With Mrs 6000 waking at 4am for a trip to Johannesbeagle, last night’s slumbers were restless at best. No-one sleeps well when they have to be up that early. And therefore, by extension, no-one who is sleeping next to someone who has to be up that early sleeps well either.
But there was still life to live here and plenty to be done. School happened. Jobs happened. Some jobs took much longer than they should have done, the blame for this being equally shared between them being a little more difficult than was anticipated, and it being “today me” that was doing them. But then they did get done and everyone got to their extra mural stuff on time, and everyone got picked up from their extra mural stuff on time.
And that even if I popped up to the top floor of the car park near to where the Boy Wonder was coaching the Dodgeball juniors, just because Cape Town looked lovely this evening.
Especially if you overlook the foreground.
Parent Teacher meetings, the bane of any student’s life, were done via the magic of Google Meet, from hotel lobbies and school car parks, and were both good and great.
And we all made it home safely.
There was dinner: basic, but delicious. There is a rather nice Bordeaux Blend. There is some UCL football.
But more than any of these things, there is a bed.
Firstly, go and play Puzzgrid. It’s like the wall on Only Connect, but online.
And if you want a 4-star difficulty challenge to begin with, try this one that I made earlier. I’m planning on making a few more (because mainly they’re stored in my head at the moment, and quite honestly, I need the space.)
Well, my rule of thumb is going to be a bit broken if this happens…
Wait… Watt*?!? But that would mean 32 hours… and there are only 24…
Wow. Who would have thought that the straw that finally broke the network’s back was simply running out of enough hours to shed in a day?
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Then: Was Eyjafjallajökull the final volcano?
Year 9 iGCSE Geography dictates that one must do a class presentation on a volcanic event. And additionally, that one must build a model of said volcano to demonstrate your knowledge thereof. I helped transport a model of Eyjafjallajökull (remember him?) into the school today, and was asked by the principal, who we saw along the way, if this was the final volcano project for our family.
I hadn’t really thought about it. But just maybe it was.
Volcano models are a rite of passage throughout your school years. You can learn more, and more, and more about them, depending on how far you want to go. You can do loads of geography, sociology, history, English, art and science about them. And yes, you can build models, from the super simple, through the vinegar and bicarb stage, and onto geographically and morphologically accurate representations, including glaciers, treelines, and – somewhat inexplicably in this case – a café.
And we’ve done them all. Twice over.
In total, our kids have over 24 years at that school. And yes, this might well have been our family’s final volcano project. That’s actually rather sad.
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Also: Qatar Airways unilaterally cancelled several of our flights this morning without any explanation. And then emailed me and asked me to “Acknowledge the changes” or “Request a refund”. I think I’m going to have to click both buttons there, aren’t I? I don’t think it’s quite enough for me to choose between the two, given how much COLD HARD CASH has gone into buying the tickets, and the CONTINUING NEED to be in certain places at certain times – with accommodation and car hire and connecting flights already booked. Because of many reasons (but mainly because of emigrating nearly 20 years ago), I have done a lot of international flying. This is the first time that I have used Qatar Airways. And this really is the first problem I’ve ever had.
Sadly, we’re kind of tied in with them now, so we need to rearrange another lot of flights with them, and hope that these ones actually exist when we try to fly on them.
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And finally – in the style of Trevor MacDonald – this:
I mean, if even he is saying it, then it must be true, right? Full marks for whoever cropped this meme (it wasn’t me) so that we were spared a sight of the offensive (and sinful) footwear.
This time somewhat digitally, with the Boy Wonder out and about all over Kenilworth, planning his latest escapade, and Little Miss 6000 visiting the local shopping mall with a friend. I’m just hanging about the local coffee shops at that mall, making sure that everything is ok, and if it isn’t, that I’m right on scene and ready to go should I be needed. It’s not that I don’t trust her: it’s everyone else that I have an issue with.
Technology being what it is, I can keep an eye on both of them via the power of mobile GPS, and so one eye is on that while the other is crafting a high quality blog post.
My Dad has gone wandering in Kirstenbosch. Unless you have a specific plan and a specific time limit – which he doesn’t – just wandering in Kirstenbosch is often the best way to do Kirstenbosch. I’m not keeping an eye on him, though. He’s old enough to look after himself.
And so everyone is everywhere and I’m just sitting here drinking a massive mug of coffee. I’m not sure this is what parenthood was meant to be like, but as long as everyone is ok, it seems easy enough to manage.
In fact, the only thing that’s not working out is my music. I left my headphones at home (because everything is all mixed up at the moment), and although I’ve been and got a cheap set from the dodgy Chinese shop just over there [points], now Spotify is refusing to open. Maybe in protest at the quality of the equipment. Justifiably so, then.
Otherwise though, it’s all good. I think that all I need now is a muffin.
And so, after 24 hours which have very, very nearly given us 100mm of rain in Cape Town, I find myself sitting in a car park near an oil refinery, in the dark and the continuing downpour, as the Boy Wonder trains for his next Big Thing (more about that at a later date).
The car park in question is about 30 sodden, spray-laden, trafficky kilometres from our house, and so with the session being two hours and the petrol price being what it is, I will sit here with my coffee, my portable hotspot for the internets and write a blog post as I overlook the lake.
Which… wasn’t there yesterday.
Not worth the effort and money of going home. And probably much safer to be here than on the road right now. In a country where every day is like driving in a video game, driving in the dark and the rain are like giving Pro Mode a try. You can get a hi-score just by arriving safely at your destination.
Of course, running your kids to various parties, events, classes and such is all part of being a modern day parent, And I’m very happy to support my children in all their chosen endeavours.
But there’s a lovely fire and a warm TV full of UEFA Nations League at home, and if I’m honest, I can’t help but feel that I’d rather be there than here right now.
