A Catastrophe of minor importance

Every weekend while the Super 15 rugby competition was on I take stock of the entries.   A pattern has been established and I know which of the competitors are early to respond and who are inclined to procrastinate and wait until the last minute.   Among the early members to respond I can count JP, Barry, Stephen and Damien.  At the other end of the scale I have to contend with Meghan, Steven and Sonja.  The rest of the group is difficult to forecast because they vary submitting their predictions from early to late or mostly halfway through the week.  I do whatever I can to keep the members on their toe by submitting my own predictions as soon as the fixtures for the next week have been sent out.  During the week I may give little snippets of information of the upcoming matches.  On top of that I make up the results of the Super 15 competition and distribute this as soon as all the scheduled matches have been played.  This is all done to maintain interest and getting all members keyed up to improve their positions on the log.  This should, I hoped, make it unnecessary for me to “run” after them to collect outstanding scores.

An interesting piece of information that came to the fore in this rugby competition is that you do not have to be a rugby genius to do well in this competition.     My wife is the living proof of that.   She won the sub-competition of the highest score of the last 18 scores of all the matches.  I thought I had a chance to slip in.  But no hope, the middle positions were taken by the “unskilled” members and they even improved their positions.   I compared our results with that of Australian Footie  which runs a similar completion and based on averages we performed as well or even better.

Operation Catch Up

Second night that Enid is back and we realised that our rhythm of watching TV in the evenings is badly disturbed, partly as result of my grand idea of saving the episodes that she missed while in Australia.  That meant that she had to catch up on the recorded episodes before joining me on the current ones.  Problem is that as result of our system of high definition TV I have to watch Villa Rosa and Binnelanders on the big TV in the lounge.  And so it was agreed that I would watch my soapies in the morning after until she has caught up.  Monday afternoon  we had a visit from Stuart and Sonja and when they left we finished watching Drop a Million Dollars after which I went to sort out the dishes for the dishwasher, watch 7de Laan and catch up on some household administration.  I kept R2 D2 going and had the bonus of extra time earned towards my minimum of 15 hours.  Enid started on her job to catch up on back episodes but when I looked in on her she was fast asleep (jet-lag?) and I woke her up, but she insisted she was not sleeping.  Why argue.  So, I went to bed at 10 o ‘clock and slept until the early hours of the morning and realised I was back to being lonesome in our bed.  I slept some more and got up at 5, took my handful of pills, made the bed, sorted out R2’s water and hooked him up ready for action.  Then, I found that Enid was not sleeping in front of the TV but spent the whole night watching the back episodes.  She did well because at eight o’clock I could watch the latest episodes with her.  Half of the mission was therefore accomplished and maybe sleeping alone was limited to the one night.

Back to the salt mines

Sleeping next to a human hot water bottle in the middle mof winter is preferred over an electric blanket.  Although I have nearly forgotten about this hot water bottle’s ice cold feet looking for warmth by rubbing against my warm leg.  Brrr..., that part was not so nice.  Since we last shared a bed I had to energise myself with oxygen and the contraption had to remain inserted while sleeping.  Because I have to do 15 – 18 hours a day on the oxygen generator I retire to bed at 10 o’clock which gives me 7 hours if I get up at 5 o’clock.  So today was the first morning since the 25^th of May that the partnership was intact again.  Rude awakening – the suitcase that came with a lot of washing and because this chore is mine to take care of I had to get busy as soon as I filled up R2 D2 and moved him with all his pipes to his corner in the small lounge.  All went well until the wife discovered that the bathroom scale is not responding and worked out that somebody removed the batteries.  Of course you know who got the blame me, Stuart and Sonja.  On closer inspection I found that  the battery was not of the normal A4 penlight sort but was a coin shaped the size of a R1.  I fetched a replacement at the dry cleaners, replaced it and everything was OK again.

Am still struggling to get into the routine of household chores and absorbing oxygen in two hour stretches, but I am getting there.  Decided today that I must  invest in a portable oxygen unit, to use when I have to go out.  According to the catalogue this may set us back about R4000 but may be worthwhile.  I will follow this up with Ecomed to bring a unit with when they come to service R2 D2 in six week’s time.   

The Homecoming

It felt like it would never happen but finally the day is here when Enid returns from the far end of the world.  She left on the 25^th of May which makes it close on two months that I had to live without her.  There was not a day that went past that I did not think of her.  I even made her side of the bed up in the mornings!

