If it were up to me, (and personally I think it should be) we should confer sainthood on whoever invented the chocolate croissant. After all we’ve bestowed the laurels of (extreme) holiness on those who have achieved less. Like Mother Teresa. Pretty sure she hated chocolate1
[1] Based on having read Christopher Hitchens critique. And before you ask, I trust Hitch 100% more than I trust the Catholic church.
Ambrosia.
The wind is howling outside, shotgunning rain against the window panes of my local. It’s ostensibly a bakery, but supplements that income with decent enough coffee and other foody things. I’m being double-teamed by the wood-fired ovens on the one side and the (actual) fireplace on the other. Which means, today especially, its cozy AF. Its also cheap… with handwritten invoices. Which makes me cheerful (in a tax avoidance kinda way).
Dropping off the girls at school this morning, the dad in front of me got out of his truck wearing shorts and flip-flips. Ha ha. That really is a thing here. A meme-ish contrivance, the (local) male of species here does not feel the cold. Me, ensconced in a hoodie and a jacket, buffed up and beanied bracing against the gale feels diminished by his alpha.
‘No brain, no pain’, I mumbled to myself.
We’ve been domiciled here now for three weeks. The first ten days we all had the ‘rona2, so really its only been a week (and a bit) where we have been hale and ‘healthy’ again (and technically been allowed to be out and about). BUT we’ve had so much to do around the house (which is looking less like a coterie of looters have been through it now… but only just) so we haven’t really minded the (mandated) isolation bit.
[2] It was so mild for all of us. Flu is way worse. BUT we sucked down on ‘horse-dewormer’ which doesn’t have the weird stigma it does in America, and has been used by humans here since forever. So I don’t know if that helped or not.
I’ve been getting stuck into the basement, painting out the storeroom… so that I can install shelving and transition all our #$@& from the one room to the other. Soon we will be able to invoke the hallowed tenet of ‘out of sight, out of mind’. I super exited by this prospect.
I hate painting tho. Less than I hate digging, but its still up there on the detestables. I miss my old man. He drove me mad… but it was nice having company when getting stuck into a project like this. I also miss his incredible strength… having a strong work-buddy makes a huge difference in what you can achieve (in terms of what you can lift and hold for example, while the other person tightens bolts) Things we don’t appreciate in the living.
In any event we are turning the basement into an office and a gym. And probably… because its quite large and cavernous a space with some broad utility, we will set up the wives drums down there… and maybe I can have an area where I can play with my Lego.
The girls have adapted remarkably well. Their new school is good and they’ve been getting to grips with the new fauna. This Angulate Tortoise is in our back garden. These along with the Guinea Fowl, Franklins, Bell frogs and Mongooses (I desperately want to write Mongeese to pluralize them) are likely the most ubiquitous creatures around the house.
A picture of a fat little Dassie I took on our walk yesterday. I couldn’t remember and had to look up what the non-colloquial name was for it. A Rock Hyrax… but amusingly this was in my search result.
I think I might have discovered my spirit animal3.
[3] ‘Go for the eyes Boo! GO FOR THE EYES! Ruuuuusk!’ – Minsc, the Barbarian.
I don’t think I would pose for selfie with a Dassie next to my face. Admittedly I have childhood trauma from being bitten on the lip by the kindergarten hamster. I also got bitten by a garden variety gecko once. And then I was mauled by Boerboel. And a baboon.
Maybe nature is trying to tell me something.
Could it not have just sent me a text?
Go Darke 