Is it Spring yet?

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Well, as we’ve said before on here, yes. But actually, no.

But if it’s not quite here yet, it’s certainly coming very soon. I can’t recall a year when I’ve noticed so many things in nature are just “ready to go”. The plants, the weather, the birds… they all seem to be priming themselves in preparation for the joyful explosion that is the end of winter.

And indeed, from my current position atop the deck at the cottage, while I have my warm top on because the wintery wind is rather chilly, it’s also serving a dual purpose in preventing my neck from getting burned by the springtime sunshine. Being from Northern climes and a mix of Anglo-Saxon and Celtic bloodstock, I have to take things a little carefully in the powerful African sun, especially when it hasn’t been around for a few months.

But the yellow-billed kites are back and the greater striped swallows are here, whizzing around me (not sure of their unladen velocity), the bulk carriers are rounding the southern tip of Africa at a safe 10 nautical miles, on their way from China to Nigeria, and Durban to Fortaleza (technically not necessarily a spring thing). There’s a Cape Weaver begging for some of my loadshedding lunch of some chips (crisps) and a Black Label. And across the way, two male Rock Kestrels are fighting for the attentions of a female of the species.

We’re nearly there.

But even as I type, the weather is turning for the worse. Nothing dramatic, but it’s noticeable that there is more white water on the ocean that when I came up here an hour ago (no, I haven’t been blogging the whole time), and the wind is definitely getting up. I have no worries for the evening braai, though. The cottage was designed to be protected against both the ubiquitous southeasters of summertime and the vicious northwesters of winter. So somewhere in between, as we find ourselves right now, should be no problem at all.

Apologies for any typos: the sun is actually ridiculous now and I can’t see a thing.

I think it might be summer already.

Observing

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OK. I have a lot to do today, but I felt that I had to take a quick break and get some thoughts down on paper pixel. And that only because maybe I feel that I should say something today and I do need to clear my mind a little.

Social media are a horrible place to be today. Some might argue the same of any day, but I’d say especially today – and any day when something momentous has occurred.

Today, for me – despite my not being a Monarchist – it does feel like the rug has been pulled a bit. Something big has shifted. A disturbance in the Force, if you will.

When I think back and look through the major historic events that have occurred during my lifetime, the Queen dying would obviously be one of them that’s right up there. Others? 9/11, the Berlin Wall coming down, the Space Shuttle disaster, Chernobyl, the Falklands War (those last two weren’t really “single moment” things, although the sinking of HMS Sheffield was).

What I’m saying is that considering my lifespan, there are relatively few “big things”, and what happened yesterday was certainly one of them. Arguably the biggest, since I’ve obviously never known any other monarch in the UK, and while everything in the world constantly and necessarily changes, the Queen was always someone – something – that was remarkably constant.

That’s not to say that she didn’t change with the times as well, indeed, I think that was one of her most impressive feats: often she was even ahead of the curve. Her Christmas speech in 1952 – remembering that she was just 24 years old, now the head of the Anglican church, and female in an (even more) male-dominated society included this line:

…but I want to ask you all, whatever your religion may be, to pray for me on that day – to pray that God may give me wisdom and strength to carry out the solemn promises I shall be making, and that I may faithfully serve Him and you, all the days of my life.

Which I feel showed amazing foresight, acceptance and openness towards other faiths. Setting a good example from her first moments as monarch.
And something many people could still do a lot better at now, 70 years later.

Later in life, we saw another side of her. Her sense of humour, her incredible work ethic and her vulnerability. The annus horibilis speech in 1992 given that she has given 70 Christmas speeches, the fact that that one remains strongest in the memory is most likely because we saw her human side publicly, maybe for the first time.

The world has lost a wonderful, quiet, perceptive leader.

And, as I said when Prince Philip died last year:

You can learn a lot about people by watching their public reactions to this sort of news.

I recognise that not everyone likes a royal family, and I recognise that Prince Philip may sometimes have been a divisive figure, but some of the comments on social media – particularly those making it all about the individual posting – are both appalling and superb.

As far as I am concerned, you can say what you want. They’re just words. Sometimes pleasant, sometimes humorous, sometimes distasteful, sometimes downright vile. And as I noted above, you don’t have to share my views on the Queen or anything else. But one should always bear in mind that freedom of speech does not mean freedom from the consequences of that speech. Whatever those may entail.

Again:

You can learn a lot about people by watching their public reactions to this sort of news.

It’s worth noting that those downright vile people have always been out there. But sensibly, you probably chose not to associate with them before. Now, their incendiary viewpoints are thrust upon each and every one of us via retweets, “shares” and “likes”, whether we want to hear them (we don’t) or not.

