There actually was a real CNUT...

and it turns out he was an English king, reigning between 1017 and 1035. A number of you may know that my Cuzzin Ross has a blogspot called CNUT. I was always under the impression that it was a play on another word, spelled with the same letters (go figure it out for yourselves) in the same vein as FCUK is used in the fashion world. Turns out, the real Cnut was a "colorful" character himself... On my browser, I inadvertently typed in CNUT and hit enter without selecting the rest of the expected URL and was surprised to see the response...try it, it'll probably link you to the same text I found...otherwise click on the "English King" URL above...

Devastated...

We found out just the other day that the amazing fly fishing retreat we went to in August, Verlorenkloof, burned to the ground in a huge veld fire. And it wasn't just the croft we stayed in either, it was most of the twenty crofts in the complex. To think that we were there just three weeks before, and that it's going to take a couple of years to rebuild, is just mind-blowing. Even worse is that it happened on their own 9/11... The Verlorenkloof website has a series of photos, taken by one of the residents, of how the fire started and spread. Scary stuff...I've seen veld fires over the years, but nothing like this. Sad to think of how it looks now, and even sadder to think that I didn't get any photos last time cos I was daft enough not to have taken a battery charger...

I wish I was one of these people...

a "Trench Inspector". I kid you not. A fucking Trench Inspector, how laughable is that? We are into Day 4 of our build and have been waiting for the aforementioned gentleman to come and inspect the foundation trenches before the builders can lay the foundation concrete. He eventually arrived at 10h30 this morning and promptly left two minutes later, having taken one and a half of those minutes to walk through the house to the trench and back to the front gate. In the other thirty seconds he was here, he introduced himself, admired our pool, looked into the trenches and grunted "okay" in the builder's general direction. We waited three days for that, and I don't even want to know what he charges for his services. I could be a fucking millionaire... Imagine if the Allied and Hun troops had to wait for a Trench Inspector in WWI? They would have called it quits and fucked off home for a drink and to watch the game on telly...

Day 1 of the Build...

went pretty well, with the builders about half a day ahead of schedule. This is because they were able to lift the old patio a while lot quicker than they expected, partly because it was so old, but mainly because the previous builder had done such a shitty job. This view shows the patio area before the foundation dig started.




This view shows the foundations partly dug at the end of Day 1. As I type this entry, the guys are just finishing off the rest of the trenches. Thankfully, they haven't hit anything worse than a few roots from the old trees. I wish it was over already so that I could be sitting at my new pub, with a cold beer in hand.

How do you like my pussy...

cat and our two dogs? I thought it was time I introduced our pets, as they share a large part of our lives. Katie is a long haired Norwegian Forest (I never heard of them before we got her either). We got her from our local vet who was looking for a home for her. She'd been rescued by a family and was found in such a shocking condition that she had to be shaved to get all the knots out of her hair (a shaved pussy, imagine that.....enuff said). Bonnie is a Wei- maraner, originally bred by Austrian royalty to hunt wild cats (and not rabbits as we were told by the breeder when we got her). It's no wonder that the cat keeps her distance from Bonnie, whose pupils dilate to the max every time she sees the cat. She's my dog, obedient, faithful, quiet... unlike Duke, a Dober- mann, whose litter was specially bred as family dogs. He certainly is that, as the neighbour's kids just about have to go home for a shower every time they come over to visit when Duke is finished licking them. He's a powerful dog, not knowing his own strength at times (he even gave Steph a couple of cracked ribs once when he knocked her over). He thinks he's the "big pisser" in the house and he likes to have power games with me to try and prove it...doesn't always do what he's told, ignores commands, and so on. Otherwise we get on okay, but he's Steph's dog. One day I'll post a nice pic of Steph and then everyone can get to know her too...

It's been a while...

so goes a line in the Staind song, and it's been a while since I had the time (or inclination) to post a blog entry. In the last week or two, I've been for a new job interview (and shortlisted for a 2nd interview next week), worked my arse off in the garden after the trees were taken out, worked my arse off in the orifice (as I like to call it, compared to office which sounds so drab), finished making a frame for a mirror that Steph wants to put in one of our bathrooms, been in endless meetings at work, and...and...and... But best of all, was my birthday on Wednesday 31st (and no, I'm not telling how old). To me it was just the day after Tuesday, but it was made special thanks to Steph, not only for the gifts she gave me (not necessary, but really appreciated), but also for flying my mum up from the coast for a surprise visit. I was working from home (as I do regularly) and had popped out to drop a friend off at the bus station (she was going to visit her father who, coincidentally, also shares the 31st as his birthday, though he's a FEW years older than myself) and found it strange when I got home, that Steph's "Pose-mobile" (Peugeot 206CC convertible, pose factor 10) was parked in the garage. Stranger was the fact that I had also been on the orifice instant-messaging system with a colleague earlier, whom Steph had said she was going to meet for coffee, who had told me that she hadn't seen Steph all day. I saw Steph sitting under the thatch next to the pool and suddenly one and one made eleventeen and I knew that she had arranged for someone to come and visit. I walked into the garden, looking up at the upstairs window, expecting to see the visitor there, but there was no-one. Turns out, my mum was actually hiding behind the pool table and jumped up singing "happy birthday to you, you were born in a zoo..."...thanks for the compliment mum. To cut a long story short, mum was with us until Sunday morning, we had a blast while she was here, and I dropped her off at the airport in the Pose-mobile (driven like the 2L motor should be driven - white-knuckled - mum must have thought I was trying to get rid of her). We're going to go down this weekend so that we can see dad as well (cranky old git that he can be, he's still great to sit and have an intelligent conversation with, and we go fishing and drinking together), and to do some salt water fly fishing too. We'll take the Pose-mobile down so that it'll take us a mere 5hrs or so, instead of the usual 7hrs in my pickup. Looking forward to going down to the coast again. Anyway, that's me...hope everyone else is healthy...