Camp stats

Some household statistics while having a 10-year old son who is away at school camp (and an 8-year old daughter who isn’t).

  • Overall Nutella consumption: down 93%
  • Repeated instructions required: down 44% 
  • Amount of readily available milk and bread in house: up 76%
  • Early morning hugs for Dad: down 50%
  • Available charging points for electronic devices: up 134%
  • Parental checking of Facebook (for school camp updates): up 240%
  • Polite laughter at my crap jokes: down 81%
  • Last-minute recollection as we’re heading out of the door for the school run that we don’t have the most ever so very important thing which is needed for class first thing this morning, and which we had previously been assured was placed safely in school bag the previous evening: down 100% (so far, at least)
  • Requests to go and fly the Mavic: down 96%
  • Anticipation of some amazing stories upon his return tomorrow: up 80%

In the meantime, the somewhat confused and mildly depressed beagle will continue to fruitlessly search the house for him.

What I’m not doing…

Sleeping. I’m not sleeping.
That could actually be the root cause of all the other things I’m not doing. Although maybe there are causes for that as well – it’s been hot and we have a beagle (so heat and stress) – so lack of sleep might not be the root cause in the truest sense of the phrase.

But when you’re not sleeping well, a lot of other stuff starts to slip as well.

For example: I can’t remember the last time I picked up my camera.  And that’s disappointing. I didn’t get a lot of photography done over the summer break, but I thought I’d make some plans in the New Year. The New Year isn’t very New anymore, and I actually haven’t done anything.

And then the drone. The drone is slightly more problematic, in that the infernal South Easter is being regularly infernal once again.
Time enough, sure, but there it sits there on my desk, taunting me. I look at the Mavic Facebook groups and I look at the often incredible videography and photography on there and I want to do it. Even though I’m still learning how to fly, I am getting to that point now where I can begin to concentrate on the more creative side. I need to have that ready for our next visit to Agulhas, but I need some calm weather to get in a bit more practice. It’s not happening.

And the sleep comes into that again because instead of using the light early morning winds this weekend, I decided to try and get another hour or two in bed, and missed out. Idiot. Tired idiot, but idiot, nevertheless.

Football. That’s also an issue. Anything from the UK is on late at night. 10pm kick offs mean that you’re going to be watching til (almost) midnight. And then you’re up at Foolish o’clock because the kids need to get to school. Bring on BST (still 2 months away).

At the moment, I’m not quite sure how to break this cycle of no sleep and constant tiredness and lethargy and getting nothing done.
Just know that I am aware of it, and I’m working on it.

Starting tomorrow.


Sometimes, your phone battery is down to 19% (because of a million football whatsapps) and you’re ready for bed, even though it’s only half past eight (because there was a kid’s “sleep”over here last night).

And then you remember that you have blogging commitments. Better sort that out before one or other energy source expires then.

’tis done. And so am I.

About last night

It was half past ten yesterday evening when I got in. Where had I been out to until that ungodly hour? Picking up my son from a birthday party. No big issue with that – teenagers will be teenagers. Except that my boy is 10 years old. Please note that I’m observing and commenting here rather than complaining. And it’s not even something that I would have brought up if it were not for the fact that when we got home, my 8-year-old daughter was still out at the theatre in town.

Kids these days. They grow up so quickly don’t they?

I don’t think things happened like this when I was 8. Or 10.

Things like this did happen when I was a teenager, obviously, and I was thinking that last night’s “dirty stop out/dad’s taxi” antics would make for good training for those upcoming years.
But then, if they’re already partying up a late night storm at 8 and 10 years old, then what exactly will my kids’ teenage years bring? And then, taking the wholly unscientific extrapolation one step further, the student years.

Oh my goodness, I think I need to go and have a sit down.

Nearly ready

Sure, I’m a non-believer, but any excuse for a party, and the fact that it’s going to be 30ºC here tomorrow and there’s a swimming pool and some cold beer seems like a good enough excuse for me. Whatever the religious reasons behind Christmas, we see it as a time to get together with family and friends, eat some good food and reward the kids (and ourselves where possible) for surviving another year. The car got rewarded with R5100’s worth of new shoes this morning. My wallet is feeling decidedly unrewarded.

The beagle is roasting on an open fire and Jack Frost has just been in touch to say that he’s never seen Cape Town, but he might just turn up (he won’t – unreliable bugger). The Carols from Kings CD is prepped in the living room and the last gift was bought at an alarming 11:31am today. Beers are on hold until the last family member has been picked up from the Deep(ish) South, but that’s no big deal. Plenty of time for catch up.

I have lots of writing deadlines to meet, none of which I am going to manage to fulfill, and a million YouTube videos to look at. My drone didn’t make it in time for Christmas, which is sad, but much like the beers, plenty of time for catch up.

Yesterday’s rain would normally have been most welcome, but the drive home was testing and stressful. Mrs 6000’s Whatsapp images from the start and (almost) the end of the journey tell the story.

And then we had shedloads of holiday washing to do and no means of getting it dry. Disaster.
Still – it’s done and now we have green grass for a few days, so I’m happy enough.

I’m now off to hoover the beagle as part of the sprucing up of the house ahead of the potential arrival of this evening’s red-coated intruder.

Bye for now.