Feeling a bit better today. Still a bit short on energy, but I guess I didn’t eat anything for 36 hours, so that’s to be expected.
I’m catching up with all the stuff I missed yesterday: we’ve already been down onto the beach and cleaned out the rockpool (very limited numbers of anything exciting considering the size of the tide).
There’s more to do too, so please accept this quota photo of the beagle atop the Franschhoek Pass on our way down here.
Not bad for a phone photo of an animal that hates having its photo taken. (B)eagle-eyed viewers may spot some photoshopping because the lead attached to the dog really detracted from the overall image. But then, if the lead hadn’t have been there, the lack of dog would have been an equally large problem.
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
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.
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.