Hours of TV

I’ve been watching football all afternoon and it’s been lovely*.

I do recognise that it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, though.

But then, some people beagles have weird taste.

 

* Sheffield United 1-0 QPR

Packed beach

By the third of January, you’d expect the crowds of visitors to start receding. We’ve had the festivities of Christmas and the excitement of New Year and there’s real life waiting just around the corner.

But no. Yesterday afternoon, the local car park was as full as I have ever seen it, with cars from Cape Town, Swellendam, the Free State and Limpopo. The reason, I suspect, was the fresh southeaster which had stirred up a sandy gunk, thus:

This “ginger beer water”, I have been told, makes for excellent fishing, and so a billion fishermen had descended onto what I quite reasonably call “my beach”. The rocks were suddenly full of Klipdrift and swearing, discarded tackle and raucous laughter.

I never saw these people when I was out there in the driving rain of two days ago winter.

Also out in full force were the SANParks officials, clipboards in hand, lanyards fluttering in the wind, checking permits and observing catch size. (Although for all the promise, I never saw a single fish being landed.)
It’s weird that the guys in green are never there when the perlemoen poachers are at work (now there’s a group that doesn’t care about the weather), but I guess they can’t be everywhere at once.

The wind is forecast to drop today, and so all the fishermen will likely disappear too, leaving the beach for just me and the beagle, as it should be.

The Biscuit Man Is Gone

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
Gate closed.
I cried for Him, but there was
No sign.
I searched all of the rooms, but He is
Not there.
The Biscuit Man Is Gone, and I am
So sad.

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

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.

Beagle watch

Today, I learned that there is a security company in Gauteng called Beagle Watch. I have a number of issues with this.

To the uitlanders, allow me to explain. Here in SA, many people have their house alarms connected to an armed response security company. That means that when your alarm goes off – most likely because you forgot to switch it off before letting the dog out – a friendly man with a gun will show up at your door in case you’re in trouble. I’ve actually yet to hear a story of anyone actually being saved by the friendly man with a gun, but perception is everything and if it helps you sleep more soundly at night to pay a man with a gun to be on-call, then that’s great.

There are all the usual suspects (pun intended) on the scene: ADT, Princeton, Fidelity, Chubb. And then there are the regional services as well. They claim to understand the local crime problems better than the bigger, less personal entities. One of these local offerings is Beagle Watch in Randburg:

Response Time

The best in class response times! No matter what the emergency, Beagle Watch will be there first!

A Dedicated Team

Proactive security is our focus – we are the only company dedicated to the prevention of crime in your area through continuous, 24 hour, high visibility patrols.

Continuous and 24 hour. Colour me impressed.

But when you choose an animal to name your security company after, you want one that’s ever-vigilant, alert, attentive, powerful and quick to react.

I have a beagle. It’s really none of those things.

And so the name really doesn’t instill any sense of confidence in me. I’m only warning them about this after the well-documented collapse of Sloth Security in Constantia back in 2013.

The badge is also a problem:

It’s like they got an 8-year-old to draw a beagle. Three beagles.

Beagles do have moments where their senses are piqued and they’re ready for action. These moments usually relate to seeing a squirrel in the park and generally only last for 3 or 4 seconds. But a key feature of a momentarily alert beagle is the elevated tail. This is an evolutionary hangover from when they used to be powered by electricity, much like dodgem cars. Also, they always face left when they are ready to go. See?

Squirrel-spotting beagle

A beagle with a tail as depicted in the Beagle Watch logo is depressed, tired or depressed and tired and is certainly not going to offer any resistance to local criminals.

Also, you’d never get three to line up in such an orderly fashion. At least one would already be asleep or foraging for food.

My suggestion to Beagle Watch (and I will be forwarding them a link to this post so that they realise their error in nomenclature), is that they change the name of the business, soonest. And it doesn’t have to be a train smash of process. A simple, carefully applied daub of black paint on each of their vehicles turns Beagle Watch into bEagle Watch: the genus Aquila possessing all of the qualities one looks for in a neighbourhood security company. And they also have an aggressive beak and talons, filling the crims with a sense of fear and dread. Everything that a beagle doesn’t.

Mark my words: you can watch the crime rate in Randburg drop like the proverbial stone.

I’m frankly amazed that no-one has come up with this idea before.