and need to make decisions like whether I’m going to go and do a solo “functional” visit to Agulhas tomorrow or the next day.

Because I need to be back in town for Saturday, when I’m lucky enough to have a ticket for the sold out rugby game at the Stadium.

So watch out for the excitement of 1 or 2 days down South, and some (or more) images from the rest of the week generally.

Wise Words

Posted on

Words from one Jeremy Clarkson, the Marmite of TV presenters.

This is from a column he wrote over four years ago [here’s a PDF of the whole thing if you are interested], but it still rings very true: maybe even more so now than it did then.

And yes, he’s divisive, and his columns are deliberately provocative: that’s how he works. But when the read the quote below, you’ll see that he is calling for unity and common sense, and it would be very odd if you didn’t agree with his sentiments here.

We seem to be annoyed by absolutely everything. Vegetarians are enraged by people who eat meat. Remainers are enraged by people who voted for Brexit. Poor people are enraged when a rich neighbour applies for planning permission to plant a hedge. There’s no tolerance at all. The middle ground has become as alien as Mars. And it’s got to stop.

Everyone. Tories, Muslims, young people, the elderly, migrants, rockers, hip-hoppers, Jewish people, vegetablists, white people, bacon enthusiasts, speed freaks, the fat, the fit, the timid, black people, policemen, Christians, vicars and socialists. If we want to live in a happy country, we’ve all got to come together as one.

And gang up on the cyclists.

You’ve nailed it, Jeremy.

Thank you.

You can’t hide Uranium on the Isle of Man

Posted on

Remember that Uranium that was stolen from the nuclear power plant on the Isle of Man*?

Of course you do.

It’s been a mystery as to where it disappeared to, ever since it got taken**.

But inadvertently, a local photographer seems to have found the hiding place, simply by taking a local photograph.

Because surely there can be no reason for this eerie red/orange glow, and fuzzy focusing around this traditional Manx cottage, other than radiation seeping through the thick stone walls.

If you look carefully at the branches in the top right hand corner, you can see that they too have been affected by the alpha particles leaching out from the stolen isotope.
It’s also melted half of one of the chimney pots. Nasty.

And the patch of earth in the foreground with no grass growing? That’s probably where they put it down when they got it out of the Uranium theft vehicle.

I know the location of this particular cottage, and I’ll be passing on that information to the Isle of Man police force, so that they can get the International Atomic Energy Agency involved, sharpish.

After all, the only alternative to this being the actual spot that the pilfered element has been hidden, is the local photographer in question applying a ridiculous number of filters to this image to make it “look better” than it did when it was taken.

And I think we’re all aware which one of these things is more likely to be true.

I think it’s very obvious that a serious crime has been committed here.

* I’ll take Things That Didn’t Happen for 200 please, Alex.
** It hasn’t, because I made the incident up just now.

Still parenting

Posted on

Parenting continues. It just changes with time. With our daughter, we’re now at that age where almost everything is ok to do on her own, but sometimes there’s still a need (often mutual) to be present for backup and reassurance.

And so there are limits and negotiations and compromises. To be fair, the discussions are all very civil and understanding.

I’ve really matured.

More seriously, Obs on a sunny Saturday lunchtime is a good case in point. Probably completely cool and safe, but just that bit of lingering doubt. And so it was decided that we are hands off, but nearby.

And you think you’re overreacting until you wander down Lower Main Road and get approached by two dodgy types in as many minutes. And then you return to your car to find someone looking through the rear window for stuff to steal.

Lovely.

So while I’ve definitely had better Saturdays, I’m also very willing to be here. Just in case.

High hopes of being home for at least some of the football later, though.