tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15161013510241525462024-03-14T07:05:01.396+02:00the one and Ibeing the chronicles of usIhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.comBlogger738125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-11246332373589420982024-03-10T13:49:00.003+02:002024-03-10T16:47:57.991+02:00darkest before dawn<div style="text-align: justify;">For whatever reason, my mood has unexpectedly started improving. The all-engulfing murkiness surrounding me gradually dissipates; a lone ray of sunlight largely banishes the gloom.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I suspect that the prayers of my faithful family have a hand in this development. Perhaps, too, the changing season has had an influence; although we're in the middle of the umpteenth heatwave this summer, autumn can't be far off as nights become bearable, making uninterrupted sleep possible once more.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Maybe the scales were tipped by the R42.99 carrot cake loaf I bought at Food Lover's Market when shopping for stew ingredients on Friday afternoon. Intended to last for at least two days, the copious amount of sugar it contained was so delectable that The One and I consumed the entire loaf in a matter of hours.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAvTw3nWjf4_xuWJyGOyfOysOUHuUi4i6oJuHvPOq845AvEmMACLfZvD5Bwa6vmeJvDAGUrcA-ztPkX-rqX1ysqbudU17BBIRMd_5kN-htKc_ay059c7k2H1GtSeUooV1Sq7I0ijKXCSZJQ9azu0uXQ8NMtY5aa6uYyv_7-dHHN9KIpCK_zIQVD_Iw2csR/s800/sml_20240309_163224.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAvTw3nWjf4_xuWJyGOyfOysOUHuUi4i6oJuHvPOq845AvEmMACLfZvD5Bwa6vmeJvDAGUrcA-ztPkX-rqX1ysqbudU17BBIRMd_5kN-htKc_ay059c7k2H1GtSeUooV1Sq7I0ijKXCSZJQ9azu0uXQ8NMtY5aa6uYyv_7-dHHN9KIpCK_zIQVD_Iw2csR/s320/sml_20240309_163224.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">These six weeks have been the wildest ride of my life. On several occasions, I came close - at least in thought - to doing myself a mischief. At these times the heavy-heartedness was so intense that I cared nothing about the destruction I'd leave behind if only I could escape. Oh, the cruel suffering of <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2008/01/father.html" target="_blank">my father</a> and of <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2019/03/a-sad-farewell.html" target="_blank">Dirk</a>!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I have decided to take a short break from my regular <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/11/to-clean-or-not-to-clean.html" target="_blank">war stories</a>; with the end of the atrocities waiting in the wings, the <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2024/03/liberation.html" target="_blank">current subject matter</a> is nevertheless utterly grave and I found something less morbid to binge on in the interval. Produced by Hanks and Spielberg, who also gave us <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0185906/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1" target="_blank">Band of Brothers</a> and <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0374463/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0_tt_8_nm_0_q_the%2520pac" target="_blank">The Pacific</a>, it's an uplifting nine-episode miniseries called <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt2640044/" target="_blank">Masters of the Air</a>. Just like its predecessors, it has been meticulously put together, giving an account of the exploits of the American 100th Bomb Group ("The Bloody 100th") - these consummately brave soldiers risk their lives flying B-17 "Flying Fortress" heavy bombers from England to destroy the Nazis' ability to continue the war. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Given the sudden upswing in my state of mind, my attentive husband is less reluctant to leave me alone and set off to visit Jane so that I can have some time for myself. He left at 9:00 this morning while I was brewing our <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/05/of-stew.html" target="_blank">stew</a> for the week; I made sure all my chores were done early so that I could compose a decent post for a change. My last two attempts may seem sloppy, but both were extraordinarily difficult to construct and publish.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As the stew cooked, I did the dishes - always a mind-relaxing activity. Free from worry for a second, I realised that there is an unmistakable correlation between the insane pressure at work and how the relentless stress results in my spirits plummeting into a fathomless, unilluminated abyss. When this happens, my face and head become covered in clusters of strategically placed, throbbing pustules.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Fuller" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></a><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Fuller" target="_blank">Thomas Fuller</a> remarked that it is darkest just before dawn. I pray that this is the case, for it means that <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2024/02/the-promised-land.html" target="_blank">evasive light</a> I have mentioned is aflicker and not a <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2024/02/like-fata-morgana.html" target="_blank">mirage</a> after all.</span></blockquote></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The way forward is clear, then - abide by the coming of the light.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Written by I</span></i></div>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-51008794035103109582024-03-06T21:58:00.008+02:002024-03-07T19:51:37.841+02:00liberation<div style="text-align: justify;">Life is excruciatingly intense just now.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">At work, the inhuman pressure has not relented. I cannot recall a time when I have been this stressed, as one impossible deadline looms after the other - primed to crush me.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I cannot recall ever having been as ready to concede defeat.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In the midst of this bleak time, my <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/11/to-clean-or-not-to-clean.html" target="_blank">war stories</a> have led me to the Red Army's thrust into Nazi-occupied Poland.</div><div><br /></div><div>27 January 1945:</div><div><br /></div><div><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">"In this drive, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pavel_Kurochkin" target="_blank">Kurochkin</a>'s riflemen stumbled on the gigantic death camp at Auschwitz, with all its hideously perverted industrial processes of mass extermination - the rail unloading ramps and assembly points, the gas chambers and crematoria, and the grisly mountain of a full seven tons of women's hair, bulging bales of suits and dresses, plus the grotesque heaps of dentures and spectacles removed from those consigned to death." </span></blockquote><blockquote style="text-align: right;">John Ericson, <i>The Road to Berlin</i></blockquote></div><div><br /></div><div>Alexander Vorontsov, Red Army officer and cameraman during the liberation:</div><div><br /></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div>"A ghastly sight arose before our eyes: a vast number of barracks... People lay in bunks inside many of them. They were skeletons clad in skin, with vacant gazes. Of course, we spoke with them. However, these were brief conversations, because these people who remained alive were totally devoid of strength, and it was hard for them to say much about their time in the camp.</div><div><br /></div><div>"When we talked with them and explained who we were and why we had come, they trusted us a bit more. The women wept, and - this cannot be concealed - the men wept as well.</div><div><br /></div><div>"You could say that there were pyramids on the grounds of the camp. Some were made up of accumulated clothing, others of pots, and others still of human jaws. I believe that not even the commanders of our army had any idea of the dimensions of the crime committed in this largest of camps.</div><div><br /></div><div>"The memory has stayed with me my whole life long. Time has no sway over these recollections. It has not wiped all the horrible things I saw and filmed from of my mind."</div></blockquote><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7VIfl8Fx4L4QJJP5x-I1DpJ4k4WHa8MXyNfs8S0GvKZhl6Ex0IP6FZ8NdyafS3h67rIM4vng0qlu_O5wEerUJYqzbWkWS22pNip1RiQs-6NHtz3s8J_1-wDtE_l5YWGTOHavHM0sZuYpLDtFIMD1ytWbs9uu6M6Qbp9F3oja2Hrue130kG48FEcLCiQ9z/s803/Auschwitz_Liberation_1945.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="803" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7VIfl8Fx4L4QJJP5x-I1DpJ4k4WHa8MXyNfs8S0GvKZhl6Ex0IP6FZ8NdyafS3h67rIM4vng0qlu_O5wEerUJYqzbWkWS22pNip1RiQs-6NHtz3s8J_1-wDtE_l5YWGTOHavHM0sZuYpLDtFIMD1ytWbs9uu6M6Qbp9F3oja2Hrue130kG48FEcLCiQ9z/s320/Auschwitz_Liberation_1945.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="text-align: left;"> </span></div><p></p><div></div><div>War turns men into beasts.</div><div><br /></div><div><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">"The Russian vengeance on German civilians was swift, personal, merciless and more often than not brutal. To debate here whether the misery and destruction the Germans had visited on half of European Russia in the execution of Nazi occupation policy exceeded the rape, arson, pillage and wanton murder that accompanied the Russian march into Eastern Germany would be pointless."</span></blockquote><blockquote style="text-align: right;">Earl Ziemke, <i>Stalingrad to Berlin</i></blockquote></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div><br /></div><div>Ever more intense blazes this longing for my own liberation.</div><div><br /></div><div><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Written by I</span></i></div>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-17116620878838405682024-02-26T20:51:00.003+02:002024-02-27T20:55:56.394+02:00like a fata morgana<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6slBUevouqrM96fF4KeakBTKyVAAtdpr1Pn9D47PWHRjfmXOiarQJ_S2TO4bIOrPhz98EjN02uqs22BSveg31D3TQI20d0suEpp0HAOosZk_xdU7tVvvkYxXB-Uz0lS0M6ZRhJjyFIaIhU1PFHrBWavm-_qU6Oj-tg8rjoivGxw5wO_d4FwDN88aEKKV2/s1200/fata-morgana-3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1034" data-original-width="1200" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6slBUevouqrM96fF4KeakBTKyVAAtdpr1Pn9D47PWHRjfmXOiarQJ_S2TO4bIOrPhz98EjN02uqs22BSveg31D3TQI20d0suEpp0HAOosZk_xdU7tVvvkYxXB-Uz0lS0M6ZRhJjyFIaIhU1PFHrBWavm-_qU6Oj-tg8rjoivGxw5wO_d4FwDN88aEKKV2/s320/fata-morgana-3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p> </p><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>A <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fata_Morgana_(mirage)" target="_blank">Fata Morgana </a>is a complex form of mirage often observed in the Strait of Messina which separates Sicily from the Italian mainland. The term is Italian for "Morgan the Fairy" </span><span>- Morgan le Fay of Arthurian legend - and these mirages were said to be castles in the air conjured by her magic.</span></span></blockquote></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I mentioned a certain light at the end of a supposed tunnel in an earlier <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2024/02/the-promised-land.html" target="_blank">post</a>. Last night as I endured another endless, sleepless stretch it occurred to me that what I described as a light before is nothing more than a Fata Morgana. Obscure. Out of reach. Ever-changing.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">That means no bounded tunnel exists and the world consists entirely of this crushing darkness.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Such were my contemplations when I finally dozed off a couple of minutes before being yanked back to wretched reality by my alarm. My marred mind commenced its incessant whirring. By the time I was brushing teeth, I was deliberating how we occasionally amuse ourselves by building castles in the air. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">These short-lived constructions inevitably crumble into oblivion.</div><div><br /></div><div><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Written by I</span></i></div>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-51654233063330413282024-02-18T13:33:00.002+02:002024-02-18T13:42:28.362+02:00zach of all trades<div style="text-align: justify;">This caustic e-mail arrived on Monday 5 February - the day after my <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2024/02/the-promised-land.html" target="_blank">last post</a>:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQm3fO0Z4acJW9BrnpeavCMWHYMNuiREaPw3GObecK8ERd859aHlJtYPMoNESQgrBQG5GhLuOi-iE6VzmH4uCOUe6OZMoAvE2vIe0zE4-HIwMThyJlhKFMx4gLEehGfHyvBVLJ4xQ4s48CuwIFHCBFjElYJSfoS4C_Nt7uXWhETU3NQ5X4rchZcljUUVrS/s800/20240217_092535_sml.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQm3fO0Z4acJW9BrnpeavCMWHYMNuiREaPw3GObecK8ERd859aHlJtYPMoNESQgrBQG5GhLuOi-iE6VzmH4uCOUe6OZMoAvE2vIe0zE4-HIwMThyJlhKFMx4gLEehGfHyvBVLJ4xQ4s48CuwIFHCBFjElYJSfoS4C_Nt7uXWhETU3NQ5X4rchZcljUUVrS/s320/20240217_092535_sml.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Even though I'd followed each and every internal company process to the letter, I'd been forced to pay R1,400 (pilfered from our emergency savings) when the abrasive client rejected her job - a handful of custom sublimated lanyards. The cow was still unsatisfied and insisted on broadcasting how useless she thought I was.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><blockquote>That <i>WOMAN</i> can't read either or she'd know how to spell my name.</blockquote></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">On that Friday, I was declared salesman and dispatched on an impromptu marketing assignment, having to present a bunch of promotional items to a panel of seven people at their offices. I hadn't even seen the items I was supposed to promote, only collecting them on my way to the meeting.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">A small demonstration of what the last two weeks have been like at my thankless job. At one stage I realised that I'd never worked as hard in my life - and for what?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Last Saturday was a complete waste. Having stumbled into bed around 3:00am, I surfaced after 9:30am; nursing a middling hangover, I vegetated until 11:00am when I gave up and hit the sack again for a snooze. Feeling somewhat revitalised by 13:00, I got up and immersed myself in <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2016/03/how-to-block-bad-witch.html?q=skylines" target="_blank">Cities Skylines</a> for some hours before catching up on <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/11/to-clean-or-not-to-clean.html" target="_blank">the war</a>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">It is hard not to feel sorry for the Nazis, having taken a proper beating in the Ardennes - until you remember the millions they continue to oppress and exterminate, scattering the nameless ashes to the four winds.</span></blockquote></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">On my way back to the shop from the presentation the day before, I'd transformed into my husband's valet for a couple of minutes, making an illegal stop at Pep to get him a new vest as a replacement for the tattered T-shirt he'd been sleeping in. The vest I'd got turned out to be a long-sleeved one, completely unsuitable for the current weather.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We went to bed around 22:00, The One still wearing his threadbare tee. After such an early night I was wide awake shortly after 6:00am on Sunday. Coffee and a puff out of the way, I donned my mechanic's cap because <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2020/03/picanto-gas.html?q=kia" target="_blank">my love's car</a> had a flat tyre that needed fixing. Removing a wood screw - definitely not ours - protruding from the deflated tyre, I used the last rubber strip in our kit to plug the hole; it's alarming how many flats we've had of late.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Before driving to the MBT down the road to get the tyre pumped, I quickly switched hats to gardener and manicured the lawns in a flash. I left cleaning up for later and first took that drive to the garage, swopping over to personal shopper on the way back for some necessities at Shoprite. The local Pep was just opening when I was done and I made sure that I got a sleeveless vest for my darling man this time.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Back home, I duly cleaned up the grass clippings and then mixed a batch of Roundup to take care of the persistent grass that keep shooting up between the flagstones on the patio. Frustratingly, the bloody expensive plastic spray bottle I'd bought at Westpack two or three months before would not work. The goddamned thing shattered like glass when it <i>accidentally </i>slipped from my hand, splashing herbicide all over the patio and also covering half the pampered lawn.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Taking shelter from the blazing sun inside, I became the domestic and took care of the trash and the cat shit before once more putting on my gamer's hat and losing myself in a virtual land of milk and honey.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">There was hardly any improvement in the relentless stress at work last week. Feeling completely demotivated, I nevertheless stuck with it and made sure my work was impeccable as always - at least by my standards.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><blockquote>What would you do if you were presented with a button which, upon pressing, would make you softly and silently fade away - as if you'd never been there in the first place? My impulsive response to such an imaginary device frightened me; however, toying with the idea of never having existed got me through the worst sleepless nights.</blockquote></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Like the week before, Thursday became one more disappointment when my love's band practice was cancelled at the last minute and visions of an evening spent alone, self-medicating to my heart's desire, evaporated in an instant.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Yesterday was a carbon copy of the previous Saturday - welcome to life as a crapulent veg. A storm began brewing in the south towards late afternoon and I made sure my tablet was chockful of <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/11/to-clean-or-not-to-clean.html" target="_blank">war stories</a> in case the <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2024/01/one-fell-swoop.html" target="_blank">gods were feeling displeased again</a>. Thankfully, the tempest blew over without incident this time, leaving only a mild sauna in its wake.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Once again, we retired to bed at 22:00 last night, and once again I was up soon after dawn. I spent the morning as a carwash attendant, scrubbing both our grimy heaps until they gleamed. Then, more of the same as I switched over to domestic - sweeping, trash, cat shit.