Good evening Negative Soundbyters! Is the weather beginning to turn? Two things happened this weekend which might lead one to believe that winter is beginning to recede: 1. I put on a pair of shorts and 2. I fired up the braai (barbeque in UK parlance). Yup I put the Caspers on display (my legs are so white they make every child’s favourite ghost look positively tanned) and retrieved the firelighters and coal from the depths of the basement to herald the start of the braaing season.
Like many things in my life these days there was an added dimension: a six-month old determined to try his hand at the braai tongs and an equally determined father making sure he didn’t accidentally set his son on fire! Instead I let him suck on a firelighter….(only kidding…it was made of plastic, part of a starter fire kit for toddlers…again only kidding:))
Without wanting to blow my own trumpet (but I will) the steaks were cooked inch perfect; even Mrs H had to begrudgingly accept that I had smacked it out of the park. (I think I can feel my own head swelling slightly!) We ate late afternoon which is always a risk because Rafe tends to be closing in on purple hour and that either means lots of strangled egret cries combined with the air raid siren or mellow-yellow chilled babe dude vibes. Thankfully we got the latter and we tucked into our steaks while he bashed-and-crashed his way around the kitchen in his baby walker. He is still working on his steering, but he doesn’t seem to have any problem touching every handle and knob on his way round; almost as if to warn us that when he is strong enough that he WILL attempt to open each one….
What of events of geopolitical significance…
Big news out of the homeland: Number One is now officially Point One. Yup Jay Zee has resigned and Cyril Ramaphosa is South Africa’s new No. 1. Cyril feels like a more able pair of hands having played a crucial role in the negotiations that lead South Africa out from the darkness in the early nineties. He is ex-union so has a feel for the masses, although the billions that he amassed on leaving politics and entering business, has probably put a bit of distance between him and your average unemployed South African township yuff. But hopefully all that wealth should mean that he is not corruptible and will enable him to tackle the many issues that the motherland faces without fear or favour.
And then across the Atlantic another shooting at a local school leaving 17 kids dead. It is horrific and yet there doesn’t seem to be any politician with the stomach to take on the gun lobby. It’s seems that peddling in “thoughts and prayers” is a lot easier than campaigning for more stringent background checks, the banning of certain types of rifles etc etc. I googled the Second Amendment and it reads: "A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.” I am not sure the authors of said amendment meant that to apply to an individual who was a couple of Buds short of a cold six pack and who had bragged on social media that he was going to shoot up a school…um…no. But common sense is in such short supply these days that this latest massacre will become yet another statistic until more “thoughts and prayers” are offered up…..eish.
And on that note let’s move onto something a little more in keeping with a gentle Sunday night….
Big Love
Hoddy X
The play park.
For some reason I have avoided the play park. After all Rafe is still a baby, I am still a “New Dad” and it just looks intimidating; full of nervous parents casting watchful eyes over kids who have no sense of self-preservation.
But not Mrs H.
We were taking a stroll on Saturday afternoon; I was reflecting most of the afternoon sun (I had my shorts on) and Rafe was as cool as a cucumber being pushed by Mrs H in his new Maclaren buggy. The play park loomed up and Mrs H said: “Should we give Rafe a go on the swings?” It felt like she was asking my opinion but it was a rhetorical question because no sooner had the words landed on my ear drums than the Maclaren was pointed towards the gate of the park and in we went.
The park itself is impressive. Swings, jungle gyms, slides, climbing castles – you name it, every conceivable piece of equipment to facilitate a visit to the A&E with a broken arm or leg. The kids were loving it though; there was a palpable air of excitement interspersed with the odd scream of joy from the likes of Little Jonny (matched with an inward sigh of relief from Jonny’s parents) as he barrelled down a slide and then shot up the side of a jungle gym in a manner that would have made Bear Gryll’s proud. (As an aside a pop-up bar in a play park would do a brisk trade; anything to take the edge off as you watch your bambino climb up a ladder into a wooden tower only to rappel down the other side!)
We managed to dodge Little Jonny and located an empty swing. Mrs H retrieved Rafe, plonked him into the seat and gave it a gentle push. I am not sure what was crossing his mind at this point but if it was absolute glee he was doing a good job of hiding it. He managed to get his arms slightly tangled in the chains connected to the seat and his bum-bum wasn’t properly positioned which meant the chair tilted to the left. He didn’t look comfortable. I was expecting him to engage the siren, but he just gave us both a withering look as if to say, “Get me back into my Maclaren before I take my mitts off!”
Needless-to-say we beat a hasty retreat and found refuge in a shop that sold beer. It won’t be long before we are back at the park most likely at Rafe’s behest – it’s just too much fun – and I will be watching him imitating Little Jonny - at times with my heart in my throat!
OUT :)
Pic of the Week
What Rafe thought of the swing...
