‘… so if you see ANY tortoises inside the perimeter, let me know immediately so they can be…’ (I briefly consider using the words ‘exfilled from the theater of operations’, but then think better of it)
… ‘removed’. (this is after all a family-briefing)
I spent my Sunday morning hauling rocks off the mountain and building a tortoise-proof fence. I am quite proud of my engineering prowess, although it remains to be seen if those cunning reptiles have been completely thwarted. Their slow demeanor belies an ancient guile that should never be underestimated.
This is all for their own good. I know lines like that get bandied about quite often, but in this case it really is. We took the cover off our pool this morning. The shelled ones like to come down off the hillside and party on the cowling. In any event, suddenly removing this device may lead to a mass drowning event… which I am keen to avoid.
Which, for some reason reminds me of a philosophical thought experiment. (It goes something like this) We are happy to swim in the ocean, even though there undoubtedly dead bodies floating in it, but we are reluctant to swim in a pool with a dead body floating in it. Somewhere in our mind there is a volume of water to dead body ratio that we find acceptable.
All of this means that the tortoises can no longer find their way into my back garden… which is sad because I find their presence calming and zen-like. I thought about building a more complicated version of my border-wall so that I could channel them away from the pool and still enjoy their grazing, but aesthetically (and maybe practically) I couldn’t really make it work. Turns out building a wall has (unintended) consequences. Who would have thought?
Also the Maine Coon… which will, like all cats, likely turn out to be a vicious murdering psychopath… best to separate the two now already before the one discovers the other. I’m not sure how much damage a cat can do to a tortoise, but I lets not find out.
… we are also getting our new GSD puppy soon. Technically available on Christmas day, but hopefully slightly sooner. Christmas day seems like a poor choice to add a land piranha to the mix. Besides we are planning an Omicron super spreader event for that day. Wait… *clears throat* what is the peep-limit that can gather indoors and weigh up the potential risks of their own actions and then make a grown up semi-informed decision about whether to toast baby Jesus en-masse with Moroccan style lamb and Gin and tonics? I mean it will likely change before then anyway. Its always changing. We are definitely not seeing anyone, ever, don’t send anyone to check.
In other news my sister and her two boys were here for the week. I was a good uncle and took my nephew snorkeling for his birthday…
This is a good low tide spot, calm, shark-less and there is quite a diverse range of aquatic life for a skillset that can’t really get you further down than just below the surface. The water was a chilly 13C (55F)… which is pretty much right on the cusp of my lower limit before I need a wet-suit. The waters off the Cape where the cold Benguela current churns into the warm Aghulhus current tend to vary chaotically, just the week before it was five degrees warmer and so much more pleasant.
Picked up a starfish off the bottom at about 3mtrs for the boys to experience. A juvenile octopus got away from me though. Starfish are still quite sucky though. I think I would have quite liked going snorkeling for my tenth birthday. Vaguely I wonder what I did to mark my first decade… can’t remember that far back.