The great thing about quota photos…

…is that it’s just about impossible for anything to be misinterpreted or misconstrued. This in turn means that no-one gets offended, no names get called and no allegations are levelled. This in turn means that everyone is happy. And that is good.

I don’t usually play around with my photos on the computer “post processing”. As far as I’m concerned, once they’re taken, they’re taken: I don’t have the software, the time or the inclination to mess around with them. That’s something else to learn and I haven’t even learnt how to take photographs yet.

However, I just poked this one of Alex’s Winnie the Pooh sprinkler a bit and I quite like the results.
I think that this is one of those photographs that is best viewed large and you can do that here.

There now. That wasn’t so controversial, now was it?

It never rains…

That’s a complete lie. It rained all day today and it also rained a bit yesterday, even though the sun was shining at the same time.
Apparently, in the UK this is known as a “sunshower”, although I’ve never heard that expression. Still, I only lived there for 30-odd years.
In Cape Town, where the weather is just plain weird, this sort of thing happens far more often. It happened yesterday and I photographised it.

I have been told that the phenomenon is known as a “Monkey’s Wedding”. However, I have never dared use that phrase, just in case it was one of those Old Skool racist things that were “perfectly acceptable” to use “back in the day”, but that one – quite rightly – can’t say now.

However, having done a bit of research (ie.I googled it), I have discovered that the phrase comes, in fact, from the isiZulu umshado wezinkawu , meaning (perhaps unsurprisingly) “A wedding for monkeys”. There is no further explanation as to why this is the case. However, it would seem that I am safely able to use the phrase from now on without fear of prosecution.

There’s also an Afrikaans version, which Wikipedia tells me is jakkelstrou or “Jackal’s Wedding”.
This, it seems comes from the dainty little rhyming couplet:

Jakkals trou met wolf se vrou,
As dit reen en die son skyn flou.

Which actually makes perfect sense, because I did notice that there was a jackal in the back garden who seemed intent on marrying the wolf’s wife while the rain fell and the sun shone faintly. With hindsight, that probably would have made a more interesting photo than the one above.

I’ll try to remember that for next time it happens. Sorry.

Waiting for Mum

Kids go through stages with regard to their relationship with their parents. Sometimes you can see obvious reasons why this might be; for example, when K-pu was born and had to spend a lot of time with Mum (because she’s the one with the boobs), Alex became firmly (often rather too firmly) attached to me. His rampant favouritism, caused by obvious and understandable insecurity, has worn off now though and we generally gauge who is flavour of the moment by his requests for bedtime story readers (Mum/Dad/Neither).

Perhaps it’s because she’s female (and therefore fussy), but K-pu has a very strict hierarchical list of favourites. I guess I should be flattered to be in second place and I have to remember that when Mum walks in and K-pu suddenly shows a complete lack of interest in me, it’s only the same as she does to other people below second place when she sees me.
(It’s still quite hurtful though).

This picture was taken while we were away last weekend. Mum had popped up the road to pick up the boy from the Kid’s Club and K-pu – outraged to have been left with only her dad for company – went and planted herself firmly by the front door and sulked until her mother returned.

That’s (another) one for her 21st birthday, then.

This must be an old map…

I can’t come on here and attribute this quote to the individual who actually made it, for reasons of personal safety. However, I do feel that it deserves sharing. So here I am, sharing it. 

It was while we were viewing a map of South Africa, that my companion remarked:

SA

“This must be an old map: it’s still got Swaziland on it.”

She was right though. It had.

Which is a good thing for all our Swazi friends out there (a whole 14 of whom have visited this blog in the last 12 months).

Name that bird

We were down at the Waterfront today, terrorising sealife in the aquarium, watching eco-friendly puppet shows and drinking chocolate milkshakes.
While I was enjoying a coffee at the pub [shurely shome mistake?], I spotted this little fellow, who later tried to defaecate on me. Despite consulting Sinclair, Hockey and Tarboton’s Birds of Southern Africa (which, after all, is where I are finding myself today), I have no idea what sort of bird this is – anyone able to accurately ID it for me, please?

newbird

As there is nothing to relate the size to, I can tell you that it was about… this big. And it was only while reviewing the day’s photographs this evening that I noticed that it was ringed. I’m pretty sure that makes no difference to what species it is, though.

Answers on a postcard, please.
Or just leave a comment.