The building trade in Maritzburg is the worst I’ve ever dealt with. They’re useless, useless.
Its my xmas phone call from the old goat. He’s been in the old age home retirement village for something under a year now and has finally achieved one of his many goals to change things there, to improve things. Meaning, to do things his way. He has covered in the small veranda that was useless, useless, so he can now use it as a workshop. Or at least he has nearly covered it in. The steel framework for the windows and the door has been installed after much fighting with a guy ‘who Sheila has known for forty years. You’d think he would do my installation right!’ Now he’s fighting with glaziers. The glaziers in Maritzburg are the worst I’ve ever dealt with. They’re useless, useless.
I would do it myself, but I cant lift my right arm and my ladder has one dodgy leg, like me. My leg is 98yrs old, so it has an excuse. Otherwise I would just do it myself. They say I must use 4mm glass, but I’m going to use 3mm. I’ll save over R500. I should just do it myself.
I’m tired of cooking, eating, cleaning. I enjoyed it for a while, I was like a little girl playing house, but now I’m tired of it. It’s not productive. Cook, eat and clean; I’m not achieving anything.
So now I’ll have to wait till after xmas. I think I’ll phone them on Monday and shit all over them! What do you think?
Me, bellowing down the phone: NO, I DON’T THINK THAT WOULD BE A GOOD IDEA. PHONE THEM AND BE NICE AND SAY PLEASE.
Good. I’ll do that then. I’ll phone them and shit all over them.
** sigh ** I’ll get on now with preparing our lunch. His phone call interrupted the proceedings. I’m busy glazing the gammon.
The ole man is thinking burial sites. He has found out it costs around R11 000 to be cremated and he thinks that’s an awful waste of money. Someone also told him you can bury yourself anywhere. Especially in your own backyard, “There’s nothing to stop you”. As a mad-keen DIY guy, he thinks that’s a helluva good idea.
I said “Maybe, but the hard bit will be reaching up and shovelling the soil on top of yourself”.
“YOU can do that” he says.
I said “I don’t think I’d be allowed to. Maybe your friends meant literally YOU can bury yourself in your backyard, but maybe it would be illegal for ME to do it?”
“Oh” – That’s got his active 94yr-old brain thinking. He’s plotting something, you can be sure.
Lotsa rain in Tegween (eThekwini, Durban). The garden looks like a series of lakes and the pool is overflowing. I had asked Tobias to fill it up just before the rains started, so I’ve actually paid for some of the water flowing out over the lawn! Luckily I have a bakkie now, so I shouldn’t get stuck. If it carries on I’ll be wishing I’d bought a 4X4. Thanks to the new patio roof and a flat roof over the new scullery we have the sound of rain on a tin roof again. Haven’t had that since Vrystaat days. I love it. Music to my ears!
Finally extracted me digit and have started some DIY stuff at last. Bookshelves, mainly – to act as a room divider to shut off the guest loo from direct view! Tobias has been a big help, working in the cottage as it’s too wet to do any gardening.
Now I must get round to fitting a new geyser – OK, having one fitted. Been without hot water in the house for three months (we have hot water both in Cecelia’s room and in the cottage, though). I reckon I’d have got it in the ear after three DAYS if Aitch had been around! Three HOURS maybe!
When the kids moan I just assure them it’s character-building to carry hot water from outside to the washbasin, and to go out to the cottage to shower, towel over your shoulder.