Go Darke

I’m feeling the mileage he gripes, as he flexes out his fingers and then attempts to Aikido out the accumulated arthritis. As context I offer up that I played Metal Slug on an (old school) cabinet yesterday. I’ve still got it, he attests, although not really a skill-set you can put on your résumé¹… and really, today, I’m wondering if it was worth it.

[1] Although now I am tempted to create a Linkedin profile purely for this purpose. I mean I’m probably not THAT good… but Linkedin is all about hilarity and disingenuousness. Apparently not a real word.

My hands have taken a beating this week. Doing quick cuts on the mitre-saw, holding the wood in place with my left, but without the required seriousness, a piece of half-sawed blue-gum caught and spun, smashing down on my hand. (I briefly considered lying down on the workshop floor and passing out) At a bare minimum I figured I was going to lose a nail on that hand, but so far, everything seems to be stubbornly resisting separation. Then to add insult to injury I (also) savagely chopped myself with a pair of garden shears, ha ha. *rolls eyes*

Sunday was Kon-tiki. Which, for some reason, I thought all the Scouts in the world did.

Kon-Tiki refers to Scout raft building competitions held by Scouts South Africa and Scouts Australia. Named after Thor Heyerdahls Kon-Tiki expedition of 1947, teams of Scouts aged 11 to 17 compete to build and live on a raft for a weekend. Support crews compete in other events while the raft is afloat.

But apparently not.

Taping both hands up I took the cubs (7-11 year olds) through for the day. They had a series of competitive games planned for the youngsters and we ended up coming joint 5th, which out of 20 teams I thought was a good showing.

Send your kids to scouts. They’ll learn important life skills that will stand them in good stead for the rest of their lives…

… like building a trebuchet. Which will come in handy when we have to retake Jerusalem and bring peace to the Middle east².

[2] Vaguely I wonder if I have to tag that as sardonicism? I’m mean I probably do.

Friday night we had the district Campfire, which is a basically a bonfire and songs for the regional groups (troops and packs)

Yours truly did a resounding rendition of ‘Do you know the Muffin man?’, sporting a wooden spoon, chefs hat and a pretty floral apron. I rocked it, obviously (you’ll just have to take my word for it)

Plea’s of ‘please don’t embarrass me’ by my daughter were noted. And then disregarded. (as they should be)

We ended up at Burger King. This is my absolutely exhausted, I just want to go home face. But because we’re from a small town (and therefore have nothing cool) its a (much anticipated) tradition to go to Burger King afterwards if we’ve trekked ‘across the mountain’.

Imagine still being impressed by Burger King and bottomless soda I muse.

I am obviously too defeated and world weary to be charmed by carcinogens and gluten anymore. Still I am also starving by this point, so…