life – Page 4 – The Waffle Group

Holiday at The Cavern (and a brief stop-over in Clarens)

We spent a week at The Cavern berg resort, and pulled a sneaky stopover in Clarens on the way back to my parents in Welkom (travelling via the beautiful Golden Gate Highlands National Park).

It was a well-deserved rest, and we had a most glorious break. The Cavern is even better when you have children. We had to pay 60% of full adult fee for Jethro, which seems a little cheeky since he was only 6 months old, but they provide well-trained and certified caretakers/nannies to look after the children during meal times. In fact, children under 7 years old are not allowed in the main dining room.
It just isn’t understood how brilliant that is until one has children of their own. When we got to Clarens and stayed over a night a self-catering guest house there, where no-one looks after your children during meals, I understood that I’d been taking it all for granted. I won’t be doing that again in a hurry. The 60% rate that The Cavern charged was well worth it.

Christmas Photos

Christmas with the Robinsons pics.

Christmassy 2008

Holiday in the Drakensberg photos to follow

Dog

The new fluff -- apparently a Yorkie cross who-knows-what

We have another. Angie’s colleague is getting divorced and Harry needs a home. Yes, Harry. We didn’t name him, so I take no responsibility.

He is a strange beast — somewhat larger than the Yorkshire Terrior ancestry he supposedly holds.

He also likes to bark at things. Nothings.

We’ll sort him out. At least he fears the Vuvuzela (but not the water adversive — actually enjoys swimming and barks incessently to