I'm a Lumberjack and I'm okay...

but that's as close as I get to the contents of Monty Python's famous song. I had to cut down a couple of trees at the weekend, as we'll be building a new lounge out the back of the house (basically straight out into the garden from the French doors) in a couple of weeks time. Now I understand just how fit the professional lumberjacks are...on Monday morning I could hardly move. Everything hurt...my hands were raw, my back felt like I'd slipped a disc, and my arms and legs were covered in scratches from branches. The two BIG trees next to the house are the ones I took out...a pity they had to go but they were pests and the roots would interfere with the new foundations. I estimate they were about 31yrs old, each, going by the number of rings I could count on the bases.

What if your words could be judged like a crime?

On the way in to the office the other day, I was listening to the song "What if", by Creed and it got me thinking about some of the stuff I read on some of the blog sites. The piece that came to mind was the last line of the song, which forms the title of this posting. We've all seen and read in the past about terrorist and paedophile rings that have come under scrutiny and the arrests from content of websites and the information in emails, by the authorities around the world, and rightly so. But...What if these authorities took it to another level and followed up on everyone that put something on their blog about alcohol or drug (ab)use, wife/husband beating, theft, or other such misdemeanours? Is the content of a blog sufficient to arrest and convict someone? What about privacy or the freedom of speech issues? The lyrics from the song are available from the Creed site at this link...read them...thought-provoking...

It's been a hectic couple of weeks...

which, aside from writers block, is why I've neglected posting anything, or reading up on my regular blog bud postings. Up until last Friday, I was putting together a presentation to a potential client, which caused me untold stress cos I'm not the most relaxed speaker in front of a crowd. And here I was, presenting to a group of senior bank officials on Operational Risk and how it related to corporate governance and business continuity issues. Okay, too much information for some people, I know, so I'll leave it there save to say I was my usual nervous self and ended up reading a load of the slides verbatim (priceless advice I received from a mate at action cricket). It went okay and the customer decided that it was a whole pile of information to digest, but they'd like to get together in a couple of weeks to talk some more. Sounds good to me. That was Friday morning... Straight after a chat with a colleague and a bit of breakfast, I sped off home to get changed into more comfortable attire as we were heading off for a long weekend of fly fishing, chilling out, drinking and all the other things that go along with such a weekend. At around 2pm, we hit the highway, with friends in hot pursuit in their own pickup, as they'd be coming back a couple of days before we did. After a 3hr drive, we arrived at the reception of Verlorenkloof Crofts, (pronounced "Fir Looren Kloof") where we checked in. A croft is the last thing I'd call this place...mansion or palace would be more like it (the picture on the front page of their website belies the size of the place). The house slept 10 people at a time, two rooms with double beds and the other three with singles. Our nearest neighbours were 200m away and we had virgin African bush all around us, five trout dams and a coursing river within 5mins of the front door (or from any of the six entrances to the house for that matter). The first night was spent drinking around the outdoors logfire, a little chilly cos it's still winter here, swapping general chit chat...guys talking fishing and cars, ladies talking pilates exercises, kids, shopping and other girlie stuff. All in all, a nice peaceful evening and total destreesor. First thing on Saturday morning, Chris and I took a quick scout around the fishing dams and river, a quick breakfast and then off down to the Reception area so that we could watch the All Blacks giving the Wallabies a rugby lesson. It's amazing how a bit of fresh air can knacker ones self. And the weather was fantastic, belying the fact that winter is still here...easily mid-20C temperatures. Mind you, some more drinks around the fire didn't help either, but it was the best night's sleep I'd had in a long time. Awake and refreshed, it was off to the dams, for some one-arm exercise and to teach Chris how to cast a fly, not that I'm the most adept but I'd had one lesson and had been fishing a few times so could pass some of my experience along. After a couple of hours, back to the house for brunch and a midday read before some more fishing in the afternoon. I went away with the intention of finishing a book that Cuzzin Ross had given me when he was here on holiday (Catch-22 by Joseph Heller) but, instead, found a copy of Len Deighton's "MAMista" and ended up finishing it by Tuesday afternoon. More in a future posting about Catch-22... Sunday evening was, again, spent around the fire, swapping stories and pouring drinks for each other. And another glorious night's sleep... On Monday morning, Chris and I again went down for some more fishing, but Chris still didn't catch a fish. That afternoon, after lunch, Chris and Marcelle left for home and Steph and I were on our own for a couple of nights...some quality time we deserved. Actually, to put the whole trip into perspective, Steph took me away for the trip as an early birthday present, and Chris and Marcelle came along cos we had so much space to spare and cos we've become quite good friends (Marcelle is Steph's pilates teacher). So Steph and I spent Monday afternoon and night in each other's company, chilling out, having a few drinks around the fire, chatting. As she put it, not a bloody TV in sight. I noticed a few clouds scudding across the night sky and remarked that it looked like a cold front arriving. How right I was. Tuesday morning, we awoke to find that winter had returned and the mountains around us were swathed in a carpet of cloud. That's where the pictures accompanying the piece come in. I took along two cameras, figuring that we could both use one each, as we'd probably not be in the same place as each other all the time. The only problem was that I hadn't taken along the battery charger and all the batteries were flat, with none available at the little shop...so we had to use Steph's camera phone for at least a few pics, though the images don't do the scenery justice. Ah well, teach me another lesson, won't it...? So, in reaction to the weather, we froze our butts off at the dams for a while and then decided to spend the rest of the day in front of the indoors coal fire, reading and chilling. That's when I finished MAMista...not bad, except that all the main characters die in the end, very unusual for a Deighton novel. The way he described the lovers dying made me choke, emotionally. Read it for yourself. Anyway, I did a little work on my laptop and Steph did a little studying, whereafter we spent some more time in front of the coal fire until it was bedtime. Steph had tried a little flycasting on Tuesday morning, and was determined to better Chris and actually catch something on Wednesday. Unfortunately, that didn't happen, but I can say that I believe she casts a fly better than he does, so maybe she'll keep at it and we can do something else together in addition to our other activities. In the end, I totalled five trout, of which I returned the smallest of about 300gm. My largest fish was 1.1kg, with two others of about 600gm each and the fifth touching on the 500gm mark. Not a bad haul, with us taking the two larger fish home, and giving the other two to Chris and Marcelle to eat at some later point. Marcelle took a photo of the largest fish, so if I get a copy of it, I'll post it at a later stage. Reluctantly, we left Verlorenkloof at around 11h00, headed to Lydenburg for a quick breakfast and then hit the road back to Shit Towne (or Johannesburg, as it is more commonly known). By the time we arrived home, it was just before 4pm and there was just enough time to get changed and head off for the action cricket finals. We came in third in the cricket, but as usual, winners at the drinking afterward... All in all, a great "weekend", very relaxing and good to get some casting practice in again. A big thanks and "I love you" to Steph for the present...

Whether or not anyone cares...

I'm still around. It appears that a serious writers block has hit not just myself, but about every one of the blogs that I regularly read. So, for want of something better to write about, here's another joke... A 2nd grade teacher asks her class to use a sentence with the word "definately" in it. Young Suzie puts up her hand, and at the teacher's request, gives her answer, "The sky is definately blue." To which the teacher replies, "Nice try, Suzie, but it's not always true as the sky can sometimes be grey when the clouds come over. Nice try though." Johnny then puts up his hand and asks "Miss, does a fart have lumps?" and the teacher replies, "No, Johnny, it doesn't.". "Well, in that case" says Johnny, "I've definately shit myself." Have a great day, y'all...