A long one

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Careful now.

The day, that is.

With Mrs 6000 waking at 4am for a trip to Johannesbeagle, last night’s slumbers were restless at best. No-one sleeps well when they have to be up that early. And therefore, by extension, no-one who is sleeping next to someone who has to be up that early sleeps well either.

But there was still life to live here and plenty to be done. School happened. Jobs happened. Some jobs took much longer than they should have done, the blame for this being equally shared between them being a little more difficult than was anticipated, and it being “today me” that was doing them.
But then they did get done and everyone got to their extra mural stuff on time, and everyone got picked up from their extra mural stuff on time.

And that even if I popped up to the top floor of the car park near to where the Boy Wonder was coaching the Dodgeball juniors, just because Cape Town looked lovely this evening.

Especially if you overlook the foreground.

Parent Teacher meetings, the bane of any student’s life, were done via the magic of Google Meet, from hotel lobbies and school car parks, and were both good and great.

And we all made it home safely.

There was dinner: basic, but delicious.
There is a rather nice Bordeaux Blend.
There is some UCL football.

But more than any of these things, there is a bed.

Tired of…

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Tired of a few things at the moment.

The impending World War is a bit tiresome. I do hope that it’s not going to affect our football team weekend away towards the end of the month. That would really be adding insult to injury. Imagine society crashing down around us and you didn’t even get the chance to share a few beers with your mates at what looks like a really decent place in the Klein Karoo before it all kicked off.

Tired of the politics in this country. The iffy polices and the usual pre-election promises and lies. Yes, yes, I know that they’re the same thing. Tired of the polarised viewpoints and the unjustified ad hominem attacks on social media. Weary at the people who think that what’s happening on twitter bears any relation to the situation in the real world.

And, related: HOW HAVE WE SUDDENLY GOT SO MUCH ELECTRICITY? Sure, no loadshedding is great and all, but at what cost is this pre-election “normality” coming? Something unsustainable is happening.
More on that in a future post.
Maybe.

Tired of – and a bit bewildered at – this sort of stunt from local news site (the) Daily Maverick:

I recognise the need for journalism, and I recognise the need for a strong and independent media, but 1) Is that really what they are?, and 2) Is this action a bit OTT and a bit drama llama-y?

Mmm.

Tired of being just being tired. I went to bed ridiculously early yesterday evening, and I slept really well. I just could have done with another few hours. I’m sure you recognise the feeling.

Still did much better than this guy though:

Oh why have all the moonbats come back out of the woodwork recently? Was it the eclipse?
So damn exhausting. They’re suddenly everywhere again, including literally shedloads of Americans who think that Cape Town has been washed away by some massive weird tsunami thing that none of us actually in Cape Town, noticed.

And like that guy above whose name was blanked out on this screenshot, but who has clearly risen like Lazarus, if he’s repeatedly had no pulse for 5 minutes at a time.
If resurrection is a side effect of the covid vaccine, then I think we need to know.

There would be many, many implications.

I think I need to sleep on it…

What to cook?

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Dinner last night was out at a local Italian restaurant. That was very easy.

Dinner tonight is going to be more difficult. It’s a beautiful day, so I was heading towards the braai, but I’ve still got those 20 whole chickens, the 60 eggs and the 110 gallons of water which I really don’t want to go to waste.

Oh, and that lamb.
And a camel (medium size).

So I’m thinking that maybe a stuffed camel is the way to go.

Sure, it’ll take the big pot and the large oven, but the solar can deal with that given the cloudless skies today. And I’m hopeful that with only the family here this evening, there might just be enough left over for lunch tomorrow.

Of course, the only issue with having a large camel-based main course is that there’s rarely any room for desert.

I’m so sorry.

End of an era

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I’ve been going to the same hairdressing place for several (or more) years now. But no more.
The service has been slipping a bit for a while – nothing really bad – just not as good as it was.
And in retrospect, while the signs were there, I kept going along because there was no one thing that was bad enough to warrant moving elsewhere.

Until today.

A mess up with the online booking system. My stylist running so late that they called me over an hour ahead of time to make another arrangement. But then my original guy was free the entire time I was there and the new guy they gave me was running 20 minutes late. The lady washing my hair fresh in from her smoke break so her breath and hands smelt of fags. The new guy trying to sell me stuff the whole time – NOT FROM THE SALON – FROM HIS HAIRDRESSING SIDE HUSTLE. This included (but was not limited to) prescription drugs that he gets “direct from the supplier”.

Breaking off regularly from his work to chat with colleagues, friends, a passing spaniel called Keith. Michael Jackson’s worst hits (Invincible (2001)) loudly on the music system. A rather poor haircut.

Thankfully, I have the good looks to carry it off.

Wax instead of gel. Rushing me out so he could get his next client in just 15 minutes late.

Ms Fag Hands and the actual haircut itself were enough grounds to find somewhere else but overall the whole experience was just horrible today. I couldn’t wait to get out and I can’t wait not to go back.

I think once you’ve worked in a service industry and dealt with the public, you understand that not everything is going to go right 100% of the time. But you still do your best. You’re still professional, right?
And I’m really not a needy customer. I just want the basics done right, and I know from personal experience that that salon can do it.

Or… it could.

Onward and upward. But just not there.

Somewhere else.