NOTES AFTER A LONG BREAK

So here I am back again, with a new keyboard and everything and I had better do another episode or I might never do one again.
So to bring us all up to speed fast, the saga with the influx of natives into our African landscape has been down a few trails. A meeting was called by the evildoer to ‘consult/ inform’ the community as Ged was deeply concerned, or so the invite attested ‘to do the right thing’ so it seemed churlish to refuse.
When I arrived the meeting had already commenced and there was a delegation seated at the head consisting of Barry our local farmers unionist, a dolly bird with ‘personality’ and some chap that looked like he was a lawyer from some American sit com, who was espousing the wonders and delights that he felt was surely evident to even the slowest, of Geds idea to import rapists, cattle and sheep eating, murders disguised as workers into the bosom of our little community.
He had charts and flow meters and all sorts of computer generated gobbildy gook to impress and startle the gathering, and a speaking style that was sooooooo boring and dull that the entire congregation was already in a state of stupor.
He was just getting into his stride when Fishy Tim enquired in the nicest possible way, why the hell this man was presenting a ‘proposal’ about something that we all felt should never happen and was in fact already happening and we were not here to discuss the merits of any ‘proposal’, we were here to see that the illegal activities that were going on, were stopped immediately and that as such he felt that we should take a vote to state as such and until the accommodation of these workers was stopped no one was willing to entertain any proposals that Mr. Smoothie dull as ditchwater had to offer.
No matter how seductive they may be.
This took the wind out of Mr. Boring and Monotonous, who felt that he had been paid to spout bollocks and should have the opportunity to do so, at his leisure, without some grubby chap in a floppy hat telling him to take his ‘proposal’ and stick it.
The vote was taken…. unanimous, but a great deal of heated debate was entered into nonetheless. We had all come to insult Ged and wanted our turn. He was a man alone indeed. Lots of discussion about waste management and other stuff was aired at length, but surprisingly after all these cogent and heartfelt arguments, Ged did not stand up and say ‘Mea culpa and ever so sorry” or volunteer to dismantle his Satanist scheme, buy us all a present, no, no, no, he did not.
The up shot was, what with holidays and all, his mouth piece lulled us into giving him a few days to reply to our he assured us were insignificant worries and concerns, easily side stepped. There was a chap there from the green scorpions which was exciting and made us all feels powerful and filled with the majesty of the law, and it would seem in the fullness of time he did get a letter to cease and desist, which was nice and all has gone quiet, bliss.
The side of the angels triumphed, so far.
My trials with my other neighbors have also seemed to have fallen on my side, having given them every opportunity to back down they pursued me till I reluctantly sent my nasty letter saying they could take their drawings and stuff them, they must get a proper oke to do it, not their web-toed cousin with a GPRS, and they must pay me 35 grand for their share of the fence and bla bla bla fuck you etc.
Well after a bit they have now returned with their proper drawing which has changed the entire picture as they saw it and there is a lot of back tracking going on, but now I am having too much fun persecuting them and am pursuing the matter to the finish, I am enjoying pulling their chain especially as I suspect that we will find that the true boarder line is well inside what they think is their property which will gall.
But I am getting way way ahead of myself, as since the last episode almost six months have passed! Back right back to last Christmas.
I had spent a cold winter watching the dam empty out and the rains never seemed to want to come, I searched the skies, but though the rest of the world seemed to be washing away, for me…. nothing but a bit of drizzle. The pagan rituals were undertaken, Tim in his own inimitable style got some homo magicians from somewhere to bedazzle his vast tribe of little and large black people, with tartrazine in vast quantities to stimulate the crowd. I can’t even remember it anymore it feels so long ago.
And then the relies arrived to finalise the ‘deal’ and have a gay old time in Africa. So it started to drizzle and mist interminably, still no rain as such just miserable, and cold. This was NOT why Sis had come to Africa, and she was willing to complain. We had had such a jolly time the last time we went a wondering that it had been decided to do the same again, but this time through the Transkie down to Pletenburg bay where we were to stay in Howard’s shack on the beach.
Well that was the plan, which was not going well, I had tried to find lekker places to stay but it is not my style to book ahead, just go and see what happens, like last time, but I let slip and tried to book ahead, so the sort of alright came to the front, you only find the ‘other’ places when you are there, first mistake, and the weather was still very English.
We belted down past Ermelo to land in some dreary some star place with a pool near a dam but at least it was now hot and sweaty, still not to madams approval, Nick nearly caught a tiger fish and we had a massage before drifting down through the Transkie.
My my what a peek into the future that was, the place is a toilet, not a soul there knows about paint and the litter is indescribable, Butterworth and Umtata, old colonial towns look like they have been raped and pillaged, repeatedly. The weird part being that the citizenry seemed to be inordinately pleased with the result.
These wonders of mans lack of enterprise and ingenuity failed to entertain so we trundled off, I got arrested for going 180, which made the disgruntled sister even more critical of my arrangements for her visit. But we had fun waiting in the court listening to sad peasantry being persecuted and after some tears and recriminations we negotiated the Byzantine rituals of the New South African judicial system, much less scary than the one of yore! And escaped with a stiff fine, bummer.
The holiday almost immediately got much much better. Howard’s shack is very nice. Just the sort of place every communist has ever warned you about! Every millimeter reeked of a the pervasive perfume of Fuk-le-poor, positively reeked, with fluffy towels, massive beds, and every but every creature comfort the resourcefulness of man can conjure, we were satisfied, a great deal, for quite a few days.
Well that was the very extended holiday over with, and power outages, Zim, no rain, crime gone mad and generally every one getting a cold from the north etc rudely interrupted this bliss. The whole country went into a decline and as usual we all started to think about pastures new, even though we all knew that that was not really on the menu. It is the South African white lament, no voice, and no point and deeply concerned, touching really.
Howard was released from his personal hell with the legal world and cheered up so much that he felt constrained to lavish more loot on the farm, and I have entered into a phase of conspicuous consumption.
Quite hard work actually and takes up a whole lot of time, especially if the desire is to spend it well.