We’re lucky enough each to have our own methods of attaching to the internet here at Chez 6000, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t stray into each other’s territory every now and again.
I guess that’s what must have happened today, because I came back to my laptop this morning to find someone had been using it to write stuff. Both of the kids denied it was them, which isn’t great because it clearly was one or other of them (I guess they’re just a bit embarrassed because it’s “uncool”), but creativity – especially during the school holidays – is always to be applauded.
Anyway, one of them has written a poem called The Biscuit Man Is Gone – I’m not quite sure what it’s about, but I’m going to share it here anyway.
The Biscuit Man Is Gone
The Biscuit Man Is Gone.
I went to where He was, but found the
I cried for Him, but there was
I searched all of the rooms, but He is
The Biscuit Man Is Gone, and I am
Interesting cadence, and an almost religious slant to it.
Presumably ‘The Biscuit Man’ is any given deity and the writer is struggling to keep faith in the absence of evidence, answers or support.
Wow. That’s quite deep. My kids are only 12 and 10. I’m impressed.
Right. Anyway. I must get going: lots to do today, starting with getting all this dog hair off my desk chair. Weird.
The last week of any school term is always fairly hectic. The last week of the last term is something way beyond that. Exam results coming in left, right and centre, a prizegiving here or there, the inevitable Christmas concert, a charity civvies day, an activity day, a class party and a last-minute test of parental organisation by giving each child a different finishing time at school on each day.
I nearly left one at school today. Oops.
Is it just me, or are things really more stressful this time around than in previous years? I feel like we never got chance to “reset” our lives going into 2018 and we’re suffering the consequences now.
It’s all rather exhausting – a fact demonstrated by the beagle here:
Actually, this was taken after yesterday’s SPCA Wiggle Waggle Walkathon. It might only have been 4km, but when you’ve got four legs to power instead of two and you’re wearing a fur coat, it can be quite tough.
However, this will likely be my position (ok, not necessarily under the trampoline, but still…) come the end of the week.
Once again, I am court-side at the trampoline park. There’s no blaring music though, because the electricity has just gone down. This was fully expected, but the lady sitting next to me has gone to complain anyway, as if the guys here can do anything about the failed state-owned enterprise which supplies (or doesn’t supply) the power here.
No lights here either then, but there’s enough sunlight filtering through the translucent windows to make the Dodgeball Academy session slightly more difficult and quite a bit more dangerous.
The coffee machine isn’t working, of course.
I may not survive.
I refuse to succumb to the temptation to use the phrase “Good News / Bad News”. Let’s be positive here. There’s only Good News and Less Good News. The Good News is really rather good, and the Less Good News, while being less good, really isn’t that Bad. In addition, there’s a good deal of Good News, and much less Less Good News today.
Which is good.
Good News 1: It appears that The Boy Wonder has done really rather well in his end-of-year school exams.
Good News 2: His sister made it onto the high achievers list for the Western Cape for her Trinity Singing exam. Hashtag VoiceOfAnAngle.
Good News 3: I spent the morning wandering around Kirstenbeagle Gardens with my dad. Loads of chat, loads of birds, loads of plants. And some photos using my new ND filters, too. More of that later.
Less Good News 1: I bought cheap shaving foam and it makes my face smell like a recently cleaned shopping mall restroom.
See? Not Bad at all!
This time of year is always a little crazy. The end of the school year, prizegivings, concerts, visitors, shopping, general chaos.
It seems that 2018 will be no different. I was literally knee deep in the garden this afternoon, trying to redo the lights out there. Three blown fuses, two exploded floodlights and one electric shock later, I worked out where I had gone horribly wrong, righted it and all is now well.
Now all I need is some darkness to properly test them. And to plunge the rest of the household into if things haven’t gone quite right.
Yesterday’s post was received rather better than I expected. In fact, I only had one shocked comment about the general tone and language that was used. And that was Mrs 6000. She should know better.
As instructed, I re-read what I had written and I stand by it.
Go big or go home.
But if you do go home, make sure you have a torch at the ready.