Damn this Evolution thing...

these baboons are just getting cleverer and jumping higher than ever before...

A Local Fishing Spot...

For some or other reason, it's known as "Cemetery" and yet there isn't one within a huge radius (I've checked on Google Earth).

I think it might be because the water is "dead", in other words, I went fishing there over last weekend and caught fuckall...




The scenery, though, is great from that part of the world and the water in False Bay is at least 10degC warmer than on the Atlantic Ocean side (even though the bay is fed by the same ocean).

I did, however, go down to the Kalk Bay harbour wall the other night and, although the conditions were pretty crap, managed to catch my first squid ("chokka" as it's known here). I got it on my second cast and spent the rest of the almost two and a half hours flinging the lure into the water for fuckall. If I'd known that was going to be the case, I would have buggered off home for a nice scotch right after that, but as the same going "c'est la vie". By the time Fishman and the Kosi Fishing Team come down to the Cape (we're talking about Morgan Bay as our next trip) I'm hoping that we won't have to buy bait as, with my new fishing licence, I can catch up to 20 chokka per day. Some of them we'll probably eat at home (lovely calamari), but the majority will be frozen as bait.

Honestly, Officer...

I don't know how those weeds from my garden got into those cut-off plastic bottles. A big boy must have done it and ran away...

Actually, I found these two "weeds" growing next to our driveway and I suspect the removals guys might have had a smoke during a break they had, and thrown the seeds from their mix into the sand. These are the results and I'm keeping them as a novelty. I'll keep you posted on their progress...

It was time for a change...

to the look of this blog.

And maybe, just maybe, it'll stop Wreckless from bitching about the length of some of my postings. Now they'll at least look shorter due to the wide-screen format.

I like it...and that's what matters...

Our new lodger...part 2...

has flown the nest...literally...

Aside from noticing that mommy-dove had not been around to feed the lodger in the last couple of days, we have had some storm-strength winds recently, and I found he/she/it sitting on the little wall directly below the nest. Whether it had been blown out of the nest, I'm not sure, but that is likely.

I approached it to see if there was any damage and it flew into the middle of the garden. Again, I approached to see if I could pick the lodger up to put it back in the nest, but the dove then flew over the property wall and we have not seen it since. The dove's wings were well developed and most of the juvenile feathers had been shed, so I'm hoping he/she/it will be okay...

Good luck, little dove...

Our new lodger...

In a tree right outside our lounge sliding door, a dove built a nest. Here is the fruit of her loins, aged about two weeks...

Oor Hoos...

Some pics of the house we are renting for the first six months of our stay in the Cape...

The garden (what little there is of it)


The front door (look, no burglar guards)


The master bedroom, nice and airy (all bedrooms have these doors leading out into the garden)


The kitchen (the photo belies the actual size)


From the Dining Area looking out the sliding door to the garden


The front of the house, to the carport


The view out the lounge picture window (not pictured is the double garage, behind the guest house, both out of view to the right)

Since I've been in the Cape...

it appears my mates have gone all "responsible" on me.

Wreckless had a good reason for not being with us at Quartz for a few pints last night (Lucky L's prize-giving at school) so it was to be just Fishman, Corner, Jacko and myself sitting out in the "fresh" Shit Towne air getting wasted. Or at least so I thought...

We all pitched up around 5pm, as arranged, with Fishman and Corner already there when I arrived. Jacko arrived a couple of minutes after me. I arrived in SWMSBO's 206cc cabriolet, top down, to the gay jeers and pelvic thrusting motions from Fishman (no, neither of us are gay, the car just attracts weird pelvic thrusts from jeering fishermen).

After pleasantries, I had my third beer of the day having been at a team lunch earlier. Jacko arrived just in time, while I was standing at the bar buying drinks, so I got one for him too. Sitting in the warm, humid, Shit Towne air wasn't all that pleasant as the few weeks I've had in Cape Town has acclimatised me to the cooler air and I was sweating buckets.

It was great to sit and talk shit with the guys again, as it is one way of venting one's frustrations and, being in Joburg, those frustrations build pretty quickly. I couldn't believe the difference in the characters of the people in the different cities. It's as if Cape Town is not even part of South Africa.

