Recording, reminiscing and occasional bokdrols of wisdom.
Random, un-chronological memories.
bokdrols – like pearls, but handle with care
Turbulence is interesting to anyone dealing with flow – any liquid flow, which includes airflow.
A play on Augustus De Morgan’s
Great fleas have little fleas upon their backs to bite ’em,
And little fleas have lesser fleas, and so ad infinitum.
And the great fleas themselves, in turn, have greater fleas to go on;
While these again have greater still, and greater still, and so on
Augustus De Morgan, A Budget of Paradoxes, p. 377. 1915
Which in turn, is a rewording of Jonathan Swift
So, naturalists observe, a flea
Has smaller fleas that on him prey;
And these have smaller still to bite ’em,
And so proceed ad infinitum.
Thus every poet in his kind
Is bit by him that comes behind.
Jonathan Swift, Poetry, A Rhapsody. 1733
Plaintive request from a colleague whose new practice name was challenged by – let’s politely say misguided – colleagues who claimed to have registered the same name before – even though they had never used it, nor had any use for it:
Please come visit me if Classic Eyes puts me in jail … I have my name reserved and they say they have the name reserved ….
I’ll paint a box of wine brown and pretend its my briefcase – then I’ll “forget it” in your cell.
Regards Peter Swanepoel
I knew I could count on you.
Little Azo – full name Azokuhle – has been a feature of our home all her life. At nine years old she still calls me “Dad’s Jess”. “Dad’s Jess, there’s a tick on the floor here!” she has just called out.
This reminded me of way back starting out with kids. I was 43 before I changed my first nappy, but – thanks to disposables – I was an old hand at it by the time this happened:
At River Drive ca. 1999, various Moms had dumped some children on me and gone off to play. Left me holding the babies, as it were.
From halfway down the passage came a yell “Jessica’s Dad! Come Wipe My Bum!” Took me aback somewhat, but I found the source of the shout, then it’s bum and did the necessary.
On Wednesdays always something new. Tonight Porterhouse, mushroom, roast potato and um, something green. Cecelia had hers delivered to her room; Jess and I had personal service too.
Its gone wimpish! Actually Oddballs is still a wonderful, more affordable way to see the Okavango Delta and this post must be taken with a pinch of salt; My tongue is in my cheek;
This is classic “The Good Old Days was better” bulldust.
When WE went ca. 1990 we had to take our own food! But because there’s a 10kg limit on the Cessna 206’s and because one has to take binoculars, a telescope, a tripod, a sleeping bag and books:
I exaggerate, these were Jessie’s books for her field guide course last year, but still: weight. So we took very little food. At Oddballs we bought their last potatoes and onions and then we pitched our tent. Not like these wimpish days when the tent is pitched for you on a wooden deck with shower en-suite!! We were like this:
Nowadays New Oddballs is soft and squishy:
Here’s Aitch in the Old Oddballs Palm Island Luxury Lodge – and the wimpish new arrangement!
Luckily, the rest is still the same! You head out on a mekoro with a guide who really knows his patch:
You pitch your own tent on an island without anyone else in sight:
And you enjoy true wilderness. When you get back, Oddball really does seem like a Palm Island Luxury Lodge:
There’s a bar, there’s ice and cold beer, gin and tonic. You can order a meal! And – NOWADAYS! – a double bed is made up for you, ya bleedin’ wimps!
Jess having fun on her baking course with Maria of Sugar Me Sweet!
She has to buy some strange stuff! Gum paste, cornflour, chocolate chips and baking slabs, cake pop sticks, etc!