Wine fair

Deceptive Dan suggested we hit an all-you-can eat event at Hemingways this weekend.  He later admitted that all-you-can-eat was a sell, because he didn't think I'd go for all-you-can-drink.  Well played Dan.  It was the Taste fair; sort of a Top Billing'esque wine fair, come I sell wine and thus have a stall... event.

I'm about to generalize.  There were people who knew what they were buying, and one or two who knew what they were selling.  However.  There were a lot of people like me, who thought they were coming to an all-you-can-eat.  Not so much in the ate-a-lot vein, rather, I saw a lot of people tending toward the dubious Checkers Rose' stall - which had more in common with Coco's mix-a-drink than a Western Cape vineyard.
Im not interested in wine thats sweeter than Coke.

There's definitely something to the 'cheese and wine' combo, unfortunately there was only one cheese store, and about 10 wine merchants.  Eventually the Simonsberg salesman asked us if we'd ever had cheese before.  Seriously... he asked us that.

Finally, the Boks prevail.  The wine bonanza was gratefully interrupted by a big screen and some un-Top Billing'esque spectating.  The wine merchants true colours flew brightly.

Garden

Part of our lease agreement is that we look after the garden.  This seemed like a reasonable request when we moved in three months ago; the grass was short, garden beds were dead and most importantly - it meant our rent would be less.  Thus, on Saturday we found oursleves doing the first of as few as possible horticultural sessions.

Nic manned the weed eater, and mowed the lawn (apt).  I raked up an Egyptian-grade pyramid of leaves and CP turned a bush into a pile of sticks.  After 20 minutes we were all getting into it.  Activity would ease, then someone would say "...I think I'm going to edge that bed..." and some furious spade-work would ensue.  The rake would be called in, more bushes were attacked, black bags were filled and then the cycle would repeat itself.

All the while, tenant Greg and his china were having a braai on the lawn, presumably burning more of the poison tree.  They weren't talking... weed-eaters are like that.

Went for my first breakfast run type ride.  It was just after lunch, and we didn't eat at any point... but it was a start.  Theres something immeasurably cool about riding three abreast down Gonubie main road.

Swim

Now is always the best time.  It isn't always, but it is more often than you'd think.  Now wasn't the best time to resurect my swimming career. It was cold - I was wearing a speedo. I can't think of an analogy which captures the situation richly enough.  The Joan's heaters are broken. Im not venturing back into the icy waters until the sun, or their electrician, comes to the pool party.

Having had a legit job for a while now, Ive realised something.  Few people are qualified for their jobs.  Qualified by education - but rarely by actual, demonstrable skill.  I include myself in that.  It seems like that time between high school and job, spent eating rock buns in the cafe and hiding rubbers in Dave's accounting file/bag/pencil case/pockets.... anywhere really... didn't do much other than pad my CV, which I'm still yet to deploy.

I spent today animating some ribbons.  Im about to retake the reigns on a client service, account management project... tomorrow I may cure cancer...  I studied Economics... and some IT(IS) stuff... conveniently de-emphasized.

Cops

I still, sporadically, play Ultimate.  Haven't been in a while, but headed down to Nahoon on Sunday morning post-Church, post-first breakfast to join the crowd.  I was chatting to Roelof, fellow disc-sportsman, when a fairly relaxed polisikop rolled up next to us.  He didn't get out of his car.

Cop: 'You got a license?'
Rog: 'Me?'
Cop: 'Yes'
Rog: 'No, but I have a sense of humour... you?' (I didnt say that)

I then positioned myself between him and my bike so he couldn't see I was missing a mirror and dug in my bag for my folded up learners.

I thought it was interesting that he didn't say, 'Can I see your license....'.  Clearly a half-empty kind of guy.

Runners World thinks I can write.  Fo'sheeezy. (Get a cup of coffee, its long)

More insight into the world of bikes.  Bike shops are run by bikers.  If you can't see where the problem might come in, just review every sterotype you've banked of the average beer bellied, rough, hard living two-wheeler.  Now throw in some admin and client service.  What have you got?  Not much, thats what.

Stealth biker, coming soon.

Long Weekend

Lately, I haven't been sick much.  Sidebar: I discovered that the worst part of moving out of the house, as in family house, is getting sick.  Being sick, and staying by yourself sucks.  Period.
That aside, Ive had a healthy run for the last few months.  As such, I couldn't really complain when I got struck down with who knows what... especially because it was, objectively speaking, a runny nose and mild light headedness.  I can deal with that.  As for timing... 'What the helllll' Mother Nature, did it have to strike on Saturday afternoon... thats all I'm saying.

In an afront to all things IT guy, I'm no longer single.  I haven't clarified Cath's position on appearing in these posts, so I'll leave it at that.  Im stoked though, to say the least.

I've managed to not cook since Monday night, in hindsight, Im not even sure how.  I'm not hungry either.  Also  not sure if any remaining success in the fridge will have retained its wholesomeness.  That's something about potjie - it doesn't sell itself on looks.

Potjie

In aid of Woman's Day we were informed that our house would be cooking for the girls up the road.  Last week I was MC, and had 45 minutes to sort the meal out.  This week I was again in the line of fire, only this time I had literally the whole day to prep.  Infact, apart from watching 'The Pink Panther 2'... a chicken potjie was all I had to show for my 11hrs of conciousness.

Step one, CP and I cleared the garden bed to make way for 'Awesome fire pit'.  Conversation went something like this.
Rog: I was going to clear this but I dont have a spade.
CP: Lets just pull it all out.

Rog: This one's vas, not going anywhere.  Don't even bother.
<CP removes plant in question from ground>
Rog: Awkward.

Following our conquest of the plants I go and ask tenant Greg if I can buy some of his wood.
Rog: Greg, howzit.  I was wondering if I could buy some of your wood.
Greg: Hectic man, uuuh, that woods actually from the Poison Tree.
CP:  Ill go get some from Spar.

Three bits of blitz later, a restoration of my pride and the fire was... on fire.
CP: So...... wonder what we could do while this burns down.

10 minutes later...

Rog: What the hell.

Potjie was a success, there is currently a lot of success left in the fridge.  I hope to dent it at lunch today.

Materialism

Turns out subscriber Kyle was hording a PS2 all along.  I'd like to think that the reach of this blog is so vast that I was able to source a Playstation through one of my readers... only he sits next to me, and if I stretch out my left hand I can poke him in the eye.  After Church last night, I sat like a 12 year old in a bowl of Sony spaghetti, wiring up my childhood dream.

After 3 games, and 3 defeats, CP and I found ourselves discussing politics, and lusting after a bigger TV.  There may be merit to this whole materialism story.  Then Nic got home and announced we'd scored a bigger TV.  There may be merit to this whole 'If you think it, you can do it' story too.

The weekend was spent in Katberg, and then after that, recovering from our trip to Katberg.  A bunch of us went trail running... and then trail walking. I didn't anticipate doing any walking, but then I hadn't anticipated some of the gradients we'd encounter either.  It's a ridiculously beautiful place. I made as much effort as I could to take it in, while I wasn't focused on not letting anything out.  Definitely keen to go back next year for round 2.

Among my feats of manliness last week, I: suspected Cat's house was burning down.  Ran faster than a middle aged woman down a dirt road.  Contemplated assassinating a friend at a stop street.  Drove a Lamborghini.