Negative Soundbyters – Good Evening! I have just had a power nap, usually something equated with the afternoon, but I needed to summon up some creative reserves as today in the swamp I was confronted by more spreadsheets than you could throw an accountant at. When I finally made it back to the sanctuary that is Foxholme, Rafe needed bathing and putting down, and I only drew breath once Mrs H and I sat down for some very tasty lamb, beans and butternut. I then crawled onto the couch and closed my eyes for 30 minutes. Mrs H walked past, raised an eyebrow, muttered “how peculiar” (she was most likely questioning why I was taking a nap before bed time – fair point) and disappeared upstairs. I am not sure how long I will last, so this edition might be written over two evenings!
How about something of geopolitical significance….?
Cape Town, my home town, is about to run out of water. On the 12th April, “Day Zero” as it has been termed, water will no longer run from the taps. There are exceptions for basic services, like hospitals (and one hopes for fire as the Cape is prone to fires at this time of year) but Capetonians will have to queue at one of 200 hundred water points throughout the city and collect the 25 litres of water allocated to each person. Quite what you do if you are a pensioner or a single mother or disabled I have no idea. I haven’t carried 25 litres recently but that is equivalent to 25 one litre bottles (proper higher grade mathematical deduction there Hoddy!) and knowing how cumbersome just carrying a pack of four are from Sainsburys – well, it’s going to be a nightmare. People become less accommodating when it comes to basic necessities like water running out and will it be, “Let me help you with that” or “Hand it over or else”….*
The politicians have arrived at this a little late – in South Africa it’s surprising any arrived at all – and there continues to be some confusion as to whose responsibility it is to make sure alternative plans (well any sort of plan!) are enacted to prevent the City from spiralling into total anarchy. Cape Town is run by the Democratic Alliance; call me a cynic but let’s just say the national government (read ANC) hasn't exactly run to its rescue. The blame game is therefore at full tilt; unfortunately as much as the DA might be justified in getting out its very large axe and grinding it for all its worth, the electorate isn’t making that connection at present; call it irrational but that’s what tends to happen when you wake up one morning, turn on the tap to wash your face and no water appears. It could well cost the DA dearly when it comes to election time….eish!
It worries me that my folks will be going through this without me there to help them. However as long as they can access their daily allowance and get it home safely, I know that they will muddle through. Humans are very good at adapting to changed circumstances; while it is nothing compared to what they will go through, I remember Mrs H and I not having any hot water for a few days in winter. Yes we had a kettle but I had to draw on an inner reserve to wake up at 5:30 in the morning with no central heating and boil a kettle for my bucket shower! Let’s just say I became very efficient in the shower!
I could say please pray for rain but it isn’t the rainy season; Day Zero will soon be upon Cape Town. Pray that people remain calm and united in the face of this disaster.
Big Love to All.
Hoddy XXX
Wheels.
I remember getting my first set of wheels; it was a Golf and it largely saw me through my university years until I managed to write it off early one Saturday evening. Luckily I escaped unscathed but my little car was not so fortunate; not even had Volkswagen deployed their best German engineers would that car EVER had started again. Thankfully my mother had a car which I she kindly let me borrow right up to the point where my sister wrote that off as well. Needless-to-say my parents were not happy. But thankfully we have both become a lot more responsible since then and neither of us own a car, so you’re safe! (That said Mrs H has a car which Mrs H drives; I sit in the passenger seat and moan about the traffic.)
But there is a new addition in four wheels now; he hasn’t quite taken to the open road yet - he still needs to master turning – but the enthusiasm is palpable. His name is Rafe!
The little man is just about 6 months and being in the 98th percentile for both weight and height means that he is a slightly bigger unit than many other babas of similar age. He is still having a long hard think about whether it’s worth trying to turn over and when we practice “tummy time” he can’t quite work out why he doesn’t move a millimetre even though his little legs are moving overtime. I try and explain that his arms and hands need to play a role as well; he looks at me, has a good dribble and then rolls onto his back. (He can only roll in one direction.) Basically lying on his back and beating all the dangly toys and trying to pull them into his mouth suits him just fine!
That’s until Kellie’s sister very generously bought him a baby walker for Christmas. Initially we thought he might be too small for it but if your baby’s in the 98th percentile and destined to having to squeeze into everything we saw no harm in trying it out.
So Mrs H plopped him in and we stood back to see what would happen. He looked back at us also wondering what would happen. As parents trying out new things we clapped our hands and cajoled him to take his first machine aided step. And hey presto he did just that! One tentative step was followed by another and another until he was managing a full lap of his play area, steered occasionally by his parents.
Now he has worked out that if he pushes his tummy forward and pumps his little leggies as fast as he can that the walker builds up momentum and almost carries him along – generally headlong into the kitchen cabinets. This means he gets stuck which perplexes him. He looks to either Mrs H or I as if to say: “Why is this thing in my way?” and if we don’t rescue him he reminds us that shouting loudly for attention is still an option.
I hope that he works out in time that there is only one winner when colliding with immovable objects but until then he is quite happy bashing and crashing around his kitchen circuit, safe in the knowledge that his parents will always come to his aid if his power steering fails him!
OUT :)
Pic of the Week
Where to from here?