We chatted until about 19h30 or so and when I went for a pee, I came back to find Jacko ready to leave, with Fishman and Corner also pleading responsibilities. I finally managed to convince Corner to have an ABF (Absolutely Bloody Final) drink and we threw another Capn's Organ down our throats then headed into the traffic.

On the road back to Buccleuch, the storm that had been brewing over the past couple of hours finally let loose and there was some serious lightning and hard rain that slowed the traffic hooligans down to a scream.

Feeling a little peckish, I stopped in at KFC for a quick Sweet Chilli Wrap and then headed for our ex-neighbour's house where I've been staying for the last couple of nights. We ended up sitting chatting and watching some or other daft TV movie and I was surprised to see that it was after 23h15 when I made my way to the room I was sleeping in.

It's too bad that Wreckless couldn't join us, but I might be back in Shit Towne again next week (still to be confirmed) and I'm sure we'll get together then. And I don't think the others will need another formal invitation to go out for a couple of hours.

Friends are the only thing I miss about Shit Towne and it's always great to see old friends, even if they do have other responsibilities to take care of...

Any ailments you want sorted out?

The doctor is in the house...

Son of a Bitch Fish...

The parish priest went on a fishing trip. On the last day of his trip he hooked a monster fish and proceeded to reel it in. The guide, holding a net, yelled, "Look at the size of that Son of a Bitch!"

"Son, I'm a priest. Your language is uncalled for!"

"No, Father, that's what kind of fish it is - a Son of a Bitch fish!"

"Really? Well then, help me land this Son of a Bitch!"

Once in the boat, they marveled at the size of the monster.

"Father, that's the biggest Son of a Bitch I've ever seen"

"Yes, it is a big Son of a Bitch. What should I do with it?"

"Why, eat it! Of course. You've never tasted anything as good as Son of a Bitch!"

Elated, the priest headed home to the rectory.

While unloading his gear and his prize catch, Sister Mary inquired about his trip.

"Take a look at this big Son of a Bitch I caught!"

Sister Mary gasped and clutched her rosary, "Father!"

"It's OK, Sister. That's what kind of fish it is, a Son of a Bitch fish!"

"Oh, well then, what are you going to do with that big Son of a Bitch?"

Sister Mary informed the priest that the new Bishop was scheduled to visit in a few days and that they should fix the Son of a Bitch for his dinner.

"I'll even clean the Son of a Bitch", she said.

As she was cleaning the huge fish, the Friar walked in. "What are you doing Sister?"
"Father wants me to clean this big Son of a Bitch for the new Bishop's Dinner"

"Sister! I'll clean it if you're so upset! Please watch your language!"

"No, no, no, it's called a Son of a Bitch Fish."

"Really? Well, in that case, I'll fix up a great meal to go with it, and that Son of a Bitch can be the main course! Let me know when you've finished cleaning that Son of a Bitch."

On the night of the new Bishop's visit, everything was perfect. The Friar had prepared an excellent meal. The wine was fine, and the fish was excellent.

The new Bishop said, "This is great fish, where did you get it?"

"I caught that Son of a Bitch!" proclaimed the proud priest.

"And I cleaned the Son of a Bitch!" exclaimed the Sister.

The Friar added, "And I prepared the Son of a Bitch, using a special recipe!"

The new Bishop looked around at each of them. A big smile crept across his face as he said, "You fuckers are my kind of people!".....

Cape Fish 1 - Kosi Fisher 0

I registered on a local website that specialises as a forum for Cape-based fishermen, and a valuable site it is too...full of great information and a good bunch of guys to chat with. "Kosi Fisher" is my forum-name seeing as it is popular to do it this way rather than having your real name bandied about all over the place.

So, on Saturday I drew a blank.

After stopping off at "Misty Cliffs" to see who belonged to the blue bakkie with the Cape Town Fishing website sticker, I made my way along to a spot called "Blakes" where I was going to throw my first line in anger in Cape waters. I noticed that there were a few guys coming off the beach at the AECI pipe and checked what was happening there, but the wind was pumping through and I guess that was the reason for everyone coming off?