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><blockquote>All the early-morning activity resulted in a bloodstream saturated with endorphins, which is why I finally donned my writer's cap to sit down and compile this disconsolate chronicle.</blockquote></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Jack of all trades? Perhaps, but to echo that <a href="https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=beeyatch" target="_blank">beeyatch</a> - the master of none.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Written by I</i></span></div>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-36489113209256518152024-02-04T21:06:00.002+02:002024-02-04T21:24:14.747+02:00the promised land<p style="text-align: justify;">Life's been unusually tumultuous lately and I haven't had the energy to post since <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2024/01/one-fell-swoop.html" target="_blank">you last heard from me</a>. At this stage, just hanging on to the edge takes every bit of my strength; my mind is fuzzy and this post has taken all day to compose.</p><p style="text-align: center;">*</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Last weekend kicked off with a supply run to Uitkyk at dawn on Saturday, leaving my husband fast asleep in bed. The shopping dash was uneventful; my love was up by the time I returned and he helped me to pack away our vittles.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I had the obligatory coffee and a puff while waiting for a decent time - 7:55am - before proceeding to manicure the lawns. After that, I trimmed the jasmine down the driveway - the second time in as many months. We've had an unseasonal amount of rain and the greenery thrives.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">We spent Sunday with Jane in her glamorous new house, located a stone's throw from my work.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMKIL2NbTXQf2onAxbDH7kFS7dJABwneVLmkhmoD-Zfn6sNZ5Jse-qrNhMv6BwsnOjlghoJzMe_Sj9fOWbaDx9Y7pK34b6gwE40YnMpnHQHdVWKT_xtwhLK7DPm8CBjS1-W-kLY3BGwzH-CZclkI2W_W21XwXCiysiI5FlnYYv35kTp8-mf-2zk5hszYy/s800/sml_rt.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMKIL2NbTXQf2onAxbDH7kFS7dJABwneVLmkhmoD-Zfn6sNZ5Jse-qrNhMv6BwsnOjlghoJzMe_Sj9fOWbaDx9Y7pK34b6gwE40YnMpnHQHdVWKT_xtwhLK7DPm8CBjS1-W-kLY3BGwzH-CZclkI2W_W21XwXCiysiI5FlnYYv35kTp8-mf-2zk5hszYy/s320/sml_rt.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">Our visit wasn't entirely social - there were important matters to discuss, and a possible light at the end of the tunnel of one of our biggest headaches. Jane kindly treated us to Chinese takeaways while we jabbered - I couldn't finish my delicious beef chow mein and brought the leftovers home for a tasty midnight snack. Dessert was a 1-litre box of Clover Bliss split three ways.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">Work has been especially treacherous with several "team members" missing or gone. I got called in for a proper reprimand - two against one - because of my supposed huffing and puffing, plus the fact that I have not been a team player of late. I'm pretty sure anyone would show cracks under such intense pressure, but that's the thanks you get for your 11-hour days.</span></blockquote><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">By Thursday I was so exhausted that I just wanted to lie down and die; that light I mentioned seemed very dim and far off. It felt as though I'd fallen into the trap of believing something too good to be true. My patient love managed to bolster my spirits with gentle words and I was endlessly grateful when the weekend finally arrived.</p><p style="text-align: center;">*</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Yesterday morning we cleaned the house (yes, so soon again after the <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/12/the-sluts-wool-factory.html" target="_blank">last time</a>). A police helicopter circled above; I imagine they were checking if we were okay. Incredibly, the sanitising only took an hour this time - mostly because I've diligently swept the house every Sunday since our <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/12/the-sluts-wool-factory.html" target="_blank">grand scrub</a>.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Following the cleaning, I sorted the trash and the cat litter before I brewed our <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/05/of-stew.html" target="_blank">stew</a> for the week. I took the rest of the day off, ignoring the garden and having a glorious nap instead. I disappeared into the cyber when I surfaced.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">This morning I was up just after 7:00am. As I explained in <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2024/01/one-fell-swoop.html" target="_blank">my last post</a>, in an attempt to get back Openview, I had to clamber onto the roof <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/11/going-digital.html" target="_blank">once more</a> and replace the dish's LNB. All my effort had zero effect so it's R200 down the drain and we are still <i>sans </i>TV.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I tried to relax today, for tomorrow will be yet another wild one at work. It has been confirmed that two of my "teammates" will not be there.</p><p style="text-align: center;">*</p><p style="text-align: justify;">One day, I hope, our fairy godmother will put aside her knitting long enough to pick up her wand and shake it at us. I'd love to live in the promised land where people are kind and stuff works. Until then, we'll just have to keep eyeing the neighbours' clothes drying on the walls - including the most hideous gold pumps I've ever seen.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-gQlAZ1Beykztd8K1t4cY0HTBZsJlygg2MFxjILiAvAzcCkfdRy6Il70asEAicJLD9b-wnSGx1ehRLN1ev9QiSpGpbl7IO-ytE8PArUJiIDkA-0Ru_b8YiUm0DopJQ6sZJN90A6H6lBAGvRFKoFdMzxy3N3givFBCub6TTQYALex4DtPmzB5fnd97eLb-/s800/sml_20240203_115757CUNT.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-gQlAZ1Beykztd8K1t4cY0HTBZsJlygg2MFxjILiAvAzcCkfdRy6Il70asEAicJLD9b-wnSGx1ehRLN1ev9QiSpGpbl7IO-ytE8PArUJiIDkA-0Ru_b8YiUm0DopJQ6sZJN90A6H6lBAGvRFKoFdMzxy3N3givFBCub6TTQYALex4DtPmzB5fnd97eLb-/s320/sml_20240203_115757CUNT.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqqck5R_mzAVay4iF-ZLmIrepwd477RavLLG7LqARBUTLEePYuw5MJx3IJ0At0EnrrFQedC2s3o4WQXBqOTNT4u-aAsxwJ4_i5xjByDHtM6AbKa-nVZrhSS3rNZC2B8ChMZPqTaOGLW2dYqkSjYQnUUNNgEdDR5cNht6mZVWbN-tTAgE2OJW6phatpmFwJ/s800/sml_20240203_115826.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqqck5R_mzAVay4iF-ZLmIrepwd477RavLLG7LqARBUTLEePYuw5MJx3IJ0At0EnrrFQedC2s3o4WQXBqOTNT4u-aAsxwJ4_i5xjByDHtM6AbKa-nVZrhSS3rNZC2B8ChMZPqTaOGLW2dYqkSjYQnUUNNgEdDR5cNht6mZVWbN-tTAgE2OJW6phatpmFwJ/s320/sml_20240203_115826.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Written by I</span></i></p>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-31295884210328326812024-01-21T14:15:00.003+02:002024-01-21T19:23:41.246+02:00one fell swoop<div style="text-align: justify;">While I was constructing <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2024/01/sisyphus-bach.html" target="_blank">last week's post</a>, a typical, brief highveld thunderstorm raged outside. The tempest was all but over when I had finally published the chronicle; my love was having a snooze as the setting sun broke through the clearing skies in the west.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm still not entirely sure why, but it was at this exact moment that an enraged Zeus unleashed a forceful bolt of lightning that shook our little house. The power dipped and an alarming crack sounded; I was quite relieved when the electricity didn't disappear entirely.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It had gone damned quiet, though, and I cautiously investigated.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">To my dismay, I discovered that the universe had seen it fit to disable our treasured LG hi-fi, adding the satellite connection to the mix. In a cruel twist, they'd left the TV untouched - rendered useless with no input or output.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Growing up, we lost our television (very similar to the one shown below) on one or two occasions when lightning hit the aerial on the roof; by the time I was in high school, we'd learned to unplug it completely at the slightest hint of a storm. Back then, there was a TV tech in the extended family and we could always call on Oom Jaap to fix the monstrous Blaupunkt.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuruRW2aeyc0bvLh2Pm_2id4nGI_mNare5WtOaJzGJ7jGnzb_OZCbhPXE2YuDgI1_vEsYs4FXF99ssnfUQCWN0XWymctviWXDxpNyMuIzpYw2Q4SQgdqz9xDwD5qHW0dGGijB7UT2gVqZFpPvMBtuxBxXYzz9xDEMWffhh63x0zawmj1ND5cKXt_6RBL3Z/s778/sml%20blaupunkt%20colombo%20color%201972%201973%20totaal01.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="778" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuruRW2aeyc0bvLh2Pm_2id4nGI_mNare5WtOaJzGJ7jGnzb_OZCbhPXE2YuDgI1_vEsYs4FXF99ssnfUQCWN0XWymctviWXDxpNyMuIzpYw2Q4SQgdqz9xDwD5qHW0dGGijB7UT2gVqZFpPvMBtuxBxXYzz9xDEMWffhh63x0zawmj1ND5cKXt_6RBL3Z/s320/sml%20blaupunkt%20colombo%20color%201972%201973%20totaal01.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was in this spirit that my husband unscrewed the cover of our busted LG the following morning to work his magic on its circuitry. Sadly, the gods had made sure that even he could not put Humpty together again.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwQqL77bjhvf6-MPRFCLCaNU26d4wL-ons-nuCxKBzayqRdfIeSXgerltvUdxt7Meyl5F0PmKH4KTNOjeuysTXALJYuyKRAXGkpiaW8wSkBTvDcnqHXevzykUvmOl6v9P1mifHtzLNnkG94NgIoUa-ygVNzhAjaQclSYK5JRvz6hcbAxn6irTCV5aj3pa2/s800/sml_IMG-20240115-WA0000.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwQqL77bjhvf6-MPRFCLCaNU26d4wL-ons-nuCxKBzayqRdfIeSXgerltvUdxt7Meyl5F0PmKH4KTNOjeuysTXALJYuyKRAXGkpiaW8wSkBTvDcnqHXevzykUvmOl6v9P1mifHtzLNnkG94NgIoUa-ygVNzhAjaQclSYK5JRvz6hcbAxn6irTCV5aj3pa2/s320/sml_IMG-20240115-WA0000.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">The Openview decoder itself seems to be working, which means that the <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/11/going-digital.html" target="_blank">dish I'd so painstakingly installed</a> about a year ago may be the problem. Comes payday, I'll clamber onto the roof again to replace the LNB (that's the Low-Noise Block downconverter for the uninformed, such as myself) in the hopes that it will have the desired effect. The TV has a built-in speaker; feeble though it is, it will banish the eerie silence.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">During a <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2018/09/retail-therapy.html" target="_blank">similar occurrence</a> in June of 2018, which we assumed at the time to have been an extended power surge after load-shedding ended, we lost:</div><div><br /></div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>My computer</li><li>My sound system</li><li>The One's sound system</li><li>DVD player</li><li>Washing machine</li><li>Microwave oven</li><li>Various device chargers </li></ul></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Following that particular calamity, we systematically replaced the plugs on all our major appliances with surge-protected ones. The TV cluster even had two layers of security, or so we thought, with everything plugged into an expensive Ellies surge-shielding multi-plug.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The gods, however, careth not and effortlessly flanked our flimsy fortifications.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">On 26 December last year, we bid a tearful goodbye to our daily soapie, <i>Sewende Laan</i>, which we'd so loved to hate. In its place, SABC rehashed a decades-old <i>Vetkoekpaleis</i>, which neither of us has the stomach for a second time around. Instead, of late we'd been watching gems such as <i>Love It or List It</i>, <i>Escape to the Country</i> and <i>Escape to the Chateau</i> on Openview's Home Channel during dinner.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">For now, we are forced to listen to each other's misophonic munching and the occasional conversation from next door when we eat.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Written by I</i></span></div>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-21997198981291294062024-01-14T15:59:00.002+02:002024-01-14T19:08:19.019+02:00sisyphus | bach<div style="text-align: justify;"><blockquote>In Greek mythology, <b><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sisyphus" target="_blank">Sisyphus</a></b> was the founder and king of Corinth. He was a devious tyrant who, among other acts of savage treachery, murdered visitors to flaunt his might. This violation of sacred hospitality greatly angered the gods and they punished him for his trickery, including having cheated death on two occasions.</blockquote><p> </p><blockquote><span style="font-size: large;"> He was condemned to roll an immense boulder up a steep hill, only for it to roll back down every time it neared the top - to be repeated for eternity.</span></blockquote></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was with mixed feelings that I got ready to return to work on Tuesday. I'd gone to bed at 23:00 the night before and felt reasonably rested; however, my nerves were somewhat shot and I was quite anxious - exactly like returning to school for a new year.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">On my way out, The One and I discovered two of our usually evasive Giant African Snails (<i>Archachatina marginata</i>) fornicating on the front lawn. I remember thinking how fortunate some creatures are to be able to have a leisurely shag on the grass first thing in the morning, while others have to slog off to a place they loathe for the scant cash and the odd coffee.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Anyway, it was good to see Farthing out and about; the <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/04/autumn-blues.html" target="_blank">last time I mentioned them</a>, I assumed they were about to die. Their wounds, which had seemed life-threatening then, had healed remarkably well. Even their cracked shell had mended. Perhaps their latest lover, Penny, had something to do with that new spring in their step. (I refer to snails using nonbinary pronouns since they are hermaphrodites, if I remember my high school Biology correctly.)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIO9QyjcHewKimrT6ZTRSocx5tj-MUydyAn2To4d0hKW50Jbpo9LmHXCuaJnUe-abU14dTDjbq5exEGqvBAlj-lkpcbCBBh8LVNIsJfHP6dK2aDfukiIaGaAotcIagVM96RpsW4iNQX7I7EyrI9ZIa8dKNkxf6M7VmMD_Rm44P0EKQ-3JWZ8WXkaFQN9LH/s800/20221211_182050a_sml.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIO9QyjcHewKimrT6ZTRSocx5tj-MUydyAn2To4d0hKW50Jbpo9LmHXCuaJnUe-abU14dTDjbq5exEGqvBAlj-lkpcbCBBh8LVNIsJfHP6dK2aDfukiIaGaAotcIagVM96RpsW4iNQX7I7EyrI9ZIa8dKNkxf6M7VmMD_Rm44P0EKQ-3JWZ8WXkaFQN9LH/s320/20221211_182050a_sml.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">I had to move the genderfluid libertines out of the way since they were right behind my car and I didn't want to squash them mid-act (what a way to go, though). The buggers hissed at me in protest while fleeing into their sanctuaries as I set them down out of harm's way.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This post began taking shape in my mind on my way to work, where I arrived at 6:55. The shop would not be open to the public on the first day - we had to do a spring clean in the morning, attending several workshops after lunch. An instructor in laughing yoga arrived to fire us up for 2024. It sure is strange to see what other people find entertaining.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">And so I begin pushing the boulder up the hill once again.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;">I was wide awake around 6:00am this morning; already back in the rut of early rises, I'd been up at the same time yesterday. Our electricity had flickered off just before 22:00 last night and my love had gone to bed. By 22:50 I was fed up and decided to give it a go, too. Thankfully, as I opened the bedroom door, the world lit up and started whirring, meaning that instead of trying to sleep in a humid swamp, I could serenely drift off in our ambient makeshift wind tunnel.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Today I didn't simply plonk down in front of the computer like yesterday, though. After coffee and a puff, I replaced the cat litter and then collected and got rid of the trash. Next, I organised the kitchen for a fresh batch of <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/05/of-stew.html" target="_blank">stew</a>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Leaving the brewing aside for the moment, though, I darted across the soggy lawns with the lawnmower and the edge trimmer before the surrounding suburbanites could become restless. Penny and Farthing must have been going at it for a while; I encountered a couple of their offspring on my odyssey - by their size, older than a month or two - and I had to tread carefully.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It had gone 8:40am by the time the lawns were manicured; the African sun was scorching as early as that. I concluded my efforts in maintaining our Sisyphean garden by butchering four saplings that had grown out of hand in the driveway overnight - three white stinkwoods and <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/03/of-mulberries-and-maize-figs-and-fan.html" target="_blank">yet another fan palm</a>. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">While I do my very best to stay inside the lines, my magician husband keeps himself occupied by assembling intricate circuits - like these ones for a modular synthesiser that he pulled from thin air:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwxpdpulcGCxRUHjcMTeQCGoVbOuWTjquzwjzi-LLPJWHw_7__y2qbwhmANXbOkuGTptMsclFmbePrNO-o6KuCFKFKsZ-FA9AeWUeVePThqIhBYeH3CRt56BVyjFLqGUTsnywYnpRACPbD6a6XT5uECAYFgVXrxOsRdqhVV9Y5SmlHW0h-7Ds2lfXr9spG/s800/20240114_133729_sml.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwxpdpulcGCxRUHjcMTeQCGoVbOuWTjquzwjzi-LLPJWHw_7__y2qbwhmANXbOkuGTptMsclFmbePrNO-o6KuCFKFKsZ-FA9AeWUeVePThqIhBYeH3CRt56BVyjFLqGUTsnywYnpRACPbD6a6XT5uECAYFgVXrxOsRdqhVV9Y5SmlHW0h-7Ds2lfXr9spG/s320/20240114_133729_sml.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Here is a short video to demonstrate his inspiration:</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/J8sS5NkADBE" width="320" youtube-src-id="J8sS5NkADBE"></iframe></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">If I am Sisyphus, then my beloved is Bach.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Written by I</span></i></div>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-33773217384835129372024-01-04T20:51:00.001+02:002024-01-04T20:57:16.101+02:00four days in<div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/12/taking-day-off.html" target="_blank">At the beginning of my little holiday</a>, our side garden was in a sad state. This photo was taken on 21 December last year, the second day of my annual leave:</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9S7tJrGbydZ79vltR5RbbQD3AQZMHDfR2fdFyOrK9KsMcW_3KztrXxiBPSyQPuz08Mvn-iDTGSqPyrNQcDy87bdx8cQ7dPtjosTv-gGEPE1bSxgQ0AhzwWCSplZoB6QoRmf3oa1XPdeu4saw6azac6dKlDMFPKkiamvejWnN9UM0vkGBsrWwbW4Nh_LQK/s800/1sml_20231221_073649.