Not drinking, but it always makes sense to be prepared

I’m trying to cut back on fun unhealthier things in life at the moment as the long road to post-Covid fitness continues. One of those things is beer, because it’s hard enough work to get the calories, inches and kilos off without the additional challenge of beer exacerbating those numbers.

But I might want to go back to beer (after all, who wouldn’t?) at any given time, and so I’ll just remind you all of this post. Because nothing in this world comes for free and increasingly, lots of stuff in this world costs a lot more than it used to:

So please forgive me for earning a bit of pocket money when I can.

Just a day

I nearly didn’t get to blog today. One of those days when it feels like you’ve done nothing, but equally like you’ve not stopped all day. And then suddenly, it’s dark and you wonder, through a Black Label induced haze, where all the time has gone. 

In retrospect, maybe it was something to do with the genie in the brown bottle. 

Sitting in front of a roaring fire (or as near as we can get with damp wood) with a glass of red wine, it actually doesn’t seem to have been a bad day at all.  

Just unfeasibly short. 

Internet has got me on EDGE (literally), so if you want photos, go to my Instagram.


Dafternoon (noun): The period immediately before an early evening braai during which you engage in foolish behaviour, play football in ridiculous heat, come home and drink far too much Black Label and chat with friends under the trees.

It was a great day. The football was fun, the beer was cold and the company was, as ever, entertaining.

Given the physical demands of today, tomorrow morning will almost certainly bring a world of pain. But it was worth it.


All weddings should come with [several] Carling Black Labels, some Moer Coffee and a scary looking shooter or eight. It makes you lose your pre-conceptions and langarm to Kurt Darren.

Wow – I said that like it was a good thing. Meh – it was fun evening: good food, good company, crap music.

After yesterday’s near miss¬†when it came to getting up the West Coast, today’s return journey was rather unexciting, tinged with heat, more heat, a lack of sleep, some heat and a mild hangover.

Passing Koeberg

Mrs 6k drove and I looked out of the window at the scenery passing by at *cough* 120kph. This grey one sums up how I’m feeling this evening – distinctly lacking colour.

The bread is made, the uniforms are ironed and it’s back to school for our two tomorrow. Back to some sort of normality here too – but right now, I need my bed.