I’m usually the one that organises the advent calendars for the rest of the family. And I did that again this year.
What a great excuse to enjoy some chocolate.
This year, one got organised for me, too:
It’s from smokedoke.co.za, and it’s a mixture of chili sauces and condiments: one each day, as is the tradition.
I’ll give you an update sometime in December as to how things are going and which items you need to order to spice up your festive season up a bit.
Long day. Good day.
Lots of fun around the braai and watching a bit of sport. No win for a racehorse, nice win for United, big win for South Africa in the rugby. Eben Etzebeth remains a complete twat.
(Was there ever any doubt?)
But despite those positives, it does seem like the universe was trying to send me a message with the stuff that was appearing on my phone this morning.
Stuff like:
Sunglasses, phone, wallet, car key…. will to live?
It’s not an unreasonable suggestion.
And then there was this:
Oh, often.
Usually in the traffic or when I meet an oven door unexpectedly, but I don’t like to limit myself.
Happy to give it go anywhere really.
But, as I say, today really didn’t turn out to be one of those days.
Which was nice.
Indeed:
The mantra “If you never try, you will never know” captures the spirit of exploration, growth, and fulfilment. It encourages us to “break free from the shackles of fear”, step into the unknown, and embrace the opportunities that await.
Wow. They make it sound so adventurous, don’t they?
And yes, all of what you read there is absolutely correct, of course.
But it’s also a little disingenuous, because there’s a whole other side to it that isn’t mentioned above.
Take for example my day today. I did a lot of mundane stuff which I have done many times before, and so to which the mantra in the title doesn’t apply.
I’ve already tried it – previously and often – and I am fully aware of the implications and experiences thereof.
One of my jobs was cleaning the oven (I told you it was mundane), and the issue with cleaning the oven is the lingering smell of oven cleaner. And so I left the oven door open and the fan on to air the oven out.
I’ve done that before as well.
I went walking barefoot into the kitchen maybe an hour later (still nothing new), just as a bird flew across the back windows. Probably just a Cape Turtle Dove, but in the bright sunshine outside, the sudden movement really caught my eye.
What I hadn’t previously tried was going around the right hand corner, while looking over to the left, and allowing my right lateral cuneiform bone to come into sudden and somewhat forceful contact with the glass and metal corner of the oven door – folded down handily at lateral cuneiform bone height.
Sweet baby Jesus.
It was like a scene from Tom and Jerry, but with fewer domestic mammals. There were stars and bluebirds circling around my head as my involuntary nervous system hastily adjusted blood flow and balance mechanisms to keep me from falling over.
I – probably wisely – decided to pre-empt any fainting spell as the tunnel vision closed in and, after a controlled descent – had a little sit down on the kitchen floor and tried not to vomit.
Look. This was much earlier in the afternoon. I’m ok now. I mean, my foot is pretty purple, I can’t really walk and I’m in a decent amount of pain, but it seems that I actually survived that acute phase of injury and I have high hopes that I’ll be fine in a few weeks.
But would I advise you to “break free from the shackles of fear”, and smash your right foot into an oven door?
No. No, I would not.
I have tried that so that you will never have to know.
Thank me later.
This is equal parts dull and mesmerising. It’s a guy rolling a tyre down a hill, which is ostensibly very boring, but weirdly, you get drawn into the video and you want to travel with the tyre, down the mountain. Where will it go? Who will it meet? Will it survive?
Amazing scenery, great drone work, appropriate music, and a story that ends all too abruptly.
So thank goodness I’m writing this down.
Regular readers – yeah, plural because I’m an optimist – might recall that on Monday, I was wondering whether to stay up late for the football.
I decided to be sensible and not to. But then circumstances took over anyway. Because sadly, our son’s car was broken into while he was dodgeballing, and stuff – a lot of stuff – was stolen. Parked outside, in a private car park, under a very bright floodlight and behind security-manned barriers and with only one way onto (and off) the site, 50 whole metres of direct sight from the security booth.
His was one of about ten cars that got done.
So those two security guys are at best, utterly useless, and at worst, actually just complicit. As a TikkiTokker would say: “Let me know what you think in the comments”.
As is the way with these things, we’re not sure exactly when it happened. But for police and insurance purposes, we’re saying about 8pm.
Reporting it all to the police took quite a while, and then there was the drive home, and so actually, I was still wandering about at half past midnight, and yes, I was absolutely right, my body did not appreciate the 6am wake up call in the morning.
Not one bit.
Yesterday was all about paperwork and glass vacuuming. But can I just shout out our insurance?
Because the working day begins at 8:30am.
The claim form arrived at 8:50am and we had Glassfit in touch with us before 9am*.
I submitted the claim form yesterday afternoon, the claim was settled by close of business yesterday and the money was paid into our account at 10:30am today. That’s only 38½ hours from the incident. And only 26 hours since we told them about the incident.
Bloody hell.
Here in SA, we – quite rightly – complain about the poor service we get (and there’s plenty of it to choose from), but it’s only right that we praise the good service as well. And this is more than good. It’s unbelievable. (But it is also true.)
So. Despite all the ads you see for that green and purple company, can I recommend that if you are looking for a decent insurer, then maybe you should give RBS a go? If you want, you can tell them that I sent you, but I doubt that it’ll make any difference either way.
Absolutely mindblowing stuff.
.
* There’s no window glass in stock in Cape Town, so we have to wait until Friday or Monday before it can be fitted, depending on transport, but I don’t think that I can blame anyone in particular for that.