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9S7tJrGbydZ79vltR5RbbQD3AQZMHDfR2fdFyOrK9KsMcW_3KztrXxiBPSyQPuz08Mvn-iDTGSqPyrNQcDy87bdx8cQ7dPtjosTv-gGEPE1bSxgQ0AhzwWCSplZoB6QoRmf3oa1XPdeu4saw6azac6dKlDMFPKkiamvejWnN9UM0vkGBsrWwbW4Nh_LQK/s320/1sml_20231221_073649.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I manicured the lawns right after I snapped that.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Fast forward a <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/12/" target="_blank">couple of posts</a> to Sunday, 31 December.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The surroundings had been suspiciously quiet since <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/12/we-all-know-how-this-ends.html" target="_blank">Christmas</a>, with only a handful of firecracker volleys and hardly any <a href="https://www.reddit.com/r/DoesAnybodyElse/comments/nvqpto/dae_know_what_does_doef_doef_mean/?rdt=53367" target="_blank">doef-doef</a>. When the last day of the year dawned and it was as tranquil, I began feeling uneasy - surely, a storm was brewing out of view.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><blockquote>Then, just after noon, the not-unexpected battle commenced.</blockquote></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Our hearts sank as soon as we spotted the spanned bedouin canopy that the obnoxious hooligans to the north were using in place of the <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/01/damage-report.html" target="_blank">little blue gazebo of the year before</a>. It shot up like a mushroom; almost immediately, guests started pouring in. Thus kicked off our most-feared tribulation; Barry White took centre stage for the opening salvo.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I've always maintained that my husband could sleep right through Armageddon, and he has proven me right. After a harrowing afternoon of inexorable booming, he retired to bed at 22:00 as usual while I stayed up to babysit the cats. <i>I</i> may have known the explosions were coming with the arrival of the witching hour, but our poor darlings did not. As the first blast shattered the night sky, <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/08/the-orange-cat.html?q=orange+cat" target="_blank">Mary</a> raced to the bedroom door and desperately hammered at it so she could go hide in her makeshift bunker under the bed. Letting her in, I checked on The One; he slept serenely with Geoffrey snoring next to him.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Leaving the three of them in peace, I went looking for <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/05/meet-charles.html" target="_blank">Charles</a>. After a long search, I found him stuck in the darkest corner he'd been able to get to - under a coffee table packed with random shit - and I had to squirm face down on the floor (<a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/12/the-sluts-wool-factory.html" target="_blank">mercifully clean</a>) to dig him out of his den. It took a while to calm the shell-shocked blighter; thankfully, the bangs subsided around 1:00am and he passed out, curled into a tiny ball on my darling's desk chair.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;">Strangely, the volume of fireworks in the street had been noticeably less than the year before.</span></blockquote></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Sadly, the volume of the riotous drunkards next door did not abate and by 3:00am I'd had my fill of the dreck. My love was just getting up as I crept into bed after painfully plugging my ears. The jollification had not ended when I got up at 8:00am, but then it was abruptly over at 9:00am with not a peep emanating until the following afternoon.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We weren't sure if the garbage truck would do collections on <b>New Year's Day</b>. Around 10:00am I heard it approaching and, since my dearest was having the first snooze of the day by then, I ran to drag the overfull bin out, reaching the sidewalk just as the truck parked in front of our gate. I waited as it was emptied, hoping nobody would notice the maggots.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><blockquote>Some intoxicated partygoers milled about, walking up and down the street, quart bottles in hand. They were too far gone to notice my death glare.</blockquote></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I took the rest of the day off (it <i>was </i>a public holiday, after all) and spaced out on <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/11/to-clean-or-not-to-clean.html" target="_blank">war stories</a>. I'm almost up to date with only a small buffer of new episodes left. Currently, it is mid-December 1944; the Nazis are about to launch their last-ditch attempt at turning the tide of the war. They will try to bisect the Allied Armies in an unanticipated move to re-take the crucial port city of <a href="https://maps.app.goo.gl/5kAifUFKKDv1uBUm6" target="_blank">Antwerp</a>, attacking through the poorly-defended Ardennes forest in Belgium - we now know this as the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_the_Bulge" target="_blank">Battle of the Bulge</a>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But I digress.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">On Tuesday, the <b>second</b> day of the brand new year, I diligently trimmed the unruly <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/07/confessions-of-serial-plant-killer.html" target="_blank">monster on the wall</a>, ignoring our lowlife neighbours - they had yet to surface after the grand booze-up. I was delighted with the results, though I had not managed to lop off the topmost vines that were snaking onto the roof again.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The photo below shows my efforts - on the left, you can still spot the stretched canopy, only surreptitiously removed later that afternoon.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeL_SDLlmaRCOpyfGmRS_jw2JoEwwLhekGDzze5ml3UEmbwF8Z64Mer6pjgybrA_TcGEd7LCeKAbaQCrG0g99uzPIXZ9EIVj53YOSCVnfsScSQSEWF1f9-TDNkYXZY35yjPdeZ61SJFzhEG-3SdCH0LvgOh8nVnwMGwGDbfR3NRA6ccCIwN6v3qIiL-iFW/s800/2sml.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeL_SDLlmaRCOpyfGmRS_jw2JoEwwLhekGDzze5ml3UEmbwF8Z64Mer6pjgybrA_TcGEd7LCeKAbaQCrG0g99uzPIXZ9EIVj53YOSCVnfsScSQSEWF1f9-TDNkYXZY35yjPdeZ61SJFzhEG-3SdCH0LvgOh8nVnwMGwGDbfR3NRA6ccCIwN6v3qIiL-iFW/s320/2sml.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">I planned to finish trimming the wall yesterday, already the <b>third</b> day of 2024. At 7:00am, I was up so I could get it over and done with quickly before anyone spotted my ladder antics. To my dismay, my nemeses were already awake and banging stuff around in their yard. The only option was to beat a retreat.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It took me an agonising ninety minutes back inside to gather the courage to manicure the lawns, disregarding the degenerate roisterers. In the end, I prevailed and felt genuinely proud that my resolve had held.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This morning, the <b>fourth</b> of the year, I was up at 5:45am for a second go at clipping the creeper. I jumped at the chance when I found nobody stirring yet and finished snipping the monster back into shape in a record time of 25 minutes - no audience.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After that, I <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2021/12/traveling.html" target="_blank">traveled the world</a> from <a href="https://maps.app.goo.gl/WihFgxQKa58zEsr5A" target="_blank">Murmansk</a> to <a href="https://maps.app.goo.gl/NM9D7tpPMexqGowe9" target="_blank">Guadalcanal</a>, stopping off at interesting places I passed along the way until it was time to leave at 7:30am. My mission was to take Geoff for a much-needed shave and to have my own locks shorn on the way back home. Duly groomed, I embarked upon more travels when I returned to my desk. At 13:00 I drove to collect a spiffed-up Mr G.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The rest of the afternoon was spent compiling this lengthy chronicle.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Three productive days out of four can't be too bad a start to the year, right? With the end of my holiday break in sight, our side garden is certainly more pleasing to take in - by my hands. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXBCmMto8mRn15so_Mnm4nZErhnG80zGAvTxMne7HDP4w0h0PZV3DorxcL9iG4wJDQ-Zs0OFaUEPlNmiQlHkXC7yZnwHZd1qTt36CHmdHTMA0Ia0n0nfTEF0Q3vxj5pmEpfdYuL36bpDGJLbnJDr2zGPDeW7ran4v5jttlVOqGmpz0lOWov4cpFfmGkRiO/s800/3sml_20240104_132810.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXBCmMto8mRn15so_Mnm4nZErhnG80zGAvTxMne7HDP4w0h0PZV3DorxcL9iG4wJDQ-Zs0OFaUEPlNmiQlHkXC7yZnwHZd1qTt36CHmdHTMA0Ia0n0nfTEF0Q3vxj5pmEpfdYuL36bpDGJLbnJDr2zGPDeW7ran4v5jttlVOqGmpz0lOWov4cpFfmGkRiO/s320/3sml_20240104_132810.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Written by I</span></i></div></div>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-29907424404213246042023-12-31T15:02:00.003+02:002023-12-31T15:26:34.957+02:00bracing for impact<div style="text-align: justify;">If 2019 had been the year of <b><a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2019/03/a-sad-farewell.html" target="_blank">devastation</a></b>, 2020 followed as the year of <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2020/03/lockdown.html" target="_blank"><b>disease</b></a>. 2021 had doubtlessly been the year of delusional <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2021/08/the-leap-of-faith.html" target="_blank"><b>daring</b></a>. Then arrived 2022 - supposed to be the year of flourishing - but unexpectedly transforming into the year of <b>death </b>as the scourge ripped away three of our darling companions. <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/01/lebewohl-liebste-anna.html" target="_blank">Anna</a> - 12 January. <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/09/well-meet-again.html" target="_blank">Alfred</a> - 20 September. <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/09/she-comes-not-again.html" target="_blank">Elizabeth</a> - 24 September.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqkRjZ9CsnyRwVTDsNxM8S3Zp8EyDoEpw7dbSZfP1clLN7CcXDQ5pC3S6hUZmvgmDQf1JAuy_zJpphudc6jYClYYUVwQu1RwneOhh9uixenTzDelHzCe3El9CHqwBXnP-6YZn68teuPrO8LWoFrhBHCJ93CLzcOR0z2M0ZUxIf_MGof6AoxYMFA_j3CBOJ/s800/sml_20231231_110054.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqkRjZ9CsnyRwVTDsNxM8S3Zp8EyDoEpw7dbSZfP1clLN7CcXDQ5pC3S6hUZmvgmDQf1JAuy_zJpphudc6jYClYYUVwQu1RwneOhh9uixenTzDelHzCe3El9CHqwBXnP-6YZn68teuPrO8LWoFrhBHCJ93CLzcOR0z2M0ZUxIf_MGof6AoxYMFA_j3CBOJ/s320/sml_20231231_110054.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">2023 turned out as the year of <b>disillusionment</b> after a brief dash of hope as my life <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/01/divergence.html" target="_blank">diverged </a>from a certain connection with my dad.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">A year ago I was <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/01/tomorrow-shall-be-my-dancing-day.html" target="_blank">dancing</a> because I'd <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/12/conundrum-solved.html" target="_blank">managed to get my job back</a>. Even having to battle through the <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/01/damage-report.html" target="_blank">degenerate New Year celebrations</a> <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/12/here-we-go-again-again.html" target="_blank">on my own</a> could not depress me then. My new attitude rapidly dissolved, though, and I quickly became aware that nobody else in perdition had had a rethink. Nowadays I duly remind myself that I am only doing it for the dough. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As I have said <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/10/at-age-of-48.html" target="_blank">before</a>, I am darned dense sometimes - it took just about half a century before it started dawning on me that dreams are useless; engaging in the building of domiciles in the sky is a deranged waste of time. Much distress can be spared if you simply <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/10/jai-guru-deva-om.html" target="_blank">accept defeat and defer to the present state of affairs</a>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">That brings us up to date.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">For 2024, I have decided to declare my own destiny: it shall be the year of <b>daylight</b>. I am determined to discover the direction in which to drive towards the light. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As for New Year resolutions? I don't normally do those, since they are poorly contrived in the year-end upsweep and quickly develop into disappointment; however, speaking in general, I think we can all agree that drinking less is a decent idea.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Let there be light on the other side of tonight's descending damnation.</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Written by I</i></span></div>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-33618894959350711832023-12-29T16:33:00.008+02:002023-12-29T17:54:06.001+02:00the slut's wool factory<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><a href="https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/slut%27s_wool#:~:text=slut's%20wool%20(uncountable),such%20as%20under%20heavy%20furniture." target="_blank">slut's wool</a></b> - accumulated dust, fluff, hair, etc., that tends to occur indoors in areas not regularly dusted, such as under heavy furniture.</span></blockquote><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Some people call them <i>dust bunnies</i>; however, we have the rugged real McCoy here. Since <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/01/lebewohl-liebste-anna.html" target="_blank">Anna</a> and <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/09/well-meet-again.html" target="_blank">Alfred's</a> passing on, our brand of furry wool has gradually transformed from black to orange.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I had a lot of time to study it today - you see, we accomplished the unthinkable and actually cleaned our house for the first time in many, many months. Despite what my love declared <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/11/to-clean-or-not-to-clean.html" target="_blank">over a year ago</a> concerning cleaning, he agreed to help me with the mammoth task. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">About the wool? It is of high quality and, had there been a market for it, may have been a lucrative source of income. Sadly, it is completely worthless. The splendid specimen in the photo below was located in a rich deposit around the fridge.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7KvLU0Rjgt47ratRBuXsOI9G7M6ONATeQYLiQKmtNdNdqRGhb46Md6qTvo92NRSju-_XF-FvQiz7TRntZiQtKGHbcanUPbcXQXxhZhZ79aFsv8C4rzwGn3qXneWc00tdEKRyRqEOyYjIXCqZaWZgR6ivIbYNQ_UzG4r47ziG9wGZzc6oFpwD4xpe6dP_M/s800/sml_20231229_080449.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7KvLU0Rjgt47ratRBuXsOI9G7M6ONATeQYLiQKmtNdNdqRGhb46Md6qTvo92NRSju-_XF-FvQiz7TRntZiQtKGHbcanUPbcXQXxhZhZ79aFsv8C4rzwGn3qXneWc00tdEKRyRqEOyYjIXCqZaWZgR6ivIbYNQ_UzG4r47ziG9wGZzc6oFpwD4xpe6dP_M/s320/sml_20231229_080449.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Since it is a weekday, after all, we decided to schedule the beginning of the bangarang for 8:00am sharp. We were up way before that, though. By 6:00am, I was mincing down the aisles in Uitkyk on a light supply run. On the way there, I'd had to put in petrol at the BP garage where I dislike going since the jockeys are rude and unhelpful. This morning, I had no choice because my car had been complaining about fuel since the 24th on the journey home from a visit to Jane; the MBT where I usually fill up had zero petrol (diesel only) when I arrived there at 5:45am. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Despite the detour, I was back home at 6:36am with a significantly lighter wallet and just about half a bootful of food. We packed away the meagre vittles and hung around until the neighbourly time to commence with the racket. While waiting, I replaced the cats' litter and lined up our arsenal of mouldy chemicals for the imminent foray.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As soon as the agreed-upon hour arrived, I started dusting while The One vacuumed; when that was done, we switched hats - he scrubbed the grimy bathroom while I mopped the grimy floors.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Surprisingly, the ordeal was not as arduous as I'd imagined and at 10:20am I poured the last bucketful of filthy mop water down the drain. By no means is our tiny villa spotless - our overpriced mop, a Floorwiz Pro nogal, is just a smooth plastic sponge on a flimsy stick and is definitely not scrubby enough. Still, even <i>moderately</i> sponged is a grand improvement. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ_JHwVDmUPNmrxbp5xB0MfkM8jlTTTQ_FBCc1CBiwaPh7frHWngCGxCaW8DbVUXoj2Kff_gNjb6eGEdzyQkB2tpDS_S1sdWtc8sbTBWn3PtI0lCtJIn2JghmR3qf1PvHs7d_KO_K7YmTYiQE67C8HyL0mpDeq28fhjsp8oeKen32xbnDbVzWEPE9ENAWh/s428/floorwizz-zoom.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="378" data-original-width="428" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ_JHwVDmUPNmrxbp5xB0MfkM8jlTTTQ_FBCc1CBiwaPh7frHWngCGxCaW8DbVUXoj2Kff_gNjb6eGEdzyQkB2tpDS_S1sdWtc8sbTBWn3PtI0lCtJIn2JghmR3qf1PvHs7d_KO_K7YmTYiQE67C8HyL0mpDeq28fhjsp8oeKen32xbnDbVzWEPE9ENAWh/s320/floorwizz-zoom.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">My love knocked together a celebratory brunch when the dust started settling again - eggs and ham on buttered cheese buns. All morning, <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/05/meet-charles.html" target="_blank">Charles</a> had hidden in the garden, trying to escape the ear-piercing shrieks of the vacuum cleaner; having arrived here on May 26, he'd never encountered the electric banshee before. By the time we were eating, he'd crept back inside, wary and wide-eyed. We giggled when, upon noticing the clean floor, he performed his best impression of a writhing earthworm.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifHO15qeE_KqOFkHCHLK3cMPRFEAjvS7-d9mBSBwIK7tUVwRxD1KTtW3sgiQuzMBojNfa4kWKwWmhYIZBzjOWMnD6FqnYvV68lW2Cl2vUo_sbZJbQvunplNf0Gc0BM4KuJw-A6K8x1MUhCIXwJnHpZE_txttkWEolTKGQi6wp0bHG0zZu2hZ2YGzmRLW4O/s1024/20231229_103643a.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="455" data-original-width="1024" height="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifHO15qeE_KqOFkHCHLK3cMPRFEAjvS7-d9mBSBwIK7tUVwRxD1KTtW3sgiQuzMBojNfa4kWKwWmhYIZBzjOWMnD6FqnYvV68lW2Cl2vUo_sbZJbQvunplNf0Gc0BM4KuJw-A6K8x1MUhCIXwJnHpZE_txttkWEolTKGQi6wp0bHG0zZu2hZ2YGzmRLW4O/s320/20231229_103643a.