You need a lot of documentation to see Ed Sheeran

Going to see Ed Sheeran at one of his upcoming concerts in Johannesbeagle or Cape Town?

Think you can turn up with just a ticket and walk right in?

Think again.

There are several (or more) documents that you might need to provide on the night if you’re going to be allowed in to see and hear the ginger crooner. I found this out quite by chance – Big Concerts hasn’t yet been in touch to tell me about it. That’s why I’m sharing it with you.
Because I bought tickets for Mrs 6000 and The Scoop and they wouldn’t have got in if I hadn’t seen this page, featuring this information:

There’s a similar one for Joburg too.

And yes, it’ll be a mess and they’ll end up not checking everyone’s documents and people will complain that they brought them along for nothing. And yes, some people who do get checked will not have the documentation and there will be some shouting and a fight.

It’s even a bit vague about what you actually need to bring, and given that this is an event in South Africa, so the security probably won’t have been suitably briefed anyway, I’d bring everything on the list. And lots of other things too.
Smile nicely, be polite throughout, baffle with bullshit, gain entry.
Standard practice.

As usual, I would wholeheartedly advise parking in the P1 parking at the CTICC for a quick getaway once you’ve shuttled (free) into town from the stadium.

Please share this information so no-one gets locked out. Ed might not be your cup of tea (he’s certainly not mine), but imagine missing a concert you had bought tickets for, simply because you didn’t have a printed A4 PDF with someone’s name on it. Madness.

Little Orchard Nursery

or: Hidden Gems of the Southern Suburbs (No. 1 in a series of n).
And: another post in the 6000 Recommends category.

Another gardening-related post? Two in week? What’s going on?

But yes. Let’s not beat around the bush (no pun intended) here. You want plants or garden stuff and you’re in the Southern Suburbs, you go to the yellow and green S place. But if you’re going to do that, you’re also going to get ripped off. So why not rather support a small, family business which gives great service and charges fair prices?

No, this isn’t a sponsored post.

I heard about the Little Orchard Nursery via the grapevine (no pun intended) and today, needing some garden stuff, I gave it a go. Diagonally opposite Bridge Cycles off De Waal Road in Diep River (map), it’s tucked away just where the railway bridge starts to rise and you could be excused for missing it as you fly by (at 59kph). But you shouldn’t do that.

Pop in and find a small cafe, a kids’ play area, and plenty of healthy looking plants. I didn’t need much, but I got everything I wanted, it cost me much less than it would have done at you know where, and I was served with a smile and a chat.

So, next time you’re about to do a bit of gardening, rather head to the Little Orchard instead of you know where.

Message ends.

Locust housing

…And The Struggle Of Suburban Garden Wildlife Identification (but that wouldn’t fit in the title box).

This thing was in our garden last night. Probably about 90mm in length, sitting first of all on a one of the chairs that we never use, and then hopping/jumping/flying onto some nearby agapanthusesagapanthaeagapanthasueses… plants.

You can see more of it here.

I’m not sure what sort of grasshopper or locust it is, and the information out on the internet about this sort of thing is limited, fragmented and altogether sketchy.  I put it on iSpot, and someone (apparently well-respected and versed in invertebrate identification) suggested it might be a Acanthacris ruficornis subsp. ruficornis, and who am I to disagree?

Acanthacris ruficornis subsp. ruficornis is the Garden Locust, and since this was a locust and it was found in our garden, I’m very willing to take this as a likely ID.

And then this morning, while checking on my March Lily (more of this at a later date) (in March, obvs), a new bird in the back garden (new to me, at least). Too small to be hunting Acanthacris ruficornis subsp. ruficornis, so I don’t think that’s what brought it here, but because I have no idea what sort of bird it was, I don’t know exactly why it was with us.

Sadly, I’m not great at identifying LBJs, and my bird book, which makes me better at identifying LBJs, is down in Agulhas. The bird book app on my phone is better than carrying the bird book around, but is no good for browsing LBJs, which is my standard method of LBJ identification.

And with no photo (yet, at least), I’m just going to have to keep a mental image of this chaffinch-sized, slightly speckled, brown feathered thing until I get back down to my happy place and have chance to look it up.

Unless any of you guys want to hazard a guess, based on my detailed description above? (My current best guess is an African Dusky Flycatcher (Muscicapa adusta)).

Theewaterskloof not revisited

More amazing blogger professionalism here as I noted that it was (almost) a year ago when I took this group of pictures at the – then empty – Theewaterskloof Dam near Villiersdorp. Here’s the post.

It being (almost) one year on, it seems reasonable – essential, even – that I should return and do a comparison set of images. But I simply don’t have the time to fit that in, so you’ll just have to take my word for the fact that things are much improved from those worrying conditions of early February 2018. w

Today, Theewaterskloof stands at 48% full, compared to 14% when we visited last year. Overall, our dams are 62% full, compared to 27% this time last year. There are no worries about not having water in a couple of months time. All is good. All is moist.

There is a small, yet vocal, minority of individuals who still believe that the entire water crisis was simply a myth. They argue that it was merely a DA (our local ruling party) ploy to charge more money for water and to install Israeli-made water meters. There are two points that I would like to make to these people:

Firstly, that there is a small, yet vocal, minority of individuals who still believe that the moon landings were faked.
They are also wrong.

Secondly, supposing for just a moment that their allegations are correct (which they’re not); the sheer amount of effort to clandestinely remove billions and billions of litres of water over three years – enough to fool NASA (the same guys who faked the moon landings), prevent meaningful precipitation over a catchment area of 500 square kilometres (for Theewaterskloof alone) for 36 months and make news headlines worldwide surely deserves some sort of accolade?
Admit it: that is an incredible endeavour.

And for those thinking of switching their upcoming election vote away from the DA because of the way that they handled the crisis (and yes, it certainly wasn’t perfect), please make sure you choose to vote for a party which you genuinely believe could have managed it any better.
There’s suddenly not such a great selection any more, hey?

FBYC timelapse

None of the things I said I hadn’t done yesterday have been done, aside from the braai which was actually in Simonstown, and not Fishhoek. No harm done, since we found this out just before we set off for Fishhoek, which is on the way to Simonstown anyway.

The braai – at the posh yacht club, nogal – was a lot of fun with plenty of waterborne activities for the kids, and The Boy  Wonder set up a timelapse to record (some of) the afternoon while I slaved over the hot coals.

Not bad for a entry level mobile phone on an entry level tripod.
Colour me impressed.

Now I really need to make a start on those jobs I needed to have done a couple of days ago.

See you tomorrow.