Africa, Home, KwaZuluNatal

Driveway Drizzle

It’s drizzling and the driveway looks sparkling and green-ish – needs weeding one day – on the brick from my kitchen window, so I took a picture which doesn’t look as good as it does. The camera – or the cameraman – hasn’t captured the mood . .

Yesterday the meadow popped some tiny little flowers when the sun popped out:

Your pinky nail would cover them.

In the drizzle the squeakers (Arthroleptis wahlbergi) are squeaking and the robin is prrrp prupp (Red-capped Robin-chat).

~~~oo0oo~~~

Africa, Aitch, Family & Kids, Home, Nostalgia

Blue Wall leads to Blue Door

One wall in the new kitchen in River Drive ca.2002 had to be cobalt blue. I dunno why, mine is not to reason why. Aitch said it must be cobalt blue and so of course it was.

– Xmas day 2002 with Tommy, 1 year and 2 weeks old –

So when the post-Aitch renovations happened ca.2012 in Elston Place, there had to be some blue. I made the scullery and laundry doors blue. I looked for cobalt blue, but this was the closest I found.

– smiling Cecilia Shozi at the blue stable doors –

~~~~oo0oo~~~~

Africa, Family & Kids, Food, Home, Life

Blockages

Mom Mary has constipation. Don’t tell everyone, but its just a fact and its not funny. I even put a bomb up and nothing happened. You know, Granny Bland used to get constipation and now here I am getting it. A mere seventy years later you can be struck with a family ailment out of the blue.

Rose is the matron at the home and she loves Mary. I told Rose I had constipation. This morning she came to me and said “Have you been to the toilet yet?” I said no, and she said “You know, Mary, you’re full of shit.”

Africa, Aitch, Family & Kids, Home, Motorcars_Automobiles

Techno-fob-ia?

Stefanus wrote about a new thing. I paraphrased his rant:

What a bloody stupid idea. The ‘Key Fob’ or ‘Keyless Start’ or ‘Keyless Go’ or ‘Proximity Key’. I have always thought it was a stupid idea but I wasn’t sure why. Tonight I found out why.

Our friend John gets home with his wife after several stops, including our place for a while. Cannot find his ‘fob’; realises the car might have started because his wife had the other fob in her handbag. Panics.

After much driving around and searching in various places, including our place, it ‘turns up’ under his drivers seat where he insists he had searched several times. But ‘it had gone into a crevice.’

Steve expostulates: It’s a lousy idea! You could leave your key fob behind and drive 300 km without knowing you don’t have it, because the car opens and starts with the proximity of the duplicate ‘fob’ in your wife’s handbag. Frikkin stupid, really. Although in hindsight he could have narrowed the search by checking to see if the car would start without his wife’s keys being nearby . . .

~~~~~ooo000ooo~~~~~

I wrote:

Aha! A technophobe!

I’m going to ask them to implant mine in a crevice so I can never lose it.

And I won’t let them fob me off.

~~~~~ooo000ooo~~~~~

Steve:

Technophobe – yes. Ask my older brother.

Ja, but how will you avoid forgetting the rest of your keys – the ones that are attached to the – er – transponder? Having your own practice I am pretty sure you have a bunch of keys like a prison guard anyway.

~~~~~ooo000ooo~~~~~

Me:

Me? Keys? Nope.

I am lucky enough to have an “Open Sesame” lifestyle. The practice is always open when I get there at a leisurely hour, and my home is always open. Overrun with bloody kids who all know the 1299# that opens the gate from outside. Me and security are strangers.

Thank goodness for Raksha and the keys at work and Cecelia and the no keys at home.

Sadly, I do have to carry the one single key for the 2007 Ford 4X2 3litre diesel double cab bakkie. White. I lost the canopy key so now it doesn’t lock. Help yourself to my toolbox back there. At times I do spend some time looking for the damn thing on the odd occasions when I put it in a clever place instead of the usual on the kitchen counter. For some reason my Ford key says ‘Mazda.’

~~~~~ooo000ooo~~~~~

Steve:

I should have realised I was speaking to the wrong person. We tend to lock stuff by and large. Someone came and had an overnight scratch around Wendy’s unlocked car a while ago. Front door gets locked at night or if we are not around. We regularly get wide-eyed warnings from the neighbours about dodgy people seen snooping around the street.