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Not much later, we retired to bed for a well-deserved snooze. Charles already lay passed out serenely on his favourite chair. Something tells me he approves of his ameliorated surroundings.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRc_5ArOUbXRnTHjdK2uEsKqkPwohmrTVN20sfrH-rfx9zRHSNRHOqVvMCTFHP3lE0b5clExUAJHTpIeDgHz1q265CVPOnuECT8CJDu08AcXsP5WDJDXuwZt1nPH1hyphenhyphenueoKCHyRyUO8DynI3Agh653ZkKJDcIKU8EJIaycxQwf4lpRhv8kcIErBHu5MDPE/s800/sml_20231229_131926.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRc_5ArOUbXRnTHjdK2uEsKqkPwohmrTVN20sfrH-rfx9zRHSNRHOqVvMCTFHP3lE0b5clExUAJHTpIeDgHz1q265CVPOnuECT8CJDu08AcXsP5WDJDXuwZt1nPH1hyphenhyphenueoKCHyRyUO8DynI3Agh653ZkKJDcIKU8EJIaycxQwf4lpRhv8kcIErBHu5MDPE/s320/sml_20231229_131926.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">*</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">Now if we can just get this ungodly weekend and its hours of riotous carousing over and done with, all will be well in our world.</div><br /><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Written by I</i></span></div>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-62675739842659321622023-12-25T13:50:00.001+02:002023-12-29T17:13:34.049+02:00we all know how this ends<p style="text-align: center;"><span>We all know how this ends</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span>Up above the skylines</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span>Drifting in and out around us</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span>But I know you're here</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span>Can we rebuild everything?</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span>I can see the angel dust</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span>It's raining down upon us</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span>So I know we'll be safe</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span>We can rise through the fire</span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ew1tsek108" target="_blank">Tech Noir II - <b>Charlie Simpson & Gunship</b></a></span></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>The Ghosts of Christmas Past</b> began torturing me at dawn this morning. The One had been up for a while; it was raining as I lay in bed alone for an hour or two until I could muster the strength to drag my unsteady bones into this joyful day.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The gloomy weather reflects my miserable mood. <b>The Ghost of Christmas Present</b> menacingly directs me to dwell on the year-end <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2021/12/he-knows-if-youve-been-bad-or-good.html" target="_blank">holidays of my childhood</a>, when everyone I knew and loved was gathered under one roof to celebrate the season and each other. Remembering those who have departed, I am overtaken by intense stabs of tearful grief. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>The Ghosts of Christmas Future</b> join their spectral brothers to torment me with visions of the agonies yet to come. I'd give up a week of precious leave without hesitation if the next seven days could be over in an instant; the world, which is about to erupt into orgies of gratuitous violence, would return to decency forthright.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It may seem that I have nothing to celebrate today; however, that is not the case. I thank the universe that my very love is here with me today - he will be by my side for the week-long fracas that is soon to arrive. I<span style="text-align: left;"> celebrate my beautiful husband and the joy he brings.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV12Dofv5TNxIdSPok6cpgGCC5K99j0_O81QlYq7c-22A1wJpioqJkFsWf9JQ4qhl-D3NR0ybaRK7Q5tYZaSu80BBL6MJOdiL_1zz_MT7HRHxeQPyBQ1Ml6GC-s1l_iF-s9H_ogCafzcp7DnZSCh_SCa28oJ2L1D5vnJGlEKOhG2oGnrzGCrtCw8lKNrfj/s1024/sml_20231225_12372411.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="772" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV12Dofv5TNxIdSPok6cpgGCC5K99j0_O81QlYq7c-22A1wJpioqJkFsWf9JQ4qhl-D3NR0ybaRK7Q5tYZaSu80BBL6MJOdiL_1zz_MT7HRHxeQPyBQ1Ml6GC-s1l_iF-s9H_ogCafzcp7DnZSCh_SCa28oJ2L1D5vnJGlEKOhG2oGnrzGCrtCw8lKNrfj/s320/sml_20231225_12372411.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Written by I</span></i></div>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-66725824978239870142023-12-20T15:31:00.002+02:002023-12-20T15:43:41.234+02:00taking the day off<div style="text-align: justify;">I know it's only Wednesday, but it feels like an early weekend and I decided to post regardless of the day of the week.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After the familiar, increasingly frenzied year-end activity, perdition finally shut down for the holidays yesterday; today is, in fact, the very first of my twenty days of annual leave. In celebration, I graciously gave myself the day off. Surely setting about all my grand designs for things to do, to fix and to clean around here can wait a little?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was a late, late night and I only stumbled out of bed with bleary eyes after 9:00 this morning. The One doctored me with decent, strong coffee until I felt revived enough to settle at my desk and catch up on even more YouTube. Without scheduled load-shedding, I've fallen behind badly on my <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/11/to-clean-or-not-to-clean.html" target="_blank">war stories</a>. Perhaps tonight, instead of having my personal favourite kind of <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/12/the-jollo.html" target="_blank">jollo</a> online, I'll get those up-to-date.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I am in awe of my husband's unwavering devotion - whatever state I get myself into, he takes care of me and guides me back home. The darling man waits on me hand and foot, always making sure I have something to drink, something to inhale and something to nibble on. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It feels as if I am dreaming when I realise that I can go to bed at whatever time I choose, night or day, and sleep until I've had enough. More importantly, I won't have to fret about anything related to work for just about three weeks! I am genuinely grateful for these precious days and I look forward to sitting back, pressing reset and rebooting.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Just like me, the cats are in low gear today.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKHDA1rz9qLnpnSpDCwEjymHeLweI22Ck4Xm-FO5O__eDN4G8u_OG4CMqzROYlxOKW2YfTJHuVLPh1Xk8FmAx8Knkbai0c3BYqzVHe4egFGtsBVwIWdcYmgsrns2eeDcDfNBNpccGIm9kSPVw1TlYaOn5lfL9GU7TXx8U9wpjFTgs6HTn8HCojQzPTm5dK/s1024/IMG-20231220.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="1024" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKHDA1rz9qLnpnSpDCwEjymHeLweI22Ck4Xm-FO5O__eDN4G8u_OG4CMqzROYlxOKW2YfTJHuVLPh1Xk8FmAx8Knkbai0c3BYqzVHe4egFGtsBVwIWdcYmgsrns2eeDcDfNBNpccGIm9kSPVw1TlYaOn5lfL9GU7TXx8U9wpjFTgs6HTn8HCojQzPTm5dK/s320/IMG-20231220.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Don't let those innocent-looking phizes fool you, though. Both of them are in disgrace - a mere two days after I painstakingly cleaned up and replaced their bentonite, they've already made a disgusting mess of it. Someone has even dug out and scattered a turd or two.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'll clean up the shit tomorrow, for today is my day off. The ingrates are simply going to have to look at their own filth until the morrow... now, if <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/01/lebewohl-liebste-anna.html" target="_blank">Anna</a> and <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/09/well-meet-again.html" target="_blank">Alfred</a> were still around, there would certainly not have been a scrap of cat poop to be seen anywhere.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZGKbZyNelOSmXr1EJafPA7_16wkcroH0ong9g-fUrW9XopXoRb_9JjJW9eFQPAr5rVf3YqhajAqtcjca5FztPgRH0mDNPVpxqkvduDbmVMzkMyubu9AzUW40Lnki-b3RZ6BrwCPXQIghEDbKeVILv6v8N5CSW53JuSBw8Ar426nCBIb7HDcbRFHmNbdKC/s800/sml_20231220_131717.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZGKbZyNelOSmXr1EJafPA7_16wkcroH0ong9g-fUrW9XopXoRb_9JjJW9eFQPAr5rVf3YqhajAqtcjca5FztPgRH0mDNPVpxqkvduDbmVMzkMyubu9AzUW40Lnki-b3RZ6BrwCPXQIghEDbKeVILv6v8N5CSW53JuSBw8Ar426nCBIb7HDcbRFHmNbdKC/s320/sml_20231220_131717.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">*</div><div><br /></div><div>Let's hope twenty days will be enough time to glue back together the scattered shards of my life. The first day is more than half gone already and I have barely begun.</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Written by I</i></span></div>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-60037561009892720882023-12-17T20:14:00.000+02:002023-12-17T20:14:23.534+02:00the jollo<div style="text-align: justify;">As mentioned in my <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/12/persona-non-grata.html" target="_blank">post last week</a>, work's year-end <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=jollo+meaning&oq=&gs_lcrp=EgZjaHJvbWUqCQgGECMYJxjqAjIJCAAQIxgnGOoCMgkIARAjGCcY6gIyCQgCECMYJxjqAjIJCAMQIxgnGOoCMgkIBBAjGCcY6gIyCQgFECMYJxjqAjIJCAYQIxgnGOoCMgkIBxAjGCcY6gLSAQoxMzA4MTRqMWo3qAIIsAIB&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8" target="_blank">jollo</a> took place past Friday. I also named some reasons why I wasn't looking forward to the event.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It had been decided that we'd work until 12:00 on the day, even though it had been declared an impromptu public holiday when the Springboks won the Rugby World Cup. Still, we'll close one day earlier - this coming Tuesday - so there are no complaints from me. I only have two more days of fear and loathing left before the heaven-sent holidays arrive.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">When we left the shop around 12:30, I was ordered to give one of my fellow workers a lift to the venue - a dusty little smallholding out on Lynnwood Road extension, close to Boschkop.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilCUEj7dO4Sbb8ZWAtRh5r-m4rMD5BnUdDuX3qnjU-a5P-ZKp_BTEVEhWQPtKiabLdY2kg2fqOacQBiHh1rq6JhMY9QFxVFIxB5C6fc902Q9xNtECKr2QutOxeVvcMlfDuCPkU-uPOQs9tGVw1bGyJXtdUjbW89kcz-gLC94nKH0BlBcLEsaVmMuxyAgAa/s800/sml_20231215_132346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilCUEj7dO4Sbb8ZWAtRh5r-m4rMD5BnUdDuX3qnjU-a5P-ZKp_BTEVEhWQPtKiabLdY2kg2fqOacQBiHh1rq6JhMY9QFxVFIxB5C6fc902Q9xNtECKr2QutOxeVvcMlfDuCPkU-uPOQs9tGVw1bGyJXtdUjbW89kcz-gLC94nKH0BlBcLEsaVmMuxyAgAa/s320/sml_20231215_132346.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We'd been presented with a choice of three activities on offer there - wall climbing, go-kart racing and horse riding. While the others excitedly ticked boxes, I drew an embittered black line on the form where we had to indicate which ones we'd like to participate in. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">My co-workers had great fun, consuming copious amounts of various types of beer and pre-mixed bottles. I abstained for once; in some situations, I cannot afford to let my guard down. My trustworthy <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=rbf+meaning&oq=rbf+meaning&gs_lcrp=EgZjaHJvbWUyEQgAEEUYORhDGLEDGIAEGIoFMgcIARAAGIAEMgcIAhAAGIAEMgcIAxAAGIAEMgcIBBAAGIAEMgcIBRAAGIAEMgcIBhAAGIAEMgcIBxAAGIAEMgcICBAAGIAEMgcICRAAGIAEqAIAsAIA&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8" target="_blank">RBF</a> stood me in good stead once again, keeping the soused lot from engaging with me. I completed the unapproachable look with my never-worn Police prescription sunglasses, which came with my regular ones five years ago.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGhQlMfvWY2GgN1WX36frG-JkgNFGX5EdC1kjyxqwZ0szjY8TVHPAEHagMjmHi_z69iZrNYniA3FCeh4fEzCns4utO9468SdIUh2GqigOfG5n3Vdn_v91n4RKAAN8bmLVQuMEU_Wx4MN8R3RKxepTUlQsjRr-W31cyQ_oEkNkglw9kz3knVtLjRPw-Amb9/s800/sml_20231215_130453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGhQlMfvWY2GgN1WX36frG-JkgNFGX5EdC1kjyxqwZ0szjY8TVHPAEHagMjmHi_z69iZrNYniA3FCeh4fEzCns4utO9468SdIUh2GqigOfG5n3Vdn_v91n4RKAAN8bmLVQuMEU_Wx4MN8R3RKxepTUlQsjRr-W31cyQ_oEkNkglw9kz3knVtLjRPw-Amb9/s320/sml_20231215_130453.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Flying under the radar, I stuck to the group as they moved from activity to activity. The shenanigans took longer than expected and it was well past 15:00, as I was about to pass out from hunger, when we could finally eat. Good thing I was so ravenous; the long-awaited food turned out to be pretty bland and overdone; even so, I polished my plate. Never say "no" to a free meal.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIPlBfdB_d-ARdWQ2D8ddzaLjOeVixiQwm0UnYg721XeuNBd4U2Fd-lOjEQedAXGkBRubOKA4azcH-AfzoAkmNwYJWh5nSHzrbbQ1zto6WMF7vP_4ylIruj9p4rOvqdGRxgsjOLTNY-xd_sExzSZ1Fw90bLxCvYO2v6NusBTw9bbHq7wyE61istBeWp0pF/s800/sml_20231215_151616.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIPlBfdB_d-ARdWQ2D8ddzaLjOeVixiQwm0UnYg721XeuNBd4U2Fd-lOjEQedAXGkBRubOKA4azcH-AfzoAkmNwYJWh5nSHzrbbQ1zto6WMF7vP_4ylIruj9p4rOvqdGRxgsjOLTNY-xd_sExzSZ1Fw90bLxCvYO2v6NusBTw9bbHq7wyE61istBeWp0pF/s320/sml_20231215_151616.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I was ordered to drop off two more colleagues when I left at 16:30; the rest were still living it up. Do you know how to stop people from constantly asking you for lifts? Drive like a maniac when they're in the car.</div><div><br /></div><div><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Written by I</span></i></div>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-53925143730243108662023-12-10T20:47:00.000+02:002023-12-10T20:47:09.848+02:00persona non grata<div style="text-align: justify;">I started noticing the cats acting somewhat strangely at the beginning of last week. I got the distinct feeling that I'd done something to upset them. Neither of them cared to be touched, they'd stomp off in a huff as soon as I came too close. Both of them also refused to eat their usual soft and squishy canned Pamper for dinner on Tuesday. I tried a fresh can, to no avail.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">Like my own, I ascribed their grouchiness to the unwavering high temperatures.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">On Wednesday, work was so frenzied that I had no time to play middleman any longer; I sent a client directly to a supplier when he had issues with his job to save everyone time and frustration.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The boss, upon being informed, exploded in a fit of rage and harshly reprimanded me right there and then, within earshot of the entire shop. I kept my pose but set off to the bathroom as soon as its fury subsided because I was on the verge of bursting into tears. What a brutal place to spend 11 hours a day!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Now imagine how much I am looking forward to making merry with these thankless people at the year-end function on Friday.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I quickly banished the cats' evil moods with a rite of catnip on Thursday night when my love was at band practice; by the time he was back home, all was well. Charles overdid partaking of the herb; in a trance, he claimed my phone as his own plaything.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivdVbw8UTY8QejBOtunAyM9r-xcVcxECdB2slYXztt-o-RxCs37Oal1fkQb2gs9xGljZFt5eWG-YNLRhPJbKoyN7vZ2BZ9-y0H9xATHUqxXo0NMyLAJCDK5ey9vXo4p66_6Veciki2ZAEdiKNrnV6iGZSdcqq5SBynt-dGmidzSzD4z-Tph-N1yNZs9pfh/s800/sml-20231207-WA0007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivdVbw8UTY8QejBOtunAyM9r-xcVcxECdB2slYXztt-o-RxCs37Oal1fkQb2gs9xGljZFt5eWG-YNLRhPJbKoyN7vZ2BZ9-y0H9xATHUqxXo0NMyLAJCDK5ey9vXo4p66_6Veciki2ZAEdiKNrnV6iGZSdcqq5SBynt-dGmidzSzD4z-Tph-N1yNZs9pfh/s320/sml-20231207-WA0007.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>And what enchantment shall I use to get back into the good books at work?</div><div><br /></div><div><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Written by I</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-40322039961168196892023-12-03T17:34:00.003+02:002023-12-03T19:30:21.977+02:00a post from purgatory, deuxième partie<div style="text-align: justify;">I guess shouldn't have complained about the relentless heat <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/11/a-post-from-purgatory.html" target="_blank">last week</a>, for the universe has granted us a diabolical <i>third </i>heatwave with only a brief respite of two cool days.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It's been rather a catharsis to realise my ignorance - taking just about half a century to grok that this is simply the way our realm functions. In short, irksome things must be tolerated until they vanish. Kicking and screaming, or even civilly complaining, results in the inevitable, infinite and immediate repetition of the lesson.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Two more cases in point exist - our odious neighbours blaring their abrasive, intolerable music, and the long-lasting effects of the machinations of more than one caustic she-devil at work. E.g. - just this week, an upsetting, angry list circulated there, featuring the use of seething red handwriting and outraged highlighting, to demonstrate how incompetent it perceives us to be:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBvITFL7lnqVoBcIdSpKiNluHL7IUsB2beJ5-ywpYz_YUcwXYYHTIoOvTdGXS6xYlHB0UcMFT6GzTI4X5kvigSJ3xfE5nQ-EjZtuGY5awBnvGx889GF3PMODT-z3Vsk2fgWRnpAEkXus362x0Le4jd18hbBgf0MExvd1mgP-WkSpCn4liXY5wlpZLZOEvU/s800/sml1_20231130_090022.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBvITFL7lnqVoBcIdSpKiNluHL7IUsB2beJ5-ywpYz_YUcwXYYHTIoOvTdGXS6xYlHB0UcMFT6GzTI4X5kvigSJ3xfE5nQ-EjZtuGY5awBnvGx889GF3PMODT-z3Vsk2fgWRnpAEkXus362x0Le4jd18hbBgf0MExvd1mgP-WkSpCn4liXY5wlpZLZOEvU/s320/sml1_20231130_090022.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>The acrid note ends with, "Before anyone goes home."</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The universe is not unkind, though. My husband may well be six years my junior, but he's forged his way far beyond my modest progress on the treacherous path to enlightenment. To my mind, the gods assigned him to be my gentle guardian, my sage guide and my stalwart anchor when I'm about to slip over the edge.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Yesterday was a complete waste and I vegetated for most of the day - probably because I only tottered into bed after The One got up at 3:30. After hours of fitful rest fraught with psychedelic nightmares, I put in a perfunctory appearance at 9:00 for a coffee and a vape. Five minutes later I retreated back to safety in bed until 13:00.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I may have overdone self-medicating; having said that, I blame the feeling of being heavily hung over on inflamed, swampish sinuses and an alarming shingle-like gash across the bottom left of my bulky front, beneath my growing belly. I slapped it with the very last squeezings from a tube of Covarex, saved for just such an occasion, in the hope that it was fungal.