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a misty, moisty morning, when cloudy was the weather
Monday, 27 February 2006 10:59 amI like Cape Town this morning, lots of low, slightly melancholy clouds and light rain, with a particularly pleasing fat, misty rainbow over Newlands and the university when I went shopping earlier. I am happy to report that I didn't actually meet an old man clothed all in leather, which is just as well. Openly flaunted fetish gear is always disconcerting in the aged. Or in anyone else, actually.
A good weekend, on the whole: jo's 30th birthday party on Saturday night, hosted by us as their flat is somewhat tiny; good party, and another outlet for my apparently recurring need to scurry around feeding the masses. Sunday night ended up as another of those impromptu braai evenings with jo&stv, by which I suspect my Evil Landlord is trying to annoy the Mad Old Bat neighbor sufficiently to bring her grey hairs in sorrow to the grave. I suppose we can hope. She deserved it, anyway, having "accidentally" watered a couple of our guests on Saturday night, presumably as her usual kind of passive-aggressive statement of outrage that we should dare to have a party of any sort. The braai itself was good, as usual, although being enlivened somewhat drastically by the sudden explosion (literally: loud bang and a rain of sparks) of the electric grill on which I was constructing garlic potatoes. Since it was about a foot from my head at the time (I was bending down to rootle in the cupboard under it), I was, to say the least, startled. Any subsequent heavy drinking was entirely on account of my nerves.
Dammit! I remember the second part of that misty-moisty nursery rhyme as ending with sadistic suddenness, with the phrase "I tripped up his heels and he fell on his nose", but searching Google insists that it ends with a lot of grinning and compliments and what have you. Although dodgy in its own right, mind you: "He began to compliment and I began to grin." Dirty old man. Further googling suggests that in fact I'm confusing two nursery rhymes: the mad martial arts assault one is about sadistic discrimination on grounds of physical deformity, not age and dodgy fetish gear. "As I was going to sell my eggs / I met a man with bandy legs, / Bandy legs and crooked toes; / I tripped up his heels, and he fell on his nose." It's the healthy pointless violence that tells you it's for the kiddies. Modern children's TV not so different, after all.
A good weekend, on the whole: jo's 30th birthday party on Saturday night, hosted by us as their flat is somewhat tiny; good party, and another outlet for my apparently recurring need to scurry around feeding the masses. Sunday night ended up as another of those impromptu braai evenings with jo&stv, by which I suspect my Evil Landlord is trying to annoy the Mad Old Bat neighbor sufficiently to bring her grey hairs in sorrow to the grave. I suppose we can hope. She deserved it, anyway, having "accidentally" watered a couple of our guests on Saturday night, presumably as her usual kind of passive-aggressive statement of outrage that we should dare to have a party of any sort. The braai itself was good, as usual, although being enlivened somewhat drastically by the sudden explosion (literally: loud bang and a rain of sparks) of the electric grill on which I was constructing garlic potatoes. Since it was about a foot from my head at the time (I was bending down to rootle in the cupboard under it), I was, to say the least, startled. Any subsequent heavy drinking was entirely on account of my nerves.
Dammit! I remember the second part of that misty-moisty nursery rhyme as ending with sadistic suddenness, with the phrase "I tripped up his heels and he fell on his nose", but searching Google insists that it ends with a lot of grinning and compliments and what have you. Although dodgy in its own right, mind you: "He began to compliment and I began to grin." Dirty old man. Further googling suggests that in fact I'm confusing two nursery rhymes: the mad martial arts assault one is about sadistic discrimination on grounds of physical deformity, not age and dodgy fetish gear. "As I was going to sell my eggs / I met a man with bandy legs, / Bandy legs and crooked toes; / I tripped up his heels, and he fell on his nose." It's the healthy pointless violence that tells you it's for the kiddies. Modern children's TV not so different, after all.