Office keys: I am the first to arrive by a half an hour (OCD) so key needed.

~~~~~ooo000ooo~~~~~

Me:

I am weird that way. Partly slackness, partly – slackness. Been very lucky and fully aware that could change.

1984 – Marriott road flat – nothing. No incidents.

1989 – 7 River Drive Westville – pre-kids. Zanele said she saw an umfaan in our room and she said ‘Hey! Wenzani?’ and he scuttled off through the burglar bars, which were big enough for him to get through.

Years later Aitch found her Zeiss binocs were missing. ‘Stolen!’ she announced. I thought no, ‘Misplaced.’ She thought ‘Poephol, stolen!’ Two years later we found them in the socks drawer.

Then post-kids I got hijacked and taken off in a friend’s car. That wasn’t good.

2003 – 10 Windsor Avenue Westville – Break and enter while we were out and Aitch’s binocs WERE taken. Also her wedding ring. She replaced only the binocs with a shiny newer model – insurance. I still have the new ones.

2005 – 10 Elston Place Westville – nothing.

The reason I have a keypad at the gate where friends just enter the last four digits of their cell number and Open Sesame is I hate closed gates. I once – ca1982 – waited on the pavement in Argyle road outside the palatial home of one of Barks’ friends, ringing the doorbell in vain. Party inside, so they couldn’t hear. Pre-cellphone days. Eventually went home and resolved never to live in a fuckin prison. Still don’t.

Weird? OK.

Confession: I do insist the kids practice common sense security and keep doors locked if they’re alone at home and when they leave the home unattended!

~~~~~ooo000ooo~~~~~

umfaan – youngster

Hey! Wenzani? – Oy! Whatchadoin’?

Poephol – husband

~~~~~ooo000ooo~~~~~

Talking of phobias, isn’t this a lovely one?

The Fear Of Giants: fee-fi-phobia

Aitch, Home, Nostalgia

And a Party in a Pear Tree

I think my favourite Aitch Art piece hanging on our walls was the Pear Tree ceramic. I broke it.

Smashed! DAMMIT!!

Oh well, we’re going to buy . .

One box of wine

Two packs of beer

Three sticks of glue

Seven . . . . dancing . . . . girls

and hold a –

Party-y in a Pear Tree

And we’ll fix it – yep. Louis is going to be the GluMeister, I’ll keep it lubricated, and Petrea will bring a semblance of order.

Bits n Pieces

~~~~~ooo000ooo~~~~~

Update: A preliminary Cocktails and Curry evening has been held in which a Mak Martini was drank; also a cream vodka with mint sprig; and a medicinal flu jab consisting of one part gin one part vodka one part vermouth and freshly squoze lemon and orange, garnished with a slice of lemon and topped up with Little Miss Muffet’s whey orange juice from Tropika. Oh yes, and some practice glueing was done by the Glumeister.

Who also made the curry, fresh from New Delhi, the gurugram district. It was delicious, spicy, tasty, filling, warming on a chilly evening. Jess supplied dessert: Baked cheesecake, dark chocolate, double-thick cream; Then strong filter coffee in zebra hide cups.

Africa, Birds & Birding, Home

Dawn Chorus

Woken this morning by the ringing call of an African Fish Eagle in the Palmiet Valley. Well, a Palmiet Right Bank Undershrub Minnow Eagle really, giving a beautiful rendition of the fish eagle cry from under a bush just outside my window. Five forty four ay emm.

To claim ownership of the talented mimicry, this was followed by the Natal Robin’s signature descending preep-proop preep-proop, immediately followed by a medley of crowned eagle-fish eagle repeated three times, both calls done really well, just like the originals, but quiet and close. So you might say more a ‘Ground Eagle-Minnow Eagle’ piano diminuendo medley.

Here’s a robin recorded by Mick Jackson at Bazley doing the crowned eagle and more:

This was rudely interrupted by a squadron of nasal flautists – Westville Pterodactyls launching themselves off my roof and receding down into the valley. No piano here; this was forte crescendo. All except one with a fear of heights who was rooted to the roof apex going Ma! WHY!!?

A herd of gumbooted elephants then thumped onto the roof right above my head, leaping off the strelitzias and the Aussie camelfoots and gallumphing across as only vervets do, causing the pterodactyl straggler to lose its fear of heights and baleka.

Now all that was left was a different, ascending proop-preep proop-preep. The softer chirp of a bladder cricket or katydid in the shrubbery.

——-ooo000ooo——-

Natal Robin – Red-capped Robin-Chat

piano diminuendo – soft and getting softer

forte crescendo – loud and getting louder

Westville Pterodactyls – Hadeda Ibis

baleka – bugger off; fly away; fluck, as in ‘where’s that bird?’ ‘It flucked’

bladder cricket – bladder grasshopper really, but maybe a katydid?

The recording is from Xeno-Canto – sharing bird sounds from around the world.