DOWN IN THE DUMPS
DOWN IN THE DUMPS and the sad lack of understanding between my buck and I
I have this theory, rigorsly tested through personal observation, so we are not talking science here,
However I still like the idea, namely
‘In this life, in this universe in fact, the rule is… that we all get ….. Exactly what ‘ we think’ we deserve’
Soooo I had good cause to worry when I started to get the bleaks, it roles around every now and then and I start to shoot myself repeatedly in the foot. First I started to puff at the tobacco again and the weed and am back to my bad old ways again.
Why I wonder do so many others and I allow ourselves to be taken down by ourselves? It is a mystery within a conundrum but nonetheless something I certainly do with monotonous regularity! Just when I should be taking the high road I start down the dark way, with an urgent need to strangle the witch.
Self-loathing takes the reigns and leads us to perdition.
Some time ago we got ourselves a small herd of Blesbok, nice little chaps with white bums. Now the definition of a farm animal is……..’It’s ability and propensity to go through a gate’ once that level of understanding has been reached, the beast is ours to do with as we want, there has to a lesson in that.
Blesbok do not know about this sort of stuff and hold small confined spaces in deep suspicion, making the task of persuading them to vacate the spot they have chosen for the one you have in mind difficult.
Having believed the local wisdom, that these particular buck, being so small and or lacking in the ability to jump were containable behind a cow fence and once again I have found that this font of wisdom is sorely lacking in truth!
The beasts were delivered in the back of a truck as night was falling, this sort of enterprise is fraught with difficulties due to the lack of comprehension and co-operation of wild animals to the devious plans of men, so they were late. A couple of likely lads chucked them out into the night which took all of 5 seconds, they were keen to get as far away as fast as possible, and I was 10 grand lighter, just like that! Swift but quite exciting, the first buck and all, and for a couple of days they stuck around before proving all the old codgers wrong and waltzing through the fencing as if it was but décor.
They went over to my neighbor’s recently burnt fields and had no inclination to return, and the constant harassment by my lads and I did not endear them any further. They in fact started to see our quad bikes a source of distinct menace and bolted at the first sight of them with incredible speed and agility soaring over fences with no thought that this contradicted all the road side wisdom re their genus of ungulate!
We did get them back for a short time but as my not so faithful Madotta (young man in Zulu) had neglected to fulfill his duties fence repair wise, so they just strolled through the gap, back to whence they had come, I was not pleased. There was some consolation to this first bash at wild game management, as my neighbor who has a fine game fence lost 30 of his buck, so there really is no knowing, it is all very random.
THE BIG BOYS WITH BIG TOYS LEAVE BIG HOLES
As death visits the valley!
The most sticking feature of Machadodorp is the Dutch Reform Church that looms over the dorp and rings its bell mournfully every hour on the hour. A building which I have studiously avoided for 15 years, but when one of its favorite sons, Sean Klopper, my earth mover man, a keen aviator, a man of strong convictions, family man, a local player in the community, and a man who liked children, in short an nauseatingly nice chap, died in his Gyro-copter, I felt behoove to attend his farewell.
Young Sean died doing his thing which is little consolation to those whom he touched as he really was a lekker oke in the truest sense of the term, he was a man who did it all right and even though he was a deeply involved in a renowned conservative religion, he was none-the-less, surprisingly, not even a little prejudicial of others, though he did make me blush once. Quite an achievement in itself, I showed him this video I got on the net of Jesus singing that famous gay anthem, ‘I will Survive’ and transforming into a raving queen in a nappy that gets hit by a bus, very droll if you watch it but it was obvious that he did not think it was amusing at all, he did not say anything but his silence, none the less shamed me into some serious introversion which culminated in my actually calling him to apologize, an almost first ever, he was a nice guy.
I was having coffee in Nelspruit just the day before his accident and he came past with the biggest chap I have ever seen, at least 7 ft, and a really colossal man. This is a bit of a spooky story in the light of what happened. Sean who was a bigish chap looked strangely reduced in this goliaths shadow who looked for all the world like the grim reaper and to add to the effect said nary a word, just sort of loomed there for a moment and disappeared, really. Also Sean who is distinguished for his ruddy completion was strangely pale and wan, spooky.