Be the better person. They’re just words. Step back, take a deep breath, quietly observe.

But also: always remember. As you should with the anti-vaxxers and the covid denialists and the rude and the ignorant. Because knowing who or what you’re dealing with will stand you in good stead, should you come to interact with those people in the future.

Some tweets

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Various subjects. As you’ll read.


First up: Covid (of course).

People go to a festival, think they’re safe because “it’s outdoors” (except the shared car journeys, the indoor bits, the bars and the densely crowded, close contact bits), and then they contract an extremely infectious virus.

It’s nothing new.

We’re told that it’s sociology, rather than epidemiology or microbiology that tells us when a pandemic is over. And looking at things sociologically, in many cases – like the festival(s) above – behaviour has returned to normal. Except, if the pandemic is over, why are so many people still getting infected with the causal agent? And this in summer, as well.
Wider society might think we’re done with Covid. The medical experts will tell you differently.

Crime: It’s a huge problem in South Africa. How do we solve it?

It’s not so difficult, apparently:

Actually, it’s been staring us in the face all the time. Rather than increasing policing, relying on better intelligence or working on active rehabilitation of offenders, people should just stop stealing. Then the crime numbers would come down.

You can’t fault his logic. And if we can make it work on theft, then surely robbery, assault and murder should be addressed in the same way.

Just do less of it.

Crime: Sorted.

Photography: The trouble with it being free.

There is indeed a lot of “vapid shit” in the photography sections of the internet. (And to be fair, in a lot of other sections as well.) But, aside from asking people to produce less of it (see above tactic), would having to pay for trendy, hipster, retro film – like we used to have to do – make people care more?

Probably.

But, it would also price many people out of the photography game. And we would miss out on a lot of talent because of that. And so the best way is not to make a return to the “good old days” of film and cassette, but rather to champion and support and share the really good work out there.

And yes, maybe occasionally take the piss out of the really horrific stuff, just for balance.

Loadshedding – now available in California

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Indeed.

So let’s add the USA to the ever-lengthening list of loadshedders and near misses:

Dear old SA
Switzerland
UK
China (including Shanghai)
Australia
Finland
USA
We’re currently (no pun intended) in the middle of a 4 day Stage 2 sesh here, due to breakdowns at six different power stations (including Koeberg), and a late return to service for another unit at another power station.

“Highly experimental” recipe in progress

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When life gives you lemons loquats…

When we bought this place, we also got a loquat tree thrown into the deal. Not specifically, it was just one of the things in the garden. The previous owners didn’t like loquats, apparently. They had asked their gardener to snip off the buds at the beginning of the year to prevent any loquat development.

And I do get why. Which is actually kind of unusual for many of the decisions that were made here.

The birds love the loquats, so there is huge fruit loss from that direction, which also means a fair amount of mess in and around the tree as well. Add to that the beagle, which will happily hoover up anything (in this case, half eaten loquats) that drops to the floor, and the… er… consequences of mammals gorging on soft fruit. Nothing horrific (yet), but we’re going to have continue to keep an eye on that as the season progresses.

Anyway, because we didn’t snip any buds off the loquat tree, today, I went up a ladder and brought down a couple of kilos of actual loquats. I avoided the over-ripe ones, the under-ripe ones and the ones that the starlings had taken a single peck of and moved on elsewhere. And I made – well, I am making – loquat chutney.

It started like this, looking exciting and colourful:

That’s destoned loquats, vinegar, sugar, cabbage, carrot, chili, an apple, red onions, garlic, salt, pepper, a splash of Hendo’s, a splash of red wine. Lob it all in a pan and reduce it down for a number of years. Simples.

And it’s now beginning to take on that world-weary, homogenous chutney appearance:

Which – I am happy to admit – does not look great. But this is chutney. You don’t buy chutney for its rugged good looks. You buy it for it’s sweet, tangy flavour. And this seems to have that in huge amounts.

I’m quite hopeful that I might have made something quite good here. But there’s some more reduction that needs to happen before I can say for definite, so I’m leaving this on a low heat while we go for our regular Wednesday afternoon horse visit to the other side of the Mountain. (Yes, there are other people at home to keep an eye on things.) (Thanks for your concern.)

Stand by then – eventually – for a full report on how successful (or otherwise) this highly experimental recipe turns out to be. Bring on some well-aged Cheddar, I say.

UPDATE: It’s really good. Really strong, but really good. I’m quite impressed with myself.