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Lion Lager is out of stock everywhere and I've had to revert back to much more expensive Castle Lite, wreaking havoc on my personal ecosystem (and our finances).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">When I finally came up for air, my love attended me hand and foot, serving lunch where I was more-or-less slumped at my desk; he even sorted out the washing and the dishes. On top of that, the sweetheart proceeded to cook dinner - decadent wors and potatoes with oodles of thick brown onion gravy - because I never got around to brewing a batch of <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/05/of-stew.html" target="_blank">stew</a>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Before bed last night I played Sims for a change - the first time since July. If it takes 10,000 hours to make you an expert, I'm more than halfway there. I wish that something I'm half good at could be made into a job I'd want to go to.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitlDmXiWBSe1vpN9p2rgzxk9-0GLXi6jRnsNOhbHtaZIfHxzBiYKPAMovtyWl8xgiJ-TXXvy42Nlpm8G2028XGaAxm8grRW_fd92FMmPJaqN9AN-9xh0tmtP1E3vohdhQevhxjehmFQB-m_51642jM_hceTXA8I6NyRoE8KvvpiJGXnUxKAfHwctFrAcYY/s1024/sims.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="441" data-original-width="1024" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitlDmXiWBSe1vpN9p2rgzxk9-0GLXi6jRnsNOhbHtaZIfHxzBiYKPAMovtyWl8xgiJ-TXXvy42Nlpm8G2028XGaAxm8grRW_fd92FMmPJaqN9AN-9xh0tmtP1E3vohdhQevhxjehmFQB-m_51642jM_hceTXA8I6NyRoE8KvvpiJGXnUxKAfHwctFrAcYY/s320/sims.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Caught in what seems to be a downward spiral, at least today I managed to not be completely useless. I left with my man at 8:30 - him off to Jane at her new home a stone's throw away from my work, and I off for fuel and the last bit of groceries at Shoprite to see us over for the month. I was back home at 9:40, again managing to <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/11/hast-du-eine-kippe.html" target="_blank">dodge the fags</a>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I also cooked stew, took care of both of the cats' indoor latrines and dumped the trash outside for collection tomorrow. Garden duty consisted of picking up an overripe lemon on the way to the bin.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Before finishing this post tonight, I watered the parched garden and prettified my bushy beard before having a "<a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/07/an-icy-birthday.html" target="_blank">shower</a>".</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">My love calmly directs me when my tangents get out of hand:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><blockquote><span style="font-size: large;">This is how it is now, and nothing about it can be altered. Remember that this, too, shall pass.</span></blockquote></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Yes, we'll have a chuckle about wearing next-to-nothing again when we find ourselves wrapped in blankets and ensconced in jackets plus sweatpants in a couple of months. On each of our laps, there'll be a purry, toasty cat, with a woolly Maltese ferreted away somewhere in the folds. The use of any kind of fan will have been outlawed. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Sadly, the realisation of that vision of heaven is still far off. For now, I continue to exist in agonising purgatory - both on this blazing rock and in my troubled, troubled mind.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ignoring the fleeting monsters that appear around me, I'll attempt to battle this beast called Impatience, in anticipation of the day when my myriad of sins will have been consumed by the fiery chasms and I arise spotless.</div><div><br /></div><div><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Written by I</span></i></div>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-23711914621200988782023-11-26T20:42:00.002+02:002023-11-26T21:06:53.117+02:00a post from purgatory<div style="text-align: justify;">This early in the season, we're already on the <i>second </i>relentless heatwave! I can't be doing with another four months of this shit; can anyone give me the number of the complaints department?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">On Thursday, to add to my burdens, there were <i>three</i> no-shows at work. The company vehicle was not at work as a result and I had to use my own car to go see a client. The rest of the day blurred into a fetid brown smear; on top of that, when I got home after the chaos there was no electricity. My love was at band practice and I made a plan to get my brewskis cold, ensconcing the precious cans in still-frozen icepacks from the deep freeze.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I felt a little better when I checked the map of reported outages and realised that half of Pretoria was suffering along with me.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7RpUkaDlUm9-WsRAGF0n5Swzt0kxubIwlAqLF5czNz8sYTf4GjICsFOp4O6TQs68A3Ou_GzFksEHP_tdYsGU-VigveGLVv7FZnPKTqSBuLyTN-nyWd6ImniFMviYcrd1Qqcv6l4ZSFLntzHum9WQPwAtpu3KuPYeX8jXDW_ME7UqzGOgfn4IbQAkEjugN/s747/sml_Screenshot_20231123_194719_Chrome.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="747" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7RpUkaDlUm9-WsRAGF0n5Swzt0kxubIwlAqLF5czNz8sYTf4GjICsFOp4O6TQs68A3Ou_GzFksEHP_tdYsGU-VigveGLVv7FZnPKTqSBuLyTN-nyWd6ImniFMviYcrd1Qqcv6l4ZSFLntzHum9WQPwAtpu3KuPYeX8jXDW_ME7UqzGOgfn4IbQAkEjugN/s320/sml_Screenshot_20231123_194719_Chrome.jpg" width="257" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><blockquote><span style="font-size: large;">I lazed about before I had dinner, mumbling a curse every so often in case that would make the power come back on.</span></blockquote></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I gave up when I became hungry - I declined to warm up my chow since that would involve going through all the trouble of digging out a saucepan and then heating the food on the gas stove. Instead, I decided to have it directly from the fridge. In this regard, my recommendation is <i>against </i>eating frigid rice bedaubed with congealed stew. I could only stomach a couple of mouthfuls - I put the leftovers back in the fridge for a midnight snack (by which time there would hopefully be electricity again) before giving myself a pointless wash.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Do you also hate it when you are drenched in perspiration as soon as you get out of the shower, even if it had been an ice-cold one? I didn't even bother putting on my nightshirt, for it would be soaked within minutes. I gave the universe the middle finger and settled at my desk where I sipped deliciously cool Lion Lager and caught up on my <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/11/to-clean-or-not-to-clean.html" target="_blank">war stories</a>. From time to time I furiously fanned new damp spots with a plastic hand fan.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The electricity flickered back on at the stroke of 21:00, minutes before my husband let me know he was on his way home.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Yesterday morning I was up at 7:00, having had a fretful night that featured little meaningful sleep. For the first time in weeks, the diabolical neighbours to the north had had a booze-up with powerful beats that lasted the entire goddamned night.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I hung about until 8:00 when I dutifully mowed and manicured the lawns. I suppose I'm getting back into the routine; I was done with everything squared away in less than an hour. Good thing too, because I still had to pop off to Shoprite for cat litter (<a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/11/hast-du-eine-kippe.html" target="_blank">again</a>) and <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/05/of-stew.html" target="_blank">stew</a> ingredients - both required rather urgently.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">During my efforts in the garden, I noticed what looked like a little puddle of blood with some spattering, directly outside the window on my side of the bed. I called my hubby to have a look, but he didn't think it was blood. What the hell is it then? And who the hell is practising the occult a couple of meters from where I sleep?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq9_tMU6PlR6DX_DsCGwfkwIp2oRF49cIEvX5AQVfqhTWqu5xXvC3ec0s6ct6AW_ZLJ_asr3GuhqmytfvBkur1dQygQfXLe8BdMxXcA7-2BWhXqbTxWpLjGiCwszXy9BT0Z8E0YTOAvqTckEKQHoTAutbcVVBJe4UnK37-aBcDc4hmEDYpcl-LHU5pMhLe/s800/sml_20231125_082853.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq9_tMU6PlR6DX_DsCGwfkwIp2oRF49cIEvX5AQVfqhTWqu5xXvC3ec0s6ct6AW_ZLJ_asr3GuhqmytfvBkur1dQygQfXLe8BdMxXcA7-2BWhXqbTxWpLjGiCwszXy9BT0Z8E0YTOAvqTckEKQHoTAutbcVVBJe4UnK37-aBcDc4hmEDYpcl-LHU5pMhLe/s320/sml_20231125_082853.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Anyway, I gave my arms and face a cursory rinse and dusted my feet before I set off on my supply run. I usually visit Shoprite just after opening time, because I prefer it when it's still deserted and serene; yesterday morning at 9:15, however, it was abustle with activity and hundreds of people scurried about to get their hands on the best of the unclaimed Black Friday deals. After grabbing the handful of items I needed, I had to stand in the slow-moving queue at the checkout for more than ten minutes.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This time, I made sure some fags didn't <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/11/hast-du-eine-kippe.html" target="_blank">follow me home</a> again; I stared down the shiny packs that were in my face at the counter where I got The One and I each a greasy pie for breakfast - another ten-minute queue.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">By then the sun was blazing; after I got home I didn't step outside for the rest of the day. I engaged the enemy in COH2 for an epic, two-hour-long battle before taking a very unsatisfying, clammy snooze with two droopy cats and a wilted Maltese. Even the pets hate these ridiculously high temperatures, constantly looking for the coolest spot to occupy.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Once more, the rain gods have left us to our own devices and in the late afternoon, I watered the garden; incredibly, my <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2019/10/climate-change-how-to-make-your-dreams.html" target="_blank">DIY irrigation</a> still functions perfectly. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">For whatever reason, I slept somewhat better last night. I only dragged myself out of bed at 7:45 this morning because, <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/11/vive-le-roi.html" target="_blank">unlike last weekend</a>, I had actually brought a job home to work on. Ostensibly, I'll be paid for my time... we'll see how that plays out. In any case, the work in question was the intricate layout of a custom student diary for a prestigious school east of Pretoria. Thankfully, I've done this particular job so many times that it was a walk in the park, albeit a five-hour one.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">At 12:00 I took a break and quickly got a batch of <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/05/of-stew.html" target="_blank">stew</a> brewing. It was actually my turn for the dishes too, but then my gentle love said he'd wash them so I could finish my work. I don't deserve such devotion; I blew him a sweaty kiss.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Before returning to my computer, I swiftly cleaned the cats' litter and took out the trash. Our asinine neighbours had started with their bloody devilry again at 11:00, pumping out the beats non-stop. They are quickly draining what little fortitude I have in reserve.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In this version of my life, I exist in purgatory. Will I emerge as white as snow on the other side, purged from all the evil that clings to me?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Written by I</span></i></div>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-12548704646362891522023-11-19T12:23:00.002+02:002023-12-25T13:12:08.182+02:00hast du eine kippe?<p style="text-align: center;">Hast du eine kippe?</p><p style="text-align: center;">Bist du bescheuert?</p><p style="text-align: center;">Ich frage nur.</p><p style="text-align: center;">Ich auch.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /><i>Do you have a fag?</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Are you crazy?</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Just asking.</i></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Me too.</i></p><p style="text-align: right;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wwZbonjAlPc" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Sorry I'm late</span></a> - <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wwZbonjAlPc" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Kollektiv Turmstraße</b></span></a></p><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As I mentioned in <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/11/vive-le-roi.html" target="_blank">yesterday's post</a>, my love is off on a visit to Jane. I left home when he did, around 8:30, to go in search of cat litter - Makro had been out of stock when I'd been on a trip there earlier in the week.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Like toilet paper, cat litter isn't really something you can do without.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">For one reason or another, unlike during winter, the cats use their indoor latrines exclusively nowadays. They simply ignore the garden, which means their litter needs replacing even more often than usual.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I drove to Spar first because it's closer; however, to my shock, they only stocked their house brand - at an exorbitant R143 for a 5kg sack. Does anyone know why plain cat litter is suddenly in high demand?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Anyway, I left the store in a huff and got back in my car to go see if Shoprite could do better. On my way there, I discovered something in my pocket - a pack of Chesterfield Menthols. I have no idea how it got there since I certainly did not buy any goddamned fags. I'm convinced the shifty-looking car guard slipped them in my pocket when I wasn't paying attention. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9wBzksm5PtBehL8HHuIz_RapTosockRO-M2I8T0zh6GW_VuQBEnWOKGKgMBN8rwikKqWjee43JuNtmv5rsUsNE8-xZHBSVgQT1xJVsQfDgy4hBMzQ9SkpsG1RzvDG0GCwoid8Z5P3ccMkY9qdVXSItGQj9yC45PIePqvDMSkEsDHEeBRbU5SayvhiclX8/s800/sml_20231119_103908.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9wBzksm5PtBehL8HHuIz_RapTosockRO-M2I8T0zh6GW_VuQBEnWOKGKgMBN8rwikKqWjee43JuNtmv5rsUsNE8-xZHBSVgQT1xJVsQfDgy4hBMzQ9SkpsG1RzvDG0GCwoid8Z5P3ccMkY9qdVXSItGQj9yC45PIePqvDMSkEsDHEeBRbU5SayvhiclX8/s320/sml_20231119_103908.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Hey, at least he got the right flavour.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">At Shoprite I grabbed the last bag of Bob Martin's fancifully named <i>Felight </i>off the shelf, priced at a much more reasonable R75. I'd have bought more if there were any.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Back home I did the washing and the dishes before tackling the reeking litter trays. As soon as I was done, first Mary and then Charles made use of the pristine bentonite. The <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/10/of-productive-weekend.html" target="_blank">Froot</a> gets carried away when covering his poop; he scattered litter all over the floor where I'd just cleaned.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Ll3AvNF_iQK-04Gv9o27rAFcAMewA5dHWr7z8Fko9pBl7LQ9ybmRYtcnWbLEruwu4Z9FxdKQtXgBdaGOScLklbiTPlSvGLsmZf2AO_592_b1IjfiZoAjk8IW2HWJCboaWLs6shx7x-BxXf2yBPXnYn6ziog5WlpYkT89sJ-0xxWcmXealAzvO1qMYryf/s1024/sml_20231119_102621.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Ll3AvNF_iQK-04Gv9o27rAFcAMewA5dHWr7z8Fko9pBl7LQ9ybmRYtcnWbLEruwu4Z9FxdKQtXgBdaGOScLklbiTPlSvGLsmZf2AO_592_b1IjfiZoAjk8IW2HWJCboaWLs6shx7x-BxXf2yBPXnYn6ziog5WlpYkT89sJ-0xxWcmXealAzvO1qMYryf/s320/sml_20231119_102621.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I chased him off to go bird-watching outside and cleaned up again. I even dug out the fresh, steamy turds under the watchful gaze of <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/08/the-orange-cat.html" target="_blank">the orange cat</a> and discarded them with the rest of the trash in the bin.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">All the while I could hear something softly calling my name. I realised it was the unopened pack of fags, so I put it out of its misery.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Written by I</i></span></div>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-63465537121689642112023-11-18T15:35:00.000+02:002023-11-18T15:35:35.764+02:00vive le roi<div style="text-align: justify;">Right now, I am hideously overburdened at work; I was even supposed to bring a number of jobs home this weekend to try and catch up. As things stand, however, I've been feeling so burnt out that I decided to put myself first for a change and didn't bring any work with me when I locked up the shop yesterday afternoon.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Bedtime was absurdly early last night - my love wasn't even totally asleep when I crawled into bed next to him just before 23:00. Today, I am not feeling hungover from lack of sleep and other nocturnal foibles... more's the pity. I haven't had a drop of medication since Thursday evening when my love was at band practice and I was supposed to publish the short post below.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Wide awake at 6:00, I worried about my dereliction of duty while I had coffee and a puff. Thank the gods of nicotine that we have properly spiked vape juice again; <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/11/of-this-and-of-that-partie-trois.html" target="_blank">smoking fags</a> for just a short while has seriously embedded us in the red until payday.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I found myself considering driving to work to go and fetch the most urgent jobs I had to finish. I stopped that train of thought right away by transporting myself to the <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2021/03/1.html" target="_blank">COH2 universe</a> - an extremely efficient way to take my stubborn mind off worrying. According to Steam, up until now, I've spent 1,021 hours waging war there - leaving my sorrows behind at the same time.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Having beaten the virtual Nazis to an agreeable pulp, I took an extended nap from 9:30 until well past noon when I was sore all over from spending so much time in bed.