Well the funeral was truly a gathering of the dorp, it seemed like every man and his dog was upset at his passing, I thought for a second that even the priest would burst into tears, a deeply mournful occasion, helped by the crushing weight of his Lord as exemplified by the building, I was quite cowed. This was to my eyes a very scary and vengeful God, authoritarian and somber, a hard master to please, with a capital M on the master. Women seemed to be but décor to soften the effect. I sat there in my suit and tie, and like most there contemplated the very tenuous nature of the life we all live, especially when one, in his prime goes like this.
Well the grim reaper is doing the rounds out here and Johann the local poacher and purveyor of his daughters to the trucking trade also came to a sticky end, he lives just down the hill from me and has earned his ten rand working for me occasionally so I was indeed a bit touched to hear his sad tale.
The farm is situated on the slopes of a very steep pass and Johann was returning from some walkabout up the hill and had decided to have a smoke, rest or whatever at a particularly acute turn on the hill, which a large truck loaded with hay and propelled by a loose nut behind the wheel was unable to negotiate, due no doubt to excessive speed, alcohol and stupidity with the inevitable consequence being that it turned arse over tip, and talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time, as poor Johann was crushed under the avalanche of dry grass. Buried in it, to the extent that he was only discovered a few days later! Very nasty and random.
So the area was plunged into mourning that was as is the way of all flesh washed away by the arrival of the rain and the joy that engenders, and also the mud that stills even the mightiest yellow machine. The work in short came to a shuddering halt, to await the resolution of the tragedy.
So none the less nothing stops no matter the human situation, the spring started flowing yea verily a full month sooner than last year, once again proving the perfidy of the alien trees, and we now have a small stream where no water has flowed for many years, the bottom dam is full and the others are also getting more or less their share and their levels are rising, prompting great hope of non leaky dams, always a deep and passionate prayer of new dam constructors.
So a miserable addition to my blog but we will make an effort to make the end of year special special.
I have this theory, rigorsly tested through personal observation, so we are not talking science here,
However I still like the idea, namely
‘In this life, in this universe in fact, the rule is… that we all get ….. Exactly what ‘ we think’ we deserve’
Soooo I had good cause to worry when I started to get the bleaks, it roles around every now and then and I start to shoot myself repeatedly in the foot. First I started to puff at the tobacco again and the weed and am back to my bad old ways again.
Why I wonder do so many others and I allow ourselves to be taken down by ourselves? It is a mystery within a conundrum but nonetheless something I certainly do with monotonous regularity! Just when I should be taking the high road I start down the dark way, with an urgent need to strangle the witch.
Self-loathing takes the reigns and leads us to perdition.
Some time ago we got ourselves a small herd of Blesbok, nice little chaps with white bums. Now the definition of a farm animal is……..’It’s ability and propensity to go through a gate’ once that level of understanding has been reached, the beast is ours to do with as we want, there has to a lesson in that.
Blesbok do not know about this sort of stuff and hold small confined spaces in deep suspicion, making the task of persuading them to vacate the spot they have chosen for the one you have in mind difficult.
Having believed the local wisdom, that these particular buck, being so small and or lacking in the ability to jump were containable behind a cow fence and once again I have found that this font of wisdom is sorely lacking in truth!
The beasts were delivered in the back of a truck as night was falling, this sort of enterprise is fraught with difficulties due to the lack of comprehension and co-operation of wild animals to the devious plans of men, so they were late. A couple of likely lads chucked them out into the night which took all of 5 seconds, they were keen to get as far away as fast as possible, and I was 10 grand lighter, just like that! Swift but quite exciting, the first buck and all, and for a couple of days they stuck around before proving all the old codgers wrong and waltzing through the fencing as if it was but décor.
They went over to my neighbor’s recently burnt fields and had no inclination to return, and the constant harassment by my lads and I did not endear them any further. They in fact started to see our quad bikes a source of distinct menace and bolted at the first sight of them with incredible speed and agility soaring over fences with no thought that this contradicted all the road side wisdom re their genus of ungulate!
