It’s Sunday evening

It’s been a busy day following last night’s sleepover (not me). Horse riding (not me), gym (me), breakfast out (not me) and then a hike at Silvermine (also not me).

While it might not seem like I did a lot, I did provide lifts to and from most of the above.

And suddenly Monday is looming. How close? Well, I have switched the football over from England to Spain: the sporting equivalent of the Carte Blanche theme music for telling you that your weekend is over.

I’m having a quick glass of red wine before I head to bed. Numerous things going in for repair this week. More of that as they happen.

Right now, though, I’m going to doze off in front of the fire like an old man.

Day 339 – Back home

Back home to a roasting Cape Town, touching the high 30s, after a great walk on the beach Darn Sarf this morning.

Lobbed some sausages on the braai for dinner and wired up some external internet. As you do.

Now, a cold beer and some football.

It’s been a good weekend.

Can I be bothered to watch Ramaphosa’s address? Probably not.

It’s happened again

Now. Let me get this straight.

The week is for working, the weekend is for chilling and relaxing.
If I remember correctly, the above statement paraphrases Henry Ford.

Yes, the car guy.

It isn’t working for me right now, Henry. I mean, I’m getting the first bit ok – that’s going really well.
But by the end of my weekends… I need… a weekend.

It’s been fun, it’s been busy.

I’m exhausted.
I’m going to bed.

Lots done

After a weekend which wasn’t even supposed to be spent at home in Cape Town, I find myself completely drained. I’ve done about a million jobs that I didn’t even know needed doing, but which – with hindsight – I’m actually glad I got out of the way.

There are a big couple of weeks ahead at work before our Europe trip, and I’ve been on the go all day, so I’m going to guide Panama a little closer to World Cup glory on the Playstation, rather than blogging this evening.

If that’s ok with you, that is?*

More – including news of Panama’s latest triumphs – tomorrow.



*  or even if it’s not, to be honest.