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It is the deuce of a thing to keep worrying under control. Tomorrow, my husband will be off early for his weekly visit to Jane; I do wonder what kind of monkey business I'll get up to so that I can continue to forget my troubles.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Anyway, here is that overdue post.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">A couple of weeks ago the British High Commission commissioned a handful of lapel pins for King Charles' upcoming birthday on 14 November. On this day every year, a local event is hosted in honour of the monarch.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The design brief included that either a Windsor Grey horse or a Greyling fish should be incorporated and that both the South African flag and that of the United Kingdom should feature prominently.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAeHzrxXnqKQ9eE8Nv-jy_aUZ64lKb_a3wyKVPqEkeVHvLntbI65b6CRmjyc2Rqpe1Fmn3HYTgVbBfkc941u0D3uGYYMQEVVUPspoolZNI8C0cJLvW4ipNX8nluF83udFupeejf8zGidVMvsIiRPqHoqRIPBwhRPamNDNE8ZxsZQFVLVy0EBqFptzQT_iA/s824/BHC%20lapel%20pins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="824" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAeHzrxXnqKQ9eE8Nv-jy_aUZ64lKb_a3wyKVPqEkeVHvLntbI65b6CRmjyc2Rqpe1Fmn3HYTgVbBfkc941u0D3uGYYMQEVVUPspoolZNI8C0cJLvW4ipNX8nluF83udFupeejf8zGidVMvsIiRPqHoqRIPBwhRPamNDNE8ZxsZQFVLVy0EBqFptzQT_iA/s320/BHC%20lapel%20pins.jpg" width="298" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Because I constantly have too much to attend to, it was left so late that I barely had two hours when I finally got to the design; even so, I came up with a respectable four options. The client quickly approved option one and the gears were set in motion for the mass production of the pins.</div></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinF3gD0NMJygmj_Dln90YrjUW6_dw5iPW1-upNUqF1-0IoHBqrcIcpKQpNf0ntpcOFE7CWyTqOtb58-Dl5ljqPOxYBOpMlm8NkMezS4564SmXVh_mCirjxGmkezniMktc3AI37I-1YDJ2qO1weAZgBnHhi-wjvkYAT0j6BWXtkPsrCEsHYSDPSO6k3WFDb/s1024/sml%2020231114_114124.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinF3gD0NMJygmj_Dln90YrjUW6_dw5iPW1-upNUqF1-0IoHBqrcIcpKQpNf0ntpcOFE7CWyTqOtb58-Dl5ljqPOxYBOpMlm8NkMezS4564SmXVh_mCirjxGmkezniMktc3AI37I-1YDJ2qO1weAZgBnHhi-wjvkYAT0j6BWXtkPsrCEsHYSDPSO6k3WFDb/s320/sml%2020231114_114124.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">The Brits were extremely pleased with the end result, though before I could present them with the glittering half-orbs, I had to have 90% of the domes redone - due to sloppy work by my so-called teammates.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Perhaps His Majesty might see one of the pins someday. Adding a special touch, I incorporated his royal cypher without having been asked for its inclusion.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhue66aXSqOb8zA3FmiVzWKubfB2fkrXgv2zPzQTYFrfy6kuHihbBmwO0bTJZC72ktTR8V-8kyuTZeoYTCGhlWbw57QNIVDZNX8RlM-IyMFvKcaoJGgdYKqsaNv9mnn0k1cfyQyIT3Q3DHiKSF0tHWs9ucHzinzxCn-JcyNRNGiQPFHTUbuNHKSQHKh6J/s635/CRIII%20royal%20cypher.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="635" data-original-width="385" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhue66aXSqOb8zA3FmiVzWKubfB2fkrXgv2zPzQTYFrfy6kuHihbBmwO0bTJZC72ktTR8V-8kyuTZeoYTCGhlWbw57QNIVDZNX8RlM-IyMFvKcaoJGgdYKqsaNv9mnn0k1cfyQyIT3Q3DHiKSF0tHWs9ucHzinzxCn-JcyNRNGiQPFHTUbuNHKSQHKh6J/s320/CRIII%20royal%20cypher.jpg" width="194" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>So it's a happy birthday from this disintegrating colony, your majesty. Vive le roi.</div><div><br /></div><div><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Written by I</span></i></div><div><br /></div>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-55886669272610942332023-11-11T15:58:00.002+02:002023-11-11T16:35:46.743+02:00gardening 302<div style="text-align: justify;">I am glad to be able to report that my apparent ennui of the <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/11/of-this-and-of-that-partie-trois.html" target="_blank">last three weekends</a> has dissipated a little.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Despite a very late night - it was almost dawn when I crawled into bed - I was up again at 7:30 this morning to mow the lawns. Everything was ready a minute or two before 8:00 and I revved up my faithful lawnmower, sending clouds of dust billowing. Sun-baked despite the recent rain, the grass had grown thick and bushy and it was tough going.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Even so, the results are a great reward as always.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeQMbSMNvloImkgLG9C7zMv2JM9JjxsetZXrzSVirWLwOHJA-MoxQBADIpeLMuSPHt2V6ueplcO8h18M8wB2YZeh7ov7Y1JQw3UNYA6EJo17X-bQPCn5Pd8yQlySN7iPHZ5jh_wXBZXLjAgx-lKcHWrARin5-kjF5EAP5VGG8fvAd73qvKeLeBLLNBgf26/s1024/sml_20231111_145920.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeQMbSMNvloImkgLG9C7zMv2JM9JjxsetZXrzSVirWLwOHJA-MoxQBADIpeLMuSPHt2V6ueplcO8h18M8wB2YZeh7ov7Y1JQw3UNYA6EJo17X-bQPCn5Pd8yQlySN7iPHZ5jh_wXBZXLjAgx-lKcHWrARin5-kjF5EAP5VGG8fvAd73qvKeLeBLLNBgf26/s320/sml_20231111_145920.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The cats concede that our neat little patio is a pleasant place once more; it is quite unusual to capture both of them in one shot.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was still before 9:00 when I'd finished sweeping up the last of the grass clippings. I had a quick debate about whether I should or shouldn't, but then I <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2020/02/just-do-it.html" target="_blank">just did it</a> without thinking about it too much; grabbing my trusty Ryobi hedge trimmer, I trimmed the jasmine hedge along the driveway - a chore I'd originally planned for tomorrow.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">More good results ensued. <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/10/of-productive-weekend.html" target="_blank">Didn't I say those weeds would have vanished the next time you saw the driveway</a>?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWJU6xWd1TMQKmwlEWgLYUxSaMexKnOrggc7CSGZoF6NCFNjNyYKITayabqNokwAlWX175GZu-0XDQJuQTLiTKJsw2oD3csRJEzefbEE4lipS4NGtzyMIkfQ7lWkM7AmmpprZVNFaZkpFKBOhS3PDnUcOn8he_hnD8E_Y6am4_wmmoFcYZ7GajLSlbwzfM/s1024/sml_20231111_150909.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWJU6xWd1TMQKmwlEWgLYUxSaMexKnOrggc7CSGZoF6NCFNjNyYKITayabqNokwAlWX175GZu-0XDQJuQTLiTKJsw2oD3csRJEzefbEE4lipS4NGtzyMIkfQ7lWkM7AmmpprZVNFaZkpFKBOhS3PDnUcOn8he_hnD8E_Y6am4_wmmoFcYZ7GajLSlbwzfM/s320/sml_20231111_150909.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Now I won't have to swerve so wildly anymore when I reverse out in the morning, trying to avoid my side mirror getting caught in the bushy jasmine. A couple of weeks ago I drove into the boundary wall; to my great and constant shame, I gave my precious <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2019/08/la-voiture-dargent.html" target="_blank">car</a> a nasty scrape on its graceful snout.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw-8KZkeSYFGy5b9iVCia3d-1nPJj13GVREHNAm8mCcN1hiffq7r1k69p-DOAKQI5HGXURYKsQBjt53P-Uygeg5x69J7-drD8sMJkGRE6JxqQoPYrt19XDRqbysnKrxYpy86R5w3sqtrabqK39VEGJ5J-OGFEcXldoz40uRHNONEsmRwOq_XpbAyibIOSN/s1024/sml_20231111_150937.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw-8KZkeSYFGy5b9iVCia3d-1nPJj13GVREHNAm8mCcN1hiffq7r1k69p-DOAKQI5HGXURYKsQBjt53P-Uygeg5x69J7-drD8sMJkGRE6JxqQoPYrt19XDRqbysnKrxYpy86R5w3sqtrabqK39VEGJ5J-OGFEcXldoz40uRHNONEsmRwOq_XpbAyibIOSN/s320/sml_20231111_150937.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">All done by 9:45, I had a splash and a wipe down. Having a puff afterwards, I realised that perhaps I'd been hasty in declaring that <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/09/workeatsleep.html" target="_blank">hard work never pays off</a>. If only for a short while, at least the outside of our house looks fairly presentable - a change bought about by the sweat of my brow.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm not sure if that is even something to be proud of.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Written by I</i></span></div>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-6896357214081522872023-11-05T15:57:00.001+02:002023-11-05T16:21:39.904+02:00of this and of that, partie troisYet another wasted weekend. I'll use <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2020/07/karen.html" target="_blank">Karen</a>'s congruous words once more:<div><br /></div><div><div></div><blockquote><div><span style="font-size: large;">... we spoke of nothing ordinary. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Not of my troubles with the farm -</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">my notes due and my failing crop -</span></div><div><div><span style="font-size: large;">or of anything at all that was small and real.</span></div></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">We lived disconnected and apart from things.</span></div></blockquote><div></div></div><div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">How will I ever get out of this god-damned rut? Am I to become a bedridden alcoholic?</div><div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Wasted</i>, though, is not entirely true. Yesterday I took Geoffrey for a much-needed shave, delivering him just after 7:30 and collecting him again at 11:00 from the salon where he's been going since the beginning. The butch lady at the reception desk remarked that he must be getting on in years. Back home I checked and discovered that we got him and <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/09/departure.html" target="_blank">Alf </a>way, way back in <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2008/11/dogs.html" target="_blank">November 2008</a> - 15 years ago this month.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We just found Mr G thirstily licking a wet spot where Mary had piddled on the pristine litter in one of the indoor feline latrines moments before, so I guess that answers any questions about senility. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Leaving the neglected garden to fend for itself, I surfed for the rest of the day to discover exciting new music and also to rediscover old favourites - see below.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Sadly, I'm just about caught up on my highly addictive <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/11/to-clean-or-not-to-clean.html" target="_blank">war series</a>, so I am particularly stingy with the handful of remaining episodes. Last night, I treated myself to an exclusive screening of <i><a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0064072/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0_tt_7_nm_1_q_The%2520Battle%2520of%2520Britain%2520" target="_blank">The Battle of Britain</a> </i>(1969) before bed instead. Brain candy.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This morning I was up early again to take the short drive to the <a href="https://g.co/kgs/6WhmKp" target="_blank">barber</a> where I have myself shorn from time to time. The shop owner looked a little annoyed at my premature arrival since he was still opening and setting up. He gave me a long lecture in a heavy Indian accent, of which I did not understand a single word. I nodded and said OK, which seemed to placate him; we listened to Hindu mantras and inhaled incense in silence while he deftly deforested my fuzzy pate. Always a pleasurable experience.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">On the way home I bought myself a delicacy or two at Kilnerpark Spar, since my love is off visiting Jane.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Even though I used some of the precious time I had for myself, when I got home I diligently did the dishes and the washing and the cat litter and the trash, creating a couple of conspicuous clean corners in the general grime.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLk1gC3MoRNg89DqcF4PcQXiAYhAjHfXjqlw-NU32bmV3KtBQWo3hr9WncDYHAEr3Jyi7MFSl-JPe7HZtvBpsZSz90wbvOjagb6QOXL75xO8OxJHElPC8YzoKfdfjP1BQRPOeowRCRI3rwre0D25kdlYkiRjOUaxYuEoGmEKfDoZE33Sre2gVcH7VKBYDq/s1024/sml%2020231105_090351.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLk1gC3MoRNg89DqcF4PcQXiAYhAjHfXjqlw-NU32bmV3KtBQWo3hr9WncDYHAEr3Jyi7MFSl-JPe7HZtvBpsZSz90wbvOjagb6QOXL75xO8OxJHElPC8YzoKfdfjP1BQRPOeowRCRI3rwre0D25kdlYkiRjOUaxYuEoGmEKfDoZE33Sre2gVcH7VKBYDq/s320/sml%2020231105_090351.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Washing dishes is perfect for grounding me and allowing me to get my thoughts in order so that I can compose a meaningful post - let's hope this one proves to be one of those.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div><br /></div><div>On 3 November (2023), The Beatles released their last song, titled Now and Then.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Opxhh9Oh3rg" width="320" youtube-src-id="Opxhh9Oh3rg"></iframe></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The song features every one of the Fab Four, not just the two who are still alive. There is a fascinating short film about how this was brought about, which you can watch <a href="https://youtu.be/APJAQoSCwuA?si=FpYfngr37lF4HqQx" target="_blank">here</a> if you are so inclined.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">From the grave, John sings the chilling opening lyrics:</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">I know it's true</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">It's all because of you</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">And if I make it through</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">It's all because of you</span></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Such love. Tears.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Now and then, surfing right through the night certainly pays off.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We have come to the conclusion that our latest batch of vape juice, bought from a dodgy online supplier, contains little to zero nicotine. To mitigate the fallout, we have been smoking cigarettes on and off once again. The One bought a pack of Voyager Menthol at OK on Monday, which we finished on Friday. On the way home on Friday afternoon I bought a pack of disgusting-tasting, harsh Pall Mall Menthol at Checkers, which we finished last night.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">And on my stop at Spar this morning I got a yummy R60 pack of Dunhill Menthols.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I suppose that very much makes me the villain.<br /></div></div></div><div><br /></div><div><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Written by I</span></i></div>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-41246437524333615712023-10-29T20:23:00.005+02:002023-12-25T13:00:24.049+02:00jai guru deva, om<p style="text-align: center;">Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup</p><p style="text-align: center;">They slither wildly as they slip away across the universe</p><p style="text-align: center;">Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my opened mind</p><p style="text-align: center;">Possessing and caressing me</p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Jai guru deva, om</i></p><p style="text-align: center;">Nothing's gonna change my world</p><p style="text-align: right;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=90M60PzmxEE" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span>Across the Universe - </span><span><b>The Beatles</b></span></span></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">*</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Nothing is indeed going to change my world; as hinted at <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/10/the-sa-ace.html" target="_blank">last week</a>, I am venturing along the <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/02/letting-go.html" target="_blank">Buddhist</a> path and attempting to accept the status quo. Perhaps that way, I will ease my own suffering and move closer to enlightenment.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><blockquote><span style="font-size: large;">You, then, are a witness to my brazen abandonment of all hope for a better tomorrow.</span></blockquote><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">This water, as <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2020/07/karen" target="_blank">Karen</a> would say, lives in Mombasa anyway. As it was in the beginning, it is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.</p><p style="text-align: center;">*</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I hit the nail on the head <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/09/workeatsleep.html" target="_blank">before</a> when I maintained that hard work only begets more thankless hard work. Said work presented itself in caustic form this past week with a particularly finicky job - a whopping 3,000 personalised certificates with gold and silver foil. After much ado, the certificate shells were plonked on my desk on Monday afternoon, ready to be overprinted with the grand achievements of budding youth.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I'm sure you think that doesn't sound too terrible; however, the personalisation came in the form of 47 Excel spreadsheets and one Word document, all of which I had to merge and print one by one so as to keep the certificates in separate stacks per adjudicator and school. It goes without saying that such miracle had to be accomplished in one-and-a-quarter days, with the client breathing down my neck, the bosses circling not far off and everyone else intently watching the action from a safe distance.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ71gkGCsXS79vCfnUSuEa54Cmyj9g-F4e5zyPj9kfoOQDcAq17ic97rmjpUmDy1dsHgY7lcD6p33bPchnXFGI5lroiyLCviJkrLE6D7byX675EXRBdbiGcaDdgV2KVb44LD7XU3cKyFvbueYMzc_HvkTXjd7n-3YaZBjMx6dpVfv16PTYD-7I8Ze0mODt/s1024/sml%2020231025_061927.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ71gkGCsXS79vCfnUSuEa54Cmyj9g-F4e5zyPj9kfoOQDcAq17ic97rmjpUmDy1dsHgY7lcD6p33bPchnXFGI5lroiyLCviJkrLE6D7byX675EXRBdbiGcaDdgV2KVb44LD7XU3cKyFvbueYMzc_HvkTXjd7n-3YaZBjMx6dpVfv16PTYD-7I8Ze0mODt/s320/sml%2020231025_061927.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">Well, if someone mentions teamwork in my presence anytime soon I may vomit, and I encourage you to vomit with me. By my lonesome self, I made the deadline on Tuesday at 15:00, feeling more than a little light-headed from the formatting and merging and monitoring and running and carrying and checking and packing. My trick knee just about crumbled under me.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">With the rush of the ordeal over, the rest of the week became a spectacular anticlimax; having overshot my R255K sales target in one go still feels surreal. It was unusual to have zero crucial deadlines hanging over my head; with no clear purpose, I drifted aimlessly and had just about foundered when Friday finally hoved into view.