STRESS TIMES 10

A whole lot has happened since my last posting - some good - some bad ……….. but everything is manageable at the end of the day.

I got a great little email from my Tjom Carl Awsumb in Memphis which just about made up for everything we have been through these last few days:

The way that you wander is the way that you choose. 

The way that you tarry is the way that you lose.

Came across this quote. You’ll never be guilty of that. 

Thanks so much Carl ……… you have no idea how that little pearl of wisdom helped me get through this last week.

Before flying to Cape Town on the 25th to be there with Pat for the upliftment of the furniture I had to make damn sure - one way or the other - that the floors in the house were complete and covered with plastic ready to receive all of the furniture and the 100 odd boxes that my amazing wife had packed virtually single handed since I left on the 2nd of May. Yes, there was the odd bit of help from my daughter Chavane, and my cousin Colleen who bit the bullet and helped tape up boxes for about three hours last weekend. But that was it ………….. everything else was a “Single Handed Round the World” Yacht Race type effort …………. with the only comparison I can make being the amazing Dame Ellen MacArthur who held that particular record for a very long time.

The floors?  We had everything done on the evening of Saturday the 19th (and they looked absolutely amazing), but had not banked on running short of mixed satin stain for the pine floors in the entrance hall just one metre short of the front door. Everywhere was closed, so we had to re-sand with the big floor sander on Sunday morning after taping down plastic to all of the other floors ………… first thing Monday I picked up more stain - mixed and applied. By 3pm it was ready for buffing and the final coat of clear Polyurethane. Strict instructions for everyone to stay out until the following morning - lay the plastic and get on with all of the chasing, breaking and building in of lintels etc ready for our arrival back on Saturday the 26th.

The upliftment of the furniture was enough to drive anyone entirely around the twist - they finished late, and we had arranged to have the family and a few friends around for snacks and drinks at Chavane’s house at 6pm - so somewhere well past 7pm I had to go down and do all of the locking up leaving Pat to fill all of the conversational holes …………. the evening didn’t turn out too bad all in all, and I must thank Dave Rattle for making the effort to pop by, Dales and Meryl whose support we know we can always rely on, Neil and Maria whose company we simply can’t resist and with whom we are tackling the Chobe Cut Lines and Kwai River wilderness in September …………. and of course the Frylincks (Joe and Simone), without whom no drinks and snacks function of any description deserves to be called that. I have to say a very special thanks to Dave for the fantastic selection of  music that he put together for us on six CD’s - all with fantastic pictures of his family and friends and grandchildren etc., etc. (Well done Dave …………. a sterling effort as always which kept us happily entertained the entire way to Bathurst on Friday). You really are so deserving of the description “Muso” - in every possible sense of the word …………. and herewith a belated public thank you too for that amazing evening evening of live music that you and Caradoc provided at our 40th Anniiversary at 27 Tahiti Close - it will always be remembered. We have our 50th coming up in December, so perhaps the two of you want to start putting a playlist together :o) - and figuring out where you're going to do it.

On Friday morning Pat and I were at the house at 6am doing final sweepings and clean-outs - dropped the keys at the agent - and hit the road by 7am. Driving is always relaxing for me - I am in total control and my mind has space to play ……………. so yes - while 11 hours on the road is stressfull for some, it is something I cope with very well. Saturday however was entirely another story. 

We awoke to the most beautiful autumn day here on the McCreath farm just below the Toposcope ………. I took Jesse out for a quiet walk beyond the fences that contain their dogs and she thought that she was in doggy heaven. There was cowshit everywhere just waiting to be rolled in - vistas that went on forever - pink-blue skies that are so beautiful they are virtually indescribable. She was happy beyond any words, and her entire bearing made it entirely obvious.

Biddulphs had told us they would be there at 10am so we made a point of getting down early enough to ensure that the place was properly swept and ready for the cargo …………… again, Jesse thought she had landed in a parrallel universe to the one she woke up in and spent an entire two hours charging around the property investigating every nook and cranny - a grin from ear to ear glued to her face the entire morning. She managed to nail her first ever mole which she proudly showed us, and had to be stopped and put on her lead before she nailed the neighbour’s chickens that had wandered onto No. 6. We quickly found the holes in the fence and took the necessary measures.

Calls and apologies - calls and excuses ……… they eventually arrived at 3.30pm by which time my dander was really up, but I tried to be civil. at 7.30pm I began to lose it when all of their labour were standing around chatting on cell-phones instead of off-loading. Yes ……… I lost it, but less that 40 minutes later everything was done and dusted …………….. an exercise which could easily have taken another 3 hours at the pace they were working.

Petrus and Luke boarded up the outstanding holes, and me and the two girls headed for the Ploughman’s Pub …………… two well-deserved double Captain Morgan’s and Coke, one of Michelle’s amazing Chicken Pies in front of a roaring fire (I was in shirt sleeves and it was getting very cold …… thanks Patrick, you saved my life), and almost all was well with the world again. Off to bed ………. never-ending cramp virtually the whole night ………. up in the morning and out and about in search of somewhere to watch the Grand Prix. Rosemary Davidson and her delightful sister Charmaigne (whom we had lost touch with for close on 20 years or more), resolved the problem, and we all ended up at the Highlander in Port Alfred for a lovely lunch in warm sun and the chance to pop in every now and then and catch up with what was happening in Monte Carlo ……………. pretty damn boring as always - but what a beautiful place to have a motor race.

Then last night saw all of my systems shut down - one by one - I was cold, depressed , fillibrating, cramping all over, and just about ready to give up on the whole damn shebang. I took four Rescue Remedy, three Disprin, and hit the sack. 

This morning another Pink and Blue heavenly sunrise - Jess and I hit the fields for a walk and suddenly all was good with the world once again.

We really got stuck in today and a “WHOLE LOT” got done ………….. still not 100% - but with my good wife’s steadying hand, right now tomorrow looks like it will be an even better day.