It’s all over

It’s obvious that the holiday season is coming to an end, as the malls are filled with dishevelled whities wearing poorly-ironed clothes, desperate for the return of Mabel, their domestic, who spent the festive period back with her family in the Eastern Cape. They’re even willing to overlook the embarrassment of that phone call they made two weeks into her leave, to ask her where the iron is kept. And the one half an hour after that to ask how it works. Two scorched t-shirts and a burnt sock later, they gave up.
They ran out of clean plates just after Christmas and Mr Delivery is getting expensive. The carpets are ankle deep in beach sand and dirt.
Never in the field of human cleaning was so much owed by so many to so few.

Not so here, of course. I was trained in the art of domestic warfare back in the UK and I’ve been putting my skills to the fore. Having a happy milk-recycling unit which happily recycles milk all over the furniture, carpets and whatever she and you are wearing has driven this domiciliary activity. While others were still trawling the depths of their wardrobes until the 27th, I developed an acute shortage of trouser garments after just two days of family “quality time”, thanks to my little lactose-regurgitation factory, which is instantly forgiven as soon as it smiles through the milky residue. Damn you, Mother Nature.

As Christmasses go, it was pretty laid back. Too hot to be hectic. And the kids always make that festive period a bit special. Back in my childhood days, the time between the 25th and New Year was always a bit empty: the excitement of Christmas over, but everything held in limbo until the end of the year. This time around, in order to avoid that boredom, I contracted viral meningitis and lay hurting in bed for three days. As a microbiologist, I do actually find it interesting to experience the diseases and illnesses that I used to diagnose on a daily basis, but I can put this one alongside Salmonella gastroenteritis and malaria in the category labelled Never Again, Please.  Gonorrhea was over-rated too, if I’m honest. Anyway, I’m happy to say that my meninges are much improved and it’s had absolutely no effect on my brain function. Pink Panther. St Bernard. Picture frame.  

And now, to complete the holiday period, we have been invaded by bees. I have removed around 50 of them from the house this morning alone, using a combination of insecticide spray, A4 paper, a tea towel and the cunning ploy of opening windows. I have no idea what sort of bees they are. In the UK, it’s easy enough: bumble (Bombus terrestis) or honey (Apis mellifera), and you can kill them by using your cell phone. Here, it’s more complicated and there’s always the danger of the Africanized Killer Bee (Apis mellifera scutellata), which can, like, kill you and stuff. Add to that the worrying oversight that the otherwise superb SE X1 doesn’t seem to have a bee killing function and the warning signs are there for all to see. 
They’ve moved into our roof and they’re staying put. Until the bee-killer comes this evening with his bee-killing stuff and kills them, that is. Sorry, my little band of environmentally-inclined readers, but they are going to die a slow, horrible, painful death. Possibly, anyway. I have absolutely no idea what methods he is going to employ. Just that he’s going to employ them this evening. On the bees. In our roof.
You have less than 6 hours to save them and I’m not telling you where I live.

11 thoughts on “It’s all over

  1. This is interesting. Meningitus, bees…
    I’m thinking the universe decided that you were way too lucky in getting that X1 and things needed to be balanced out a bit.
    That’s if you believe in that nonsense.

    Glad you’re up and about…even with the bees.

    Goblin´s last blog post was: Who woulda thunk it. (Note: 6000 miles… is not responsible for the content of external internet sites)

  2. Oh dear oh dear. Too much funniness. Except for the meningitis, freaking hell. Did you diagnose yourself?

    I love British bees, they are so slow and drunken in comparison to South African ones, you really have to try hard to get stung by one.

  3. Goblin > I’m beginning to believe in that nonsense.

    Actually….? Nah!

    Po > No, diagnosed by a genuine doctor with boobs. But that’s another story.
    Not long til the bee man comes now…

  4. Ouch! I worked for a meningitis charity here in the UK for 5 years, so I know everything there is to know about meningitis too. Good job it was only viral (although there is nothing nice about suffering from it, and some people feel the after-effects for months and months). In fact, if you were living in not-to-sunny UK, both your sproglets would have to receive a Men-C vaccine. Just a pity it’s the B strain that kills, eh?

    I’ll buzz off now and leave you to the bee-man. Good luck!!

    Helga Hansen´s last blog post was: (Note: 6000 miles… is not responsible for the content of external internet sites)

  5. Save those bees – move them somewhere else – like the Arctic perhaps?

    And meningitis – that sure is serious!

    Sounds like a cheery Christmas all round really! ,-)

    Lady Fi´s last blog post was: Before you go to the sales… (Note: 6000 miles… is not responsible for the content of external internet sites)

  6. Helga > Well, Men-C does kill some people every year, so it’s worth vaccinating against. And if we (scientists) could develop a Men-B vaccine, we would.

    Lady Fi > My bees are dead. Gone. They are buzzing no more.

  7. I’m with you – the bees must go! But i happen to be evil like that. :p

    Typ0´s last blog post was: The Last Train (Note: 6000 miles… is not responsible for the content of external internet sites)

  8. you are a genius! I almost hit the floor laughing. Much to the disgust of the high classes around me..

    but I have to admit, I have been suffering some domestic cleaning issues again recently.

    dash´s last blog post was: Distant Closeness (Note: 6000 miles… is not responsible for the content of external internet sites)

  9. Typ0 > Not evil. Just not great things to have around near my small children.
    Ok. Maybe a bit evil.

    dash > Why thank you. Just real life though – you know it happens.

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