She is due to arrive at 16h30 this afternoon and Mabel and Dean is ready to fetch her at the airport.  I did not prepare the proverbial fatted calf, but I did make a pot of soup.  It has the advantage that it can be heated up with very little fuss and leftovers can be frozen.  It is still winter and soup is always a winner if you get hungry.  I also thought it would be nice to have her car washed and filled up with petrol.  This nearly backfired because the regular carwash was out of action (their machine was broken) but fortunately I remembered that Michael once told me of a place where he took his car to be washed.  This carwash is very efficient and I was helped quickly.  To top it off they are cheaper and I only paid R30 for a wash and dry which cost R45 at the place I usually take the car to.  I will henceforth support the cheaper one, even a full job – wash, dry and vacuum cost R50 compared to R60.

The dramatic weekend

I had to find something worthwhile to do while I am linked to the oxygen generator (for lack of a better description).  My investment in a portable computer can now be put to good use.  After considering all the options which my few talents may be able to cope with I decided that I will give Blogger a go.  I like writing and this concept, as far as I know, is very much on a personal level and not to be confused with constructing fictional stories or even a book.  With Meghan's enthusiastic assistance I got started and have already partly finished my profile.

The heading of the first entry is the Dramatic Weekend which refers to the Super 15 rugby competition which had an absolute dream of a conclusion of  the qualifying rounds.  I run a competition for the family in which the 14 members predict what they think the results would be.  All the entries are directed to me via e-mail and I use a formula which Michael worked out a number of years ago by means of which points are calculated for picking the winner end guessing the score difference.  When Saturday 14 July dawned I prepared myself for a proverbial wall to wall rugby for the day.   Even my parrot, Verdi, who is spoiled on such days, was extra chirpy.  The first match was played in Canberra and started a little after seven in the morning (SA time).  The result was  probably the worst that the Brumbies expected and this virtually set the scene for the rest of the day in which a further 5 matches had to be played.  When the last match, Bulls versus the Lions, started the final qualifiers were still in the balance.   Enid was still in Australia and the whole day belonged to me and Verdi - I did not even open a door.  I just saw to it that the two of us had enough to eat and drink.  By the end of the day I was emotionally drained and I left all the admin work for the next day.   Although it was nice not to be disturbed I did miss the presence of somebody to share the ups and downs with.  Unfortunately Verdi's vocabulary is very limted!

The Dagwood days

The schools started up on Monday 16 June and leisurely afternoons with freedom to do as I please.  Why should a pensioner, and an elderly one to top it, be influenced by school terms.  Elementary my dear Watson, because there is a granddaughter that has to be fetched from school, see that she gets some lunch and make sure that she does her homework,  Cheryl is in grade 9 and does not need prompting to do the latter, so this blog is just concerned  with fetching and eating.  Sheryl attends The Way School which is scarcely two kilometres away.  So, the fetching is not much more than a five minute drive, depending  on the traffic.  We have a good understanding and therefore things that are discussed are not earth shattering, mostly to do with school, family or music.  One question that Cheryl always manages to get in is to ask what we are having for lunch.

Normally my wife (granny) is in charge of lunch and I can honestly tell her that I do not know what to expect.  For this week, however Granny is still visiting the family down under and I have to know the answer.  This is where the Dagwoods came in.  While perusing the confectionaries available at Spar Supermarket I discovered ready to bake Italian rolls.  A packet of six costs R13 and seemed good value.  In my mind I made up these rolls, fresh from the oven, loaded with all sorts of fillings.  This is what was popularly referred to as a Dagwood, a sandwich stacked with as wide a variety of fillings as can be managed.  To top off the lunch I bought some custard slices.  So, I was prepared when asked what we are having for lunch – Dagwoods of course.  I baked the rolls and explained to Sheryl what she can do to make up her own sandwich.  Grated cheese, sliced tomatoes and ham were the basic ingredients and flavoured a little bit of sweet chilli sauce it was a meal fit for a king.  The custard slices was also a winner.  The rolls were enough for a second day and we repeated the Dagwood lunch, much to the delight of Cheryl. Now I have three more days to think up lunch for Sheryl and me.  Not so difficult but cannot be avoided.