Well, this looks nice

Away this week, as was mentioned here.

But assuming my flight actually lands, I’m not quite sure how much fun the outside bit of the work I’ll be doing up there will be. Why?

Well…

That’s rather warm. I’m especially looking forward to Wednesday, obviously.

On a more serious note, these are shade temperatures. It’ll obviously be warmer in the sun. And there clearly will be sun. I’m wondering how well my equipment (careful now) will cope in this sort of heat. And also its operator, obviously.

Reminder to self: pack sunblock. And air con.

Warm in Australia

Cold and wet today in Cape Town, but exceptionally warm just around the Southern Hemisphere corner in Australia:

265°C might seem rather hot to most of us, but this is Australia, where if the wildlife isn’t doing its best to kill you, then the climate apparently is.

The difference between that high and the low of 17 probably means you should wear layers for a more comfortable experience.

Thanks Del

Day 667 – Merciful release

My office is hidden in the bottom corner of the house, protected from the sunshine by several trees and several other bits of building.
In winter, it can get pretty cool in here, given that it doesn’t see any sun at all. In summer – most especially on days like today – it offers a merciful release from the heat. I was up early to take the boy to A Thing and it was 27oC at 7:15 this morning. It’s clearly going to be a scorcher, as promised.

I have thus retreated to my office, where I have placed the beagle’s bed, so that it too may enjoy a little respite from the ridiculousness outside.

There is a TV in here for the footy later, and there is – of course – my giant beanbag for comfort. No fridge, but the bar is just there [points yonder], and that holds the promise of plenty (or more) cold beers.

I’m settled for the day.

Stay safe, stay hydrated.

Day 294 – The house strikes back

Episode V of the Star Wars trilogy.

Wait…

No, this concerns the house from which we are moving in the near future (Covid-willing). It’s striking back – hence the title of this post.

I’m not for one moment suggesting that the house is a sentient thing, is aware that we are moving out, and – a bit pissed off about the whole situation – is taking some sort of preemptive revenge*, but at the same time, I actually am.

Because that’s pretty much exactly what is happening.

First off there’s the mandatory inspections for electric fence, plumbing, beetles, electrics and gas. This is like an MOT or a Roadworthy for your house, done each time you move, and it’s there to make sure that the new residents aren’t moving in to a death trap, even if you’ve been living in one.

And apparently, we have.

Because regulations have changed (a lot!) during our long stay here (almost 16 years), because some builders clearly took some shortcuts when working on our place (lesson learned), and because wiring deteriorates, our house doesn’t comply in a number of ways, all of which require remediation.

Costly.

On the plus side, I completely recognise the need for this and we’re also going to be moving into a house which has also been inspected and made safe.

But that’s (expensive, but) standard stuff. It’s the little niggles that the house has thrown up since it discovered that we were leaving it that are causing us more problems. A jammed outside door, a gas hob plate that’s suddenly not working (and even after being fixed twice, still insists on not working) and a lawn that is defying the fertilisers and the watering and just being yellow. Oh, and then the hosepipe just burst on me**, which wasn’t actually that bad since it’s stupid degrees Celsius out there today, but still – you get my point, right?

We have another few weeks to get through here before the new house – irritated that we were instrumental in taking away its previous and much-beloved owners – takes on the mantle.

Woohoo.

 

* is this a thing? wouldn’t it just be “venge”?
** no, I wasn’t watering during the day. conciliate your breasts.

Just how hot is it?

It’s warm, certainly. A quick peek at the mercury digital thermometer on my return from the local Pick and Pay suggested somewhere around 27ºC in the shade. There’s a slight breeze though, and that certainly makes it bearable – even rather pleasant, in fact. Or so I thought.

There was a larger, middle-aged lady in the supermarket just now who was clearly feeling the heat a little more than I was though. But still, is it really hot enough that you take a large chunk of (yes, thankfully wrapped, but still…) cheese out of the refrigerator unit, place it against your glowing forehead, rub it down the sides of your neck, then move it slowly across the top of your sweaty breasts inside your blouse…

AND THEN PUT IT BACK IN THE FRIDGE FOR SOMEONE ELSE TO BUY? 

I very nearly blew chow.

Absolutely shameless. And absolutely disgusting. I passed comment and she just shrugged. And then, as I was leaving, I told the manager what I had just witnessed and left him to deal with it.