We did get them back for a short time but as my not so faithful Madotta (young man in Zulu) had neglected to fulfill his duties fence repair wise, so they just strolled through the gap, back to whence they had come, I was not pleased. There was some consolation to this first bash at wild game management, as my neighbor who has a fine game fence lost 30 of his buck, so there really is no knowing, it is all very random.
THE BIG BOYS WITH BIG TOYS LEAVE BIG HOLES
As death visits the valley!
The most sticking feature of Machadodorp is the Dutch Reform Church that looms over the dorp and rings its bell mournfully every hour on the hour. A building which I have studiously avoided for 15 years, but when one of its favorite sons, Sean Klopper, my earth mover man, a keen aviator, a man of strong convictions, family man, a local player in the community, and a man who liked children, in short an nauseatingly nice chap, died in his Gyro-copter, I felt behoove to attend his farewell.
Young Sean died doing his thing which is little consolation to those whom he touched as he really was a lekker oke in the truest sense of the term, he was a man who did it all right and even though he was a deeply involved in a renowned conservative religion, he was none-the-less, surprisingly, not even a little prejudicial of others, though he did make me blush once. Quite an achievement in itself, I showed him this video I got on the net of Jesus singing that famous gay anthem, ‘I will Survive’ and transforming into a raving queen in a nappy that gets hit by a bus, very droll if you watch it but it was obvious that he did not think it was amusing at all, he did not say anything but his silence, none the less shamed me into some serious introversion which culminated in my actually calling him to apologize, an almost first ever, he was a nice guy.
I was having coffee in Nelspruit just the day before his accident and he came past with the biggest chap I have ever seen, at least 7 ft, and a really colossal man. This is a bit of a spooky story in the light of what happened. Sean who was a bigish chap looked strangely reduced in this goliaths shadow who looked for all the world like the grim reaper and to add to the effect said nary a word, just sort of loomed there for a moment and disappeared, really. Also Sean who is distinguished for his ruddy completion was strangely pale and wan, spooky.
Well the funeral was truly a gathering of the dorp, it seemed like every man and his dog was upset at his passing, I thought for a second that even the priest would burst into tears, a deeply mournful occasion, helped by the crushing weight of his Lord as exemplified by the building, I was quite cowed. This was to my eyes a very scary and vengeful God, authoritarian and somber, a hard master to please, with a capital M on the master. Women seemed to be but décor to soften the effect. I sat there in my suit and tie, and like most there contemplated the very tenuous nature of the life we all live, especially when one, in his prime goes like this.
Well the grim reaper is doing the rounds out here and Johann the local poacher and purveyor of his daughters to the trucking trade also came to a sticky end, he lives just down the hill from me and has earned his ten rand working for me occasionally so I was indeed a bit touched to hear his sad tale.
The farm is situated on the slopes of a very steep pass and Johann was returning from some walkabout up the hill and had decided to have a smoke, rest or whatever at a particularly acute turn on the hill, which a large truck loaded with hay and propelled by a loose nut behind the wheel was unable to negotiate, due no doubt to excessive speed, alcohol and stupidity with the inevitable consequence being that it turned arse over tip, and talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time, as poor Johann was crushed under the avalanche of dry grass. Buried in it, to the extent that he was only discovered a few days later! Very nasty and random.
So the area was plunged into mourning that was as is the way of all flesh washed away by the arrival of the rain and the joy that engenders, and also the mud that stills even the mightiest yellow machine. The work in short came to a shuddering halt, to await the resolution of the tragedy.
So none the less nothing stops no matter the human situation, the spring started flowing yea verily a full month sooner than last year, once again proving the perfidy of the alien trees, and we now have a small stream where no water has flowed for many years, the bottom dam is full and the others are also getting more or less their share and their levels are rising, prompting great hope of non leaky dams, always a deep and passionate prayer of new dam constructors.
So a miserable addition to my blog but we will make an effort to make the end of year special special.
posted by Francis at 9:19 PM
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