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I'm not even going to try and explain what I did this weekend, since it is even less than <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/10/the-sa-ace.html" target="_blank">the last</a>. My sole achievement was getting pizza for brunch yesterday because it was payday. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1TV8ZVNYpsZmNJpK6utMt4L3c94ZFDUl1jSdW0dxRszmhxTwp3GNtxG9RrfU3gC4V2SXa8stuCJv32uuLPqWbpNxJ1KPNp8AiwbHYSbdUZyWpEfa5mpXcabcd6vll81m3lfFGZ-ulEYR2Y436H7WpdUSn4RoljaeP40ms_LvVu5yGY5JivQE1oF8IvqzZ/s1024/sml%2020231028_124259.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1TV8ZVNYpsZmNJpK6utMt4L3c94ZFDUl1jSdW0dxRszmhxTwp3GNtxG9RrfU3gC4V2SXa8stuCJv32uuLPqWbpNxJ1KPNp8AiwbHYSbdUZyWpEfa5mpXcabcd6vll81m3lfFGZ-ulEYR2Y436H7WpdUSn4RoljaeP40ms_LvVu5yGY5JivQE1oF8IvqzZ/s320/sml%2020231028_124259.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Yes, those are three different slices from three different pizzas. With bloody <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/10/how-to-justify-junk-food.html" target="_blank">Coke</a>, too. We're not making it out alive, anyway.</div><p style="text-align: justify;">To be frank, yesterday is a bit of a blur, having burned through most of my medication the night before. Suffice it to say that, if I'd suddenly found myself about to die, these would have been my final thoughts... give or take:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoEwQjDkljPTmlXedn6hGKSBAh6m6p0fo0S7Z9wURalKngWfqsyMwWmMqU2eukQhXIBMu8zB1VfRhMbd-2UDO9QCB8ZVkBj7Z8p-kbmZwPPt1R7ca-8e4UJP65PXvFDXe4__FJ_UB7FbUL04kconVt34yg1jNwfJukqMHzcEKJqEGYZwuHy5sXyGRk8wJC/s420/MjAxMi0xOTk2NWJmMWM4MDVmZDE3.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="294" data-original-width="420" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoEwQjDkljPTmlXedn6hGKSBAh6m6p0fo0S7Z9wURalKngWfqsyMwWmMqU2eukQhXIBMu8zB1VfRhMbd-2UDO9QCB8ZVkBj7Z8p-kbmZwPPt1R7ca-8e4UJP65PXvFDXe4__FJ_UB7FbUL04kconVt34yg1jNwfJukqMHzcEKJqEGYZwuHy5sXyGRk8wJC/s320/MjAxMi0xOTk2NWJmMWM4MDVmZDE3.png" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">At least the Springboks had managed an unprecedented fourth victory in the RWC. Having no recourse to premium satellite TV, I had to constantly check the progress of the all-important match online, simultaneously listening to the live radio broadcast on Radio 2000 and paying attention to the levels of screaming and shouting down the street. I didn't even have to check the score when it started sounding like New Year outside at the end of the match.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Right here and now, however, it has proven to be a bit of a Pyrrhic victory. Celebrations around us commenced even before the match last night and continued throughout; there is still activity in isolated pockets to the east. If you happen to read about some damfool being violently impaled upon their own vuvuzela in the news, you will most likely be able to work out what happened.</p><p style="text-align: center;">*</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><i>Jai guru deva, om</i> - glory to the shining remover of darkness - for it has sent upon our path a hellcat to illuminate the starless journey to Nirvana.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglLmR3rYfsXyfFaQlbr83Pp4i_JJ-z2m8uVJbZTK1-H6XZ7GXngIUc0zPpLuecOhQTJGdloPvIQgHiF9YdR3NTMiMy0yOfvPyBazLaLlgiMH0J2LfQkBancCX30kSEJWiGH0ivS3DEr1mnq6KiSCIP-1OP0WZHv658d1WsWyghaL7PuXcS1V31G7gjVU9X/s1024/sml%2020231028_115455.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglLmR3rYfsXyfFaQlbr83Pp4i_JJ-z2m8uVJbZTK1-H6XZ7GXngIUc0zPpLuecOhQTJGdloPvIQgHiF9YdR3NTMiMy0yOfvPyBazLaLlgiMH0J2LfQkBancCX30kSEJWiGH0ivS3DEr1mnq6KiSCIP-1OP0WZHv658d1WsWyghaL7PuXcS1V31G7gjVU9X/s320/sml%2020231028_115455.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Writtem by I</span></i></p>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-45421228630409311172023-10-22T15:33:00.009+02:002023-10-22T20:14:13.747+02:00the SA ace<p style="text-align: justify;">Unlike <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/10/of-productive-weekend.html" target="_blank">last weekend</a>, this has been just another wasted, hung-over one and I accomplished exactly three things. Yesterday morning I took my love to the pharmacy for his meds. When we got back I cooked <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/05/of-stew.html" target="_blank">stew</a>. And today, after stumbling out of bed at 9:30, I cleaned the cat litter.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I spent most of my unoccupied time watching <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/11/to-clean-or-not-to-clean.html" target="_blank">war stories</a>. Having nothing else to report, at least I can tell you about more South Africans that I have discovered fighting in WWII. I consider this post a fitting tribute to The Springboks' nail-biting RWC semi-final victory over England last night. Make us proud next week, boys!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh88mcFzzFJodtk_nKm5hMRyKXx5C9XA-uWZMoeuOz7JGslZeoG4W60YqfIRXH-trlR-qpvG9HcVL5JfG4nSqaJSx7PtAMqgCcBC-9rDZfp0RXL_TqozqmsWQDWwCvZ_cPWrCLgmwQogsF9H2mrd6OIzlRJPfNGDE9i5cmROXom0UqoOq6cH5ySUAd5uzZ4/s1024/1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="724" data-original-width="1024" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh88mcFzzFJodtk_nKm5hMRyKXx5C9XA-uWZMoeuOz7JGslZeoG4W60YqfIRXH-trlR-qpvG9HcVL5JfG4nSqaJSx7PtAMqgCcBC-9rDZfp0RXL_TqozqmsWQDWwCvZ_cPWrCLgmwQogsF9H2mrd6OIzlRJPfNGDE9i5cmROXom0UqoOq6cH5ySUAd5uzZ4/s320/1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">*</p><p style="text-align: justify;">With his reputation as one of Germany’s most popular and heroic soldiers of World War II, everyone knows <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erwin_Rommel" target="_blank">Generalfeldmarschal Erwin Rommel</a> - the famed Desert Fox.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-YvuHiR8EqljOIy_oPyqbX0cis7MSZKWpwYvd7i4TgjEyEgPn95ambxJWmWy1iEwqB0NaYO-EenbaQFS1gbGFB_DlKYBRKtQGbuBEUuhE7v-hzZ1uDJpKY0EvvAJnetdXllbmu-MJSueod8THf7q2TPrjuGmzAv4CE9TVMq5UOiypomG0DjdIc1hhOMB5/s1024/rommel.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="673" data-original-width="1024" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-YvuHiR8EqljOIy_oPyqbX0cis7MSZKWpwYvd7i4TgjEyEgPn95ambxJWmWy1iEwqB0NaYO-EenbaQFS1gbGFB_DlKYBRKtQGbuBEUuhE7v-hzZ1uDJpKY0EvvAJnetdXllbmu-MJSueod8THf7q2TPrjuGmzAv4CE9TVMq5UOiypomG0DjdIc1hhOMB5/s320/rommel.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">What you may not know is that, after the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/North_African_campaign" target="_blank">North African Campaign</a> had concluded in May 1943, he was posted to Italy as commander of the newly formed Army Group B. The army took part in disarming the Italian forces later that same year during Operation Achse; in November, Rommel and the entire Army Group B were ordered to France. He was made General Inspector of the Western Defences with his headquarters located in La Roche-Guyon; defending the French coast against the long-anticipated Allied invasion was his key responsibility.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">On July 17, 1944 - D+42 -, the General was being driven from inspecting defences in the south of Caen back to his HQ. At about 18:00 on a rural road outside Sainte-Foy-de-Montgommery, his black open-top Horch was strafed by Allied aircraft. The driver was hit by the machine guns and lost control of the car. It struck a tree and spun off the road; Rommel was flung into a ditch, sustaining a severe skull fracture.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhStwFlKEaY3vKVFUQlzICjwfu8bIb9a5PHg7AfdGKzyLNhXT91VKEnZxOgAuzKx7ePCEFNcBEFFt9MQdysT2prRvg-VS7_FTOfC9Uxo2KYaQGJ5MGd-KEaSmrsjKW-a6vocl4YclNkqf_UzMRa2QR-95eUUK7OuMnZl3TOLt52sibAw373IrMKUAlUmm3q/s1024/2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="489" data-original-width="1024" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhStwFlKEaY3vKVFUQlzICjwfu8bIb9a5PHg7AfdGKzyLNhXT91VKEnZxOgAuzKx7ePCEFNcBEFFt9MQdysT2prRvg-VS7_FTOfC9Uxo2KYaQGJ5MGd-KEaSmrsjKW-a6vocl4YclNkqf_UzMRa2QR-95eUUK7OuMnZl3TOLt52sibAw373IrMKUAlUmm3q/s320/2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">1939 Horch 830 BL</span></i></div><p style="text-align: justify;">Barely surviving such a serious injury, three days later he was implicated in the failed plot to blow up <i>die Führer</i> and his work as both commander and suspected conspirator came to an end. On 14 October he committed suicide, choosing to protect his family rather than to stand trial for his alleged complicity in the plot.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYfTRBKjI4OBUfIi64lkMDHHhe7K-EEbOoV2yI0l-aHZPVfSvq5acpp50_IO70neAeKdVGnQPsCno7xwbEejY4bibJe4mvdfDOKXY5X3UX_zMiX9GnyfUhOcr44SJx4BqspQzeo8skg791c4reIo5Bo90BDOjPMzHrt9wR8vF91wgCH4es5yvEh5cQV9LN/s1024/3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="681" data-original-width="1024" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYfTRBKjI4OBUfIi64lkMDHHhe7K-EEbOoV2yI0l-aHZPVfSvq5acpp50_IO70neAeKdVGnQPsCno7xwbEejY4bibJe4mvdfDOKXY5X3UX_zMiX9GnyfUhOcr44SJx4BqspQzeo8skg791c4reIo5Bo90BDOjPMzHrt9wR8vF91wgCH4es5yvEh5cQV9LN/s320/3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><i style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Rommel's funeral procession - 18 October 1944</span></i></div></i><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">The attempted assassination made Hitler grow increasingly more paranoid and deranged, purging many of his loyal generals - ultimately contributing to the downfall of Nazi Germany.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Be that as it may, the RAF Spitfire 9 that had fired on Rommel’s car was flown by South African Ace fighter pilot, JJ ”Chris” le Roux, DFC, Squad Leader of the SAAF 602 Squadron. A veteran of the North African Campaign, he was the top-scoring pilot over Normandy since the landings with 23 kills at that point.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhddPLyAU7tiUVOs8iUhfjx5zssXiLgaAzQ1OOxEdSMV-B7nkV1mBgrGZ61JpgdoAynTNSy1yxSuDtDki1ryjhJSsz3uqqWrJsVgeV0Wt8dTxaTSNubjzWZHnty0wNn4GjDi3J0qD66uOffCqXWmMFCQzwG3SFoz_Eeu-aMEzWjiJYXpjwdW4C030_Aqyce/s1024/5.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="696" data-original-width="1024" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhddPLyAU7tiUVOs8iUhfjx5zssXiLgaAzQ1OOxEdSMV-B7nkV1mBgrGZ61JpgdoAynTNSy1yxSuDtDki1ryjhJSsz3uqqWrJsVgeV0Wt8dTxaTSNubjzWZHnty0wNn4GjDi3J0qD66uOffCqXWmMFCQzwG3SFoz_Eeu-aMEzWjiJYXpjwdW4C030_Aqyce/s320/5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">He was 24 years old when his plane disappeared over the English Channel on 19 September 1944; like so many other gallant and brilliant fighter pilots, he was destroyed not by enemy gunfire, but by an aircraft accident. He never learned the identity of his high-ranking victim. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Of him, it is written that: </p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><blockquote style="text-align: left;">His cheerful personality and good looks had made him one of South Africa's most popular fighter pilots, and he was mourned by all who had known him. He was a very worthy member of "<i>the gayest company who ever fired their guns in anger.</i>"</blockquote><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><blockquote style="text-align: left;">There is an anecdote which remains as a memory of one as young and as lion-hearted as Chris le Roux. In relating the story of his having made a good landing in very dirty weather and rivers of mud, he finishes:</blockquote><p></p><blockquote style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"> "I didn't realise I was down until I heard the ground crew clapping!"</span></blockquote><p></p><p></p><p style="text-align: center;">*</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Most of the time I detest this country and having to make a living here. Now and then, though, it makes my heart swell with pride to call myself South African.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">With the big five-oh looming ever closer, I am coming to grok that it makes more sense to appreciate what you already possess than to live with your head in the clouds, waiting for a better tomorrow.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Written by I</span></i></p>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-32338023615968184222023-10-15T20:22:00.009+02:002023-10-15T21:52:13.595+02:00of a productive weekend<div style="text-align: justify;">A productive weekend always lifts my spirits.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It started yesterday morning at 7:15 when my alarm rang. I found myself alone in bed - The One had gotten up earlier and the cats had followed him. I came across Geoffrey, dug into the folds of the bedclothes, and took him outside for his morning pee. The air was delightfully cool and breezy.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><blockquote>My mission for the day was the <i>Ceremony of the First Mowing</i> and I wanted to get it over and done with as early as possible.</blockquote></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Also, my love would be venturing out into the wide world for the first time in months, going on a visit to his pal Jane. On Thursday I'd bought a new battery for <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2020/03/picanto-gas.html" target="_blank">his car</a> using most of our meagre savings and this would be the first trip to see it in action; I was on standby if something went awry.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Many of the neighbours were already up and about at 7:30 when I was setting up the extension cord and dragged the dust-covered lawnmower out of hibernation. By 7:50 everyone around us seemed to have surfaced so I started my arduous, dusty task. Though we haven't had much rain, it's been enough to revive the clumpy grass. When I was done with the mower, the geriatric edge trimmer gave me gears; I replaced its little roll of nylon line and soon it was manicuring the edges beautifully.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Great improvement, I think - before and after:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisPwX6qHNmlo6W3j3v39-LiQfWhDfsq2ha5J4nSo7Xg8EEY_AdXg1X2NEwqNkwAhdw4GfM4eE9T-FlibdKZQ9jXBn03GFYw2MGVcyj2CXWNZDL43vi-IueeIs9WpEZzQHoUERmaEQfg2ri4U9cvKWkBVsr4QJVKij1_VGRFdsqAYw3uJXnJ1R80KUonsWW/s1200/1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisPwX6qHNmlo6W3j3v39-LiQfWhDfsq2ha5J4nSo7Xg8EEY_AdXg1X2NEwqNkwAhdw4GfM4eE9T-FlibdKZQ9jXBn03GFYw2MGVcyj2CXWNZDL43vi-IueeIs9WpEZzQHoUERmaEQfg2ri4U9cvKWkBVsr4QJVKij1_VGRFdsqAYw3uJXnJ1R80KUonsWW/s320/1.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">My husband came to say goodbye as I was busy sweeping up the last bit of debris. I opened the gate for him so I could wave him off, and had the chance to take a good look at the roadside driveway. It was in a shocking state - heaps of litter stuck in knee-high weeds.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ewfcT8ySiDcUidkCfUjY_X5qOopA49-Tvl_eFOTvYAQERIYt3u0v-eJFPJBGxc_iVcHdUGQATefvsB5iiqqpIMUB7Bap7BV_a8Go9Jryqoti3W6inVHEebtoJIWbNBKr5qK8VbEHW7Fgt-fdBegYYMHkz_R4M1CqFU0_fZJkoxdC24yeI84lBqVcICTI/s1024/2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ewfcT8ySiDcUidkCfUjY_X5qOopA49-Tvl_eFOTvYAQERIYt3u0v-eJFPJBGxc_iVcHdUGQATefvsB5iiqqpIMUB7Bap7BV_a8Go9Jryqoti3W6inVHEebtoJIWbNBKr5qK8VbEHW7Fgt-fdBegYYMHkz_R4M1CqFU0_fZJkoxdC24yeI84lBqVcICTI/s320/2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Also, can you believe that some damfool is systematically carrying off our driveway, one brick at a time?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Home alone, I spent the rest of the morning lost in war stories. I have reached 22 July 1944 - D+47 - in the <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/11/to-clean-or-not-to-clean.html" target="_blank">chronological documentary series</a> that I follow. Prospects are not looking good for the Axis Forces and they are taking a beating just about everywhere - the Finns in their own country; the Nazis in Russia and most of eastern Europe, in France and Italy; the Imperial Japanese Army in Burma, Saipan and Guam.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">To my absolute delight, I discovered during one such virtual travel in time that there was a South African Armoured Division - the 6th - fighting on the front line in the Italian Campaign; I cannot wait to learn about their exploits in the Battle of Celleno. The Division acted as the armoured spearhead for the entire advance northwards to liberate Florence.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOCkpmPl_3FLS9piQN-vKA7T_-H-wulMidkl1oa3UV6mMuPhyu6DKE0K8VuEUkMA47BYxVL46Dzpl2wFQ-weYyKbQSv3Xq7c6BmQJR6oTXx6Es9ZZMIHR5RWyaSszf9tYEiJbeTlI7DCowG3EKjBoVh3mo40eyOKfBoVAiP1aOHKPRhBtEbbYMw3NjM47s/s1006/5.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1006" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOCkpmPl_3FLS9piQN-vKA7T_-H-wulMidkl1oa3UV6mMuPhyu6DKE0K8VuEUkMA47BYxVL46Dzpl2wFQ-weYyKbQSv3Xq7c6BmQJR6oTXx6Es9ZZMIHR5RWyaSszf9tYEiJbeTlI7DCowG3EKjBoVh3mo40eyOKfBoVAiP1aOHKPRhBtEbbYMw3NjM47s/s320/5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">South African Sherman Tanks in Italy during World War II</span></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">My love was back home at 13:30, having had no problems with his jalopy. I was quite relieved that the new battery had held out and solved the issues I'd had <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/10/how-to-justify-junk-food.html" target="_blank">a week ago</a>. We drifted back into normal Saturday mode and went about doing our usual weekend things. At 21:36 the electricity unexpectedly spluttered and was gone. Both of us were tired; we didn't even bother setting up our load-shedding stations, rather going to bed.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Thankfully it wasn't scorching; still, I missed the reassuring hum of three fans and sleeping was fitful. A party also raged not far off - thank the gods it was not right next door for once - the brash music continuing long after midnight.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">*</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Even though I'd not slept well, I was wide awake at 6:15 this morning. Again, my husband and the cats had been up for a while. Needless to say, we still had no electricity. There wasn't much I fancied doing inside the gloomy house so I set off to see about the shambolic driveway.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Before I opened the gate, I collected every goddamned candy wrapper and all the other random shit the neighbours toss over into our yard - from a bright pink lighter to a fluorescent orange washcloth. Then I unceremoniously chucked all of it right in the middle of the street when I went out.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><blockquote><span style="font-size: large;">People can bloody well clean up their own messes.</span></blockquote></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Feeling somewhat vindicated, I tackled the diabolical weeds and pulled out as much of them as possible without spending too much time on it; I had zero desire to encounter anyone in the street. Done with my cursory weeding, I zapped the remnants with precious Roundup. That stuff costs an exorbitant R500 per litre these days; it is 100% effective, though - the next time you see this driveway, all those weeds will have vanished.