Blogging, to take over the world.
The object is to teach an old dog new tricks. (not much hope ... )|
|Two months and three days later, things went on, there is much news or none, depending on what one would call news.
The BIG 50 came and went, a small family gathering with too much to feast on.
This was the wedding anniversary on the 14th July, the Official Opposition and the King (me) have managed to eat our way thru many a bag of salt without getting too sick of each other. It was close on a few occasions - still, here we are. The secret: quite simple, too many kids - I mean; who is going to tell the kids - what?
Then there was the Big Issue with the cattle, within a space of two days we lost five (5) fully grown cows. Three more had symptons, and fortunately recovered. What caused it is still a mystery. The Full Circus was involved, all except the Clown responsible for this drama, maybe he/she/it was there, one would not know for a while. Reminds me of Agatha's 10 Little Indians. Still searching since the 15th June, and the search is costing a pretty penny. A long story ...
Later more ... yes there is more -- Later, much later ...
12th August - no final answer yet, Pathology, Chemical, Fauna&Flora, everything; points to poisoning. Nature or man, the villian is still out there!
|In my world, I am King.
I did not ask for the position, it was my birthright.
Before my time, there was a Queen, she was my Mother.
Many a man applied for the position of King, somehow they all failed the required test of the Queen, for at the end, there was only the two of Us.
(to be continued at some other time ... )
Eventually the Prince(me) grew to be able to obtain a partner, who then became his Queen, thereby making the Prince a King, not a frog.
"To have, to give, and give, and give ..." it never stops.
Then there were three, then more, and more, the count was stopped at a hundred and four.
(That is another story for another day.)
This blog is called a load of BULL, as there is no sense to it, it is not to make sense, for all of life has little sense to it.
We are born, we eat, we grow, we breed, then depart; this is the accepted way.
There are other ways, those routes we will ignore for now.
Small achievements along the way, great we make them, it is our way -
Firstborn, as if I was the first to ever cause this event, cigars, schnapps, celebrate;
Then number two - and more (note the lack of a period, it did not stop there)
|A reader, that is what I am. Maybe one day, a writer, not today.
To do words, one must use the correct word correctly. Else everything turns into a mush of garbage, about like what is being read now.
It will make little sense without a proper introduction, layout, and logic.
P = Promise
R = Right
It is all about what is, and what should be.
We start off with the 'Right to life'; then everything goes haywire there after.
Where did the 'Promise to a better life' go?
On this we build our worlds.
|Got woken up to a call "come and see the meerkats in the springboks' enclosure."
There they were, twenty plus, on their way to new worlds.
Meerkats are the Gypsies of the wild, never settling in an area, always moving from area to area.
The driving force is food, as they are mainly insect-eaters, they deplete the area fairly quickly of any edible items.
Digging, digging, morning to a full tummy, so the cycle goes.
The springbok camp (enclosure) is on the west side, (see 11 February), not the same as where the sheep slept and caused the pipe issue.
The two camps are next to each other, the house is surrounded by 'camps', the north is the veggie patch, east is the flower garden and the garage area, south - two smaller camps alternate as dog walks; then the geese/other animals start.
The camps are added security measures, security being a basic requirement as the criminal element is escalating.
All over the world, security is in high demand.
Different reasons, or the same reason - mankind is going mad!
|I did mention; I am cleaning the 'treasure house' (also called The Den, That place, Throne Room, and a few other which may not be ASR)
''' The title of the essay comes from Virginia Woolf's conception that, "a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction" '''
This much may be true of all writers.
Very few make a decent living from writing, and yet, they still persist.
Getting away from today's subject: 'one's own' - is the subject to focus on.
How many people can use those words freely, and truly be happy with what they have?
|In the previous blog, rain was likened to a leopard, a spot here, and a spot there - now the spots have taken over the picture, and we have a wet leopard, all spots are the same; wet, even the spaces inbetween are now wet!
The villain of the story defeated, Mr. Drought put in his place; (to re-appear again in another episode of Life.)
At last, a season of planting is possible. All is well ...