Anyway, I headed back to the bakkie and went past Blakes to see that the water was way out and the wind was whipping around there too, so I made my way to Gordons Bay New Harbour wall. The wind wasn't too bad, even though it was straight in the face and the water looked good for some toothy critters, and I put out a nice medium-sized head...2hrs later, I pulled it in to see that some minnows had been having a go at it.

Even hanging about there for another couple of hours, changing baits between chokkka and sardine, I still drew a blank. Then, at about 4pm, the wind picked up and I couldn't even throw a 6oz more than about 50m so I gave up. Probably just as well...as soon as I got into the bakkie, the rain came down and never stopped...

I stopped off at Kalk Bay Harbour on the way home and the guys were hauling in some nice sized chokka on lures...might try that myself sometime and save a few bucks on bait.

Ah well, there's always next weekend...

Trousers, or not, that is the question...

RIP, boet...

I got a call at around 7h30am today, of the saddest kind.

It was David, my ex's new husband, letting me know that my ex-brother-in-law, Chris, had passed away at 10h45pm last night. I had heard last week that he had suddenly been struck down with a virulent form of cancer that had ravaged his body and left him paralysed from the waist down in the last couple of weeks.

Since "V" and I divorced about 8yrs ago, Chris and I kept in touch now and then and got together on occasion for a beer and a laugh. What made this news worse is that Chris and I had gotten together in Shit Towne about just six months ago over a couple of beers and he appeared to be in perfect health. I don't know if he already knew he had the cancer, but he didn't let on and he certainly didn't mention anything. In fact, he was his usual joking, laughing, cycnical old self that I have always known which makes his sudden passing more difficult to comprehend.

Chris always knew life as needing to be lived, and there was never a dull or boring moment in his life. Sure, he made a couple of mistakes along the way, as we all do, but he always bounced back as humans tend to do and got on with living his life the only way he knew how to...at full speed ahead.

Saddest of all is that Chris's father passed away a couple of years ago and now the family has to endure this heartbreak too.

Chris's widow, Belinda, is a lovely lady who, as much as she took Chris's shit in her stride, loves him for who he will be remembered as...himself. Chris also leaves two sons, who were the shining lights in his life.

I can still picture Chris's broad smile and I hope it never fades from my memory.

Take care, boet, and say "Hi" to your dad for me...go well...

There are strange things happening...

on some of the blog comment Word Verifications...

I was on TCD's photo site earlier and the word was "minging". While I didn't quite agree with Blogger's description of her site, it did get me thinking that there have been a few strange words popping up recently.

Once I'd posted that comment (and inserted "minging") the new word came back as "brasts". While this may be an incorrect spelling of a personal favourite part of a woman's anatomy, it would appear that Blogger have got themselves a new programmer with a sense of humour.

I know a couple of other bloggers have had some strange words as well...feel free to send them as comments to this posting...just for a laugh.

My Baby's back on the blog again...

makes her sound like some sort of a junkie, doesn't it?

TCD has started another blog, this time showing her photography talents, and some of her pictures are really good.

Check them out here...

A Weekend of Ups and Downs...

it has been...

Saturday started off as a nice peaceful day until the Scotland vs South Africa rugby match at 16h30pm. You can imagine how confident I was when, as an ardent Scotland supporter, it seemed that we were going to win the game...even the referee thought so as he was giving us much of the possession.

Then you can imagine how much I was shouting at the television set when that same referee gave the game to the Springboks...

The Boyz in Blue gave their all and were, aside from the referee, the better of the two sides on the field and should indeed have won the game. As it was, the 'Boks stole it with a result of 14-10 after the Scots went to sleep in the first twenty minutes of the second half.

Incidentally, living in SA, I support the 'Boks and the other SA national sides (except Banana Banana, who are a totally fucking useless bunch of overpaid prima donnas like their international counterparts) against whomever they are playing. All, except that is, as a born Scotsman, if the 'Boks are playing Scotland I will support the great land of my birth...and I will sing our national anthem "Flower of Scotland" with as much glee as it was written.