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_Br_yeH5m77_aeA9bcSmK9ktQdpHTPuuR-_At8Z-4mWruj6t7up0dfqo7-jU7fhW8IrGWI6QP2JaMTqTtZdp2y3bvDDyoynTJdh1pb54pzPZ5RnyEAMYRq2KoOwUH97Asg5yWepX8ipkTzdxJS6tzhOE5R5YcdJDuF6CcKXlQ0Ifn9nmEg2ruMywIgKc/s1024/3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha_Br_yeH5m77_aeA9bcSmK9ktQdpHTPuuR-_At8Z-4mWruj6t7up0dfqo7-jU7fhW8IrGWI6QP2JaMTqTtZdp2y3bvDDyoynTJdh1pb54pzPZ5RnyEAMYRq2KoOwUH97Asg5yWepX8ipkTzdxJS6tzhOE5R5YcdJDuF6CcKXlQ0Ifn9nmEg2ruMywIgKc/s320/3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/05/meet-charles.html" target="_blank">Charles</a> approached the open gate with wide eyes as I worked; I chased him off, upon which he performed a series of impressive lightning dashes around the house, taking a shortcut through the living room to spook me at the kitchen door where I was having a quick puff. I call him The Froot - as loopy as the rest of us here.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMFL5u0aBI_tyo4_U35s0mx-4E-WX4Oh7snyYsjbgqZjVbM9jwajDmVXZUWCqKLIpP1A4Nkt9wdoJmDwUv8BXJRHSLLNt0LxG8vS4zKSsMbnGW4EuhcNOlFI8JOB7EOqT415ulVuvHjFABhKdIOxkKtd3r4ZfI15JA3Cg3X1z4pT1qSR7mxyJkRzHQ_VRM/s1024/4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMFL5u0aBI_tyo4_U35s0mx-4E-WX4Oh7snyYsjbgqZjVbM9jwajDmVXZUWCqKLIpP1A4Nkt9wdoJmDwUv8BXJRHSLLNt0LxG8vS4zKSsMbnGW4EuhcNOlFI8JOB7EOqT415ulVuvHjFABhKdIOxkKtd3r4ZfI15JA3Cg3X1z4pT1qSR7mxyJkRzHQ_VRM/s320/4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I ended my efforts in the street with an attempt at a speedy reshuffle of the loose paving, but it immediately became apparent that it was going to need a lot of time and patience, as well as the right tools and materials to fix. It had been in a similar state when we <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2011/09/move.html" target="_blank">moved in</a> and we had it repaired then; for years it was perfectly fine - until Metrofibre dug up the street last year and demolished part of the driveway in the process. Cheekily, the buggers pulled out without putting it back together when they'd done laying their pipes.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Anyway, it was already well past 7:00 and the disintegrating paving would have to be fixed at a later stage. I retreated to safety on the other side of the gate. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Frustratingly, we still had no power. I knew that I should keep occupied to make time fly and decided that I may as well clean both our grubby cars - also long overdue. It took an hour and thirty minutes, but it was worth the effort to see our wheels gleaming and pine-fresh again. I'm sure I'll thank myself when I am able to see through the windshield properly for a change tomorrow, too.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I remembered that I hadn't replaced the cats' litter yet and did that next, tossing a week's worth of household trash into the bin at the same time.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">My love's devices had all more or less run out of juice by then, so he'd withdrawn to bed and lay snoring away. Chores done, I arranged my off-grid setup and had just begun zoning out and absorbing the intricacies of WWII when the lights flickered back on at 9:40. We'd been without electricity for twelve hours almost to the minute; I must say I'd prefer having regular, scheduled load-shedding over the random dwang we get here instead.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Outside, people were cheering; I sped to the kitchen and got a <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/05/of-stew.html" target="_blank">stew</a> going without pause. Then I proceeded to wash the stacks of dishes - piled up since Friday - while it cooked. My love slept through most of it, only appearing when I was divvying up the food.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We drifted off into our respective Sunday worlds. I worked on this post on and off for the remainder of the day, discovering new music on YouTube when I wasn't writing or fiddling with the text. My dearest did a bit of complicated-looking soldering for an electronic project he is working on. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">About an hour ago we had a nasty two-minute scare when the electricity petered out again, but then I told the universe I was halfway through this post and it relented.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Written by I</span></i></div>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-36650244290458553332023-10-07T21:00:00.004+02:002023-10-15T21:55:28.070+02:00how to justify eating junk food<p style="text-align: justify;">My day started at 7:00; I had to be up early to take my mom to her vet since her dear kitty Basil was sick. If I'm not doing work at home over weekends, chances are that I am hung over. Sometimes I even surf right through the night, only going to bed when my husband gets up. This is my weekend life these <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/09/workeatsleep.html" target="_blank">doleful days</a>.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">It is also a shameful fact that I had not seen my mom since the <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/01/antici-pation.html" target="_blank">beginning of the year</a> and I looked forward to the short visit. I even cut my dragonish toenails; I knew she would not approve if I appeared looking like a hobo.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">My Love hasn't started <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2020/03/picanto-gas.html" target="_blank">his car</a> in months, let alone driven somewhere. I thought it would be a good idea to use it on my trip to clear its tubes and charge the dead battery since he'll need to start using it again soon. We jump-started the white jalopy using <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2019/08/la-voiture-dargent.html" target="_blank">my car</a> and I set off on my travels at 7:45, reaching my destination at 8:27 after an uneventful journey. I missed the comfort of power steering but, other than that, the Kia is a zippy little thing - even by my standards.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I waited for my mom to get her things together and we loaded Basil (ensconced in his cat pod) onto the back seat of the car, ready to set off around 8:45 as intended.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">When I turned the key in the ignition, however, there was just a click... and nothing else. My heart sank. The goddamned battery was still uncharged.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">My sis was about to set off to attend a work function; praise be that she could give me a quick jump-start. In haste, I swapped the jumper cables on the Kia's battery terminals, nearly blowing us all to smithereens. Thankfully nobody noticed the sparks and the minute 1.1 litre engine purred back into life as soon as I clamped the cables the right way around. I guess if the battery hadn't been dead before, I killed it with that moronic stunt.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">The delay had cost us first position at the vet and my mom and I had to wait for a couple who'd brought in two poisoned dogs. Sadly, the dogs did not make it and my heart went out to the husband and wife as they stumbled back to their car past us after the ordeal, their <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/02/letting-go.html" target="_blank">familiar grief</a> heartbreaking. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Another couple arrived just after us with a droopy-looking Dachshund. I met these people a long time ago when I was still a churchgoer - they told me on one occasion that they were millionaires, having won the lottery, and that they would always be thankful to God for that. I thanked the gods when they didn't recognise me.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I kept an eye on the Kia in the car park where it idled unattended and unlocked. When I'd helped my mom and Basil into the consulting room I returned to the car and waited for her there. Occasionally the engine fan would come on; the revs dipped alarmingly then, but the sturdy little thing kept running. I don't think anybody even noticed what was going on because the tiny Korean engine is exceptionally smooth and quiet; nevertheless, I could <i>feel</i> the earth heating up and the climate change because of the ruthless way I was burning gasoline.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">The vet, where my family's been taking pets for decades, is located in a house which is right next to the property where my love boarded with his sister and her husband at the time <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2015/10/x.html?q=kafka" target="_blank">we met</a> online. I got lost in thoughts about those good old days when life seemed to be bristling with exciting possibilities.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPHgDiwoDMIP9iMRXrele9_4PwbkjYUkMm1aPc0skOw0C3Liy8sc7xQqeURwkFkn5sXribhFGX1aHNakqtBgXb6o7brCLRa5E19HcnLk7scJeRC649Wy2S_3Mz7yv5FHBUOgIlhVFpHg82uGfNYRlHSTdiNwrBk10IkbyaRCQLL1F2eNZ-8-ILZDQZ7x5a/s636/2005.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="636" height="242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPHgDiwoDMIP9iMRXrele9_4PwbkjYUkMm1aPc0skOw0C3Liy8sc7xQqeURwkFkn5sXribhFGX1aHNakqtBgXb6o7brCLRa5E19HcnLk7scJeRC649Wy2S_3Mz7yv5FHBUOgIlhVFpHg82uGfNYRlHSTdiNwrBk10IkbyaRCQLL1F2eNZ-8-ILZDQZ7x5a/s320/2005.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;">In all we spent an hour at the vet; Basil was diagnosed with a spot of enteritis and got a bottle of antibiotics and another of costive. Relieved to be on the way again, I pointed us homewards. Then, frustratingly, at the very first set of traffic lights the engine I'd babysat so diligently spluttered and died. I switched on the hazard lights but the battery was so spent that they didn't even flash. I used a number of taboo words and then remembered that my mom was sitting right next to me.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">After the mob at the intersection had manoeuvred around us and sped off, I released the brake and we slowly started rolling backwards - we seemed to be on a slight incline. There are a couple of skills <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/search?q=father" target="_blank">my dad</a> taught me that I will always treasure; one of them is how to kickstart a moving car (even in reverse) and, once we'd picked up some speed, I easily rekindled the fire without having to get out. We set off once more; I kept the revs high all the way to avoid another episode. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">With my mom and Basil safely delivered back home, I began the return trip to our little haven. This time I took the highway to limit the chances of another engine stall; I also wanted to see if prolonged higher speeds might revive the battery. It came as a shock to discover that the toll fee at the Doornpoort Plaza has gone up to a whopping R18. Anyway, at the Stormvoël offramp, I made a split-second decision and turned right instead of left for a detour to the KFC at that brutish traffic roundabout in Kilner Park.</p><p></p><blockquote><span style="font-size: large;">It felt like I needed a recharge, having survived such a crazy morning.</span></blockquote><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Exiting the drive-thru lane, I realised that I'd forgotten to buy something to drink so I quickly made another impromptu stop at the Total garage by the N1 bridge. I risked it, leaving the car running unattended and unlocked in the parking lot one more time while I dashed into the convenience store. There is simply no way you can binge on greasy KFC and <i>not </i>wash it down with an icy Coca-Cola.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">My love was waiting and opened the gate for me when I got home. When I'd parked, I switched the car off and tried to start it again... Sadly, the drive on the highway had had zero effect on the battery's condition and a new one is on the cards.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Written by I</span></i></p>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1516101351024152546.post-13680306983868957482023-09-25T19:41:00.001+02:002023-09-25T19:41:55.801+02:00enjoy the silence<p style="text-align: justify;">I got up at 7:30 this morning, intending to go to Builder's Warehouse to get some things I need for the garden. For one, our up-and-coming <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/03/of-mulberries-and-maize-figs-and-fan.html" target="_blank">fig tree</a>'s outgrown the second-hand plastic pot I so hastily planted it in years ago; it also has no saucer so the water just piddles away and I have to top it up daily. A larger pot with a saucer would easily solve both problems. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDa6zyYA1tI6k0xff1v1FxiYSc8E03qd91FH5u4C4_Da0_xNtgM5Z6onlCQ2RhaFLIztIwIvxnoQXTuJGKxoTSkiDEkFNe5y9KYkF-P6AAwC0H2_OHF8MXQLT5U-jgin1ApmwS1Tx3HKXSHFpW7mY-HIU7sXp2Kap4ZjNqFsYEOnERMOhJQ4lcYXeG8jvN/s1024/smll_20230925_161241.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDa6zyYA1tI6k0xff1v1FxiYSc8E03qd91FH5u4C4_Da0_xNtgM5Z6onlCQ2RhaFLIztIwIvxnoQXTuJGKxoTSkiDEkFNe5y9KYkF-P6AAwC0H2_OHF8MXQLT5U-jgin1ApmwS1Tx3HKXSHFpW7mY-HIU7sXp2Kap4ZjNqFsYEOnERMOhJQ4lcYXeG8jvN/s320/smll_20230925_161241.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">The plan also called for getting a saucer for the smaller pot, into which I would then transfer a neglected epiphyllum hybrid, grown from a bud my sis gave me just after Covid. The hardy plant blooms, even though it is hidden in a spot that I quite often forget to water.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDMjKaKJUMcMlSTHiN8Ybr1yDW9GhI83ZEHKo6IoP6T-Kx5JHzrjUJjGQeodh3CBVgaTPao0lCPqg_K6ilsGLWnL7b7r4xNAZ_yz6FsGfVPY4u6dmYUleyUxlipWBcEx2SiUzmdnU0t_vhEa0hbqCFAlsRunbE1brxOBvXNVCGCD3p0gyDyUv_G00QXg8g/s1024/sml_20230925_161030.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDMjKaKJUMcMlSTHiN8Ybr1yDW9GhI83ZEHKo6IoP6T-Kx5JHzrjUJjGQeodh3CBVgaTPao0lCPqg_K6ilsGLWnL7b7r4xNAZ_yz6FsGfVPY4u6dmYUleyUxlipWBcEx2SiUzmdnU0t_vhEa0hbqCFAlsRunbE1brxOBvXNVCGCD3p0gyDyUv_G00QXg8g/s320/sml_20230925_161030.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;">Checking the available store credit made me change my mind about the trip, though. I'll have to keep watering until after payday... hopefully, we'll have some rain this week.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Nothing else needed my immediate attention after cleaning the cat litter and taking out the trash so I just took it easy for the rest of the day, my dearest husband waiting on me hand and foot. The sweetheart even washed the dishes when it was my turn so I could continue doing things that make me feel good.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">After another fast and furious work week, three days of loafing were exactly what I needed to claw back some of my sanity.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">It wasn't just tumultuous at work, either. A hurricane passed over our little house on Wednesday night, nearly taking us along with it. The electricity popped off not long after the wind picked up suddenly around 21:00; bed seemed the safest place and we had settled in by 22:00, assorted pets scattered about. Things outside really got out of hand and I very nearly lost my mind.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">I don't think I have ever been as anxious - listening to the wind howl and rattle the roof tiles, certain that a tree would be uprooted at any second, perhaps even killing someone. My heart was beating so fast that I became convinced it would attack me.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">All I could do was huddle into a ball and concentrate on repeating the lyrics of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t-NUBR2kufw&list=LL&index=1&pp=gAQBiAQB" target="_blank">Rammstein's <i>Armee der Tristen</i></a> to take my mind off the storm.</p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Bist du traurig, so wie ich?</i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Dir laufen Tränen vom Gesicht</i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Komm zu uns und reih dich ein</i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Wir wollen zusammen traurig sein</i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Are you downcast, as I am?</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">There are tears running down your face</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Come to us and join our band</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Let us all be sad as one</span></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/t-NUBR2kufw" width="320" youtube-src-id="t-NUBR2kufw"></iframe></div><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Unbelievably, the gales faded away with zero damage sometime after midnight. The power came back at 1:00 a.m. and I finally dozed off, remembering to thank every god I'd beseeched to end the torture - one way or the other.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">The past week also marked the passing one year ago of both our boy <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/09/well-meet-again.html" target="_blank">Alfred</a> (20 September) and my dearest <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2022/09/she-comes-not-again.html" target="_blank">Lizz</a> (24 September). Geoffrey was noticeably heartbroken on Wednesday and would not touch his food, as if in remembrance of his brother.</p><p style="text-align: center;">*</p><blockquote><span style="font-size: large;">And so, I express my heartfelt gratitude to our neighbours for not blasting us away with their questionable music once this entire long weekend.</span></blockquote><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">... unlike <a href="https://the1andi.blogspot.com/2023/06/of-ruined-long-weekend.html" target="_blank">the previous one</a>. The usual culprits have clearly not gone on holiday, either. No, there may be overall <i>silence </i>but it is certainly not <i>quiet</i>. We hear people talking, kids playing, bottles clanking and the like all the time. I'm not unreasonable - that kind of everyday noise does not bother me one bit. What scratches my ass is the incessant, pervasive booming that lasts for hours.</p><p style="text-align: center;">*</p><p style="text-align: justify;">When I got into bed next to The One for a quick nap this afternoon, I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt as blissful, drifting off in peace. </p><p><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Written by I</i></span></p>Ihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14934421088862354715noreply@blogger.com0Ekklesia, Pretoria, 0186, South Africa-25.7012443 28.2851853-54.011478136178845 -6.8710647000000016 2.6089895361788464 63.441435299999995