Like every good story, new villains -
Army worms have turned up to snack on the corn on the menu, a new strain, imported from America - Super Worm!
The Worm to end all crops, and the good guys are doing their best to contain this scourge.
Calling Superman or somebody ... help!
Meanwhile, back at the ranch ... (<< this may not be clear to younger viewers) the sheep's pen was flooded today, and the sheep were moved closer home to the only 'dry spot' on the farm. This spot was a small camp right behind the west side of the home, one can look out the window from the kitchen, and there the sheep are, safe and dry.
Yes - there are drainpipes, and waterpipes, and other stuff, stuff that sheep can stuff-up.
I know ... it is the only dry spot, lets hope!
Dog-patrol at 1am, and as I let the dog out (*), water can be heard gushing out a pipe, yes, I know you said, anyways - the sheep were moved to the day-camp where the young ostriches play all day. The ostriches are closed up under roof at night, safe from all other mishaps.
The pipe put back in its place, and life goes on ...
(*) yes, it is I who let the dog out, I do it every day, no big thing, no need to make a song and dance about it!
|Monday, this week, the first eight chicks were collected from the nest. The reason for removing the chicks are multifold; feral dogs, jackal, mongooses, even people, will harvest the brood if they could.
Mommy was not happy at all, still, there was no asking her, discussing the pros and cons, explain to her the situation - Mother knows best!
She told us very clearly what she would do to us, should she be able get hold of us.
Fortunately, Daddy was not close-by, he is a real problem, he is not as easy to keep at bay with a stick as is Mommy.
Wednesday gave us another two chicks, still five eggs to go.
The rain is like a leopard, a spot here, a spot there, not something to get involved with - as in many places, people simply got too much which resulted in flooding and all the problems.
|Got a visit from 3 young dwarf mongoose today.
What makes it so unusual, they are way out of their distribution area.
They stayed for a long while, irritating the ground squirrels no end.
The larger squirrels would kick sand onto the mongoose, the mongoose would ignore this and carry on with whatever they were doing.
A photo session was out of the question, they moved around all the time, never allowed a good shot.
OK, so we speak English, which says the plural of -goose can be -gooses or -geese, why can I not say -gice; as one mouse + another mouse = mice.
Oh, nevermind, we speak Inglis, the language where anything makes sense.
As I was trying to take a photo of the -gooses, six feral geese flew over me, and right into the sun's light, so much for taking photos.
There is no accurate record of these feral geese (tame Embden type geese which have gone 'wild')
These wild geese never come close to the domesticated geese.
A fair start to the new year. The year where all add up to 10, or is it 100 ?
2 + 0 + 1 + 7 = 10 or 100; take your pick.
Bad hair days are a common occurance, getting out of the wrong side of the bed is another malady which could strike one, and as has been coined quite recently in common use:- "Who let the dogs out?"
To this question I must plead guilty, it is I who let the dog out, not dogs tho.
Just a wee little pooch, who wants to do something or other, outside, at all odd hours of the night.
The only problem is timing.
Timing is such an important part of life; and yet - nobody teaches it as a subject, okay, not to my knowledge - it is not done.
And the pooch seems to have no idea about timing, or, her idea is somewhat different than my idea.
Some might say the pooch should stay out there; another would live with the odd puddle or worse!
Unfortunately, the pooch is vital as a first-line of security. She is an excellent watch dog. This must still be proven, so till then, I will let the dog out whenever she indicates to me - I must let the 'dog' out ...
|A new future (another ol' day of yesterday ?)
Voting done, a new World, or, back to the business of old - time will tell.
Putting money where your mouth is, is something every one has to do from time to time.
Doing Nano, keeping to the aim, or any other goal - all call for commitment - who will pay the price ?
Full Moon: Nov 14, 2016 at 3:52 pm. South Africa. Johannesburg (close enough for me)
Close enough for me, altho I only went out at a few inches above the horizon, which was closer to 7:00 pm, and dusk had settled in nicely.
Thru the eucalyptus trees, it was a sight to see.
The previous event was 26 January 1948, and I may have seen the moon, yet I cannot remember it.