My daughter, born in Durban though now living in Glenrothes, Scotland, supports the 'Boks and was at the Murrayfield stadium taking some really good pictures, as shown below. She was "gutted" at half time seeing as her team was losing, but took great glee in sending the photo of the final score in response to my "send me a photo when Scotland wins" text message I sent her with the return message "here's your "winning" score"...thanks for nothing, babe... :-)

Here's some of the photos...


On Sunday, we awoke to a gloriously calm day, hardly a breath of air coming off the ocean, so we decided to go for a walk on the beach with the animals. This time, however, at my insistence we were going to start our walk from Kommetjie beach in the opposite direction to where we normally start our walks.

I found a little parking area right off the beach and piled the dogs out, on their leads. As it was the first time we had walked here, I thought it prudent to reign them in for a little while first.

The area onto the beach is quite rocky and a bunch of the local "subsistence" fishermen were launching their boats from the slipway. We walked in a northerly direction, towards Longbeach where we normally walk and let the dogs loose to explore. They had a great time until, a little while after we visited the wreck pictured below, fuckwit Duke decided a little boy was having too much fun with his dad. The brown bastard attacked the little boy, and although did not puncture the skin, did mark his ribcage and the little guy will have some bruises over the next few days. We all shouted and chased Duke but by the time we realised that he wasn't fully playing, he had made his mark.

Needless to say, we apologised profusely but the damage was already done and from there my day was totally fucked, I felt so shit. I put Duke back onto his lead and training collar so that he could not enjoy the rest of the walk while the two girls romped around. I think they could also sense something was not right as they were subdued for the rest of the walk as well.

Not that I care much, it is apparently in dogs' nature to attack a being that is exhibiting the same kind of behaviour that the little fella had been. I say I don't care as, if it happens again, Duke will not live to see that night.

I say the event really fucked up what had started as a great day as we went to the Barnyard Theatre in the afternoon to watch "Rock Me Amadeus" and I just didn't enjoy the show all that much, thinking about what had happened on the beach earlier.

Here's photos of the wreck, taken with my camera phone. I paced it out to be roughly 77m from stem to stern but I can't find out the name as it is not on any website (or our GPS) that I can find...

This is my drive home from the office...

as if you needed more reminding that we have great views around here...these are coming up over Ou Kaapse Weg, past Table Mountain National Park and into Noordhoek with Longbeach in the distance...

Some Pics from our short time in the Fair Cape...

Sunset 1
Sunset 2
Sunset 3
Bonnie on the rocks at Soetwater
Strange cloud formation at Soetwater
Another shot of the sunset (all four sunsets on the same evening, different times)
The dogs and SWSBO enjoying Longbeach
From Longbeach, looking at Noordhoek
Chapman's Peak from Longbeach
The dogs, going moggy, on Longbeach
More of the dogs and SWSBO on Longbeach
I wanted to buy this place in Camps Bay, but at $18m, I thought it a bit overpriced (each unit, regardless of floor, has its own pool)

Spot the Difference...

Before...
After...

It took me all of ten minutes in the local licencing office to change registration numbers. In Shit Towne, it would have taken all morning.

What is even more amazing is the willingness to help and manners the local government employees have. They don't have the negative "fuck you" attitude of the Joburg government employees and here they actually like their jobs. Maybe they just know that their customers are actually keeping them in those jobs.

The guy in the licencing office gave me the form to fill in, marking which sections I had to complete and, even when I'd missed a piece, he asked me for the old licence form and completed the form for me!!!!!!!! Unheard of in Shit Towne.

At the Telkom office, I was shown the same courtesy. Given a form showing what details were needed, called "sir" or "Mr DMDad" whenever I was spoken to, I was astounded by the manners and even commented on it to the branch manager. Telkom are so jacked up down here that they had our ADSL line installed this morning, on time and as arranged, by another friendly person calling me "sir".

In general, the people are 1,000,000,000 times more friendly than any of the government or municipal workers you come across in Shit Towne. The people in the street don't know you from a bar of soap and yet they call each other "sir" or "madam", they say hello to each other (with a smile, not a grimace) and actually mean it if they ask you to have a nice day...

Does anyone still doubt whether coming to the Cape was a good move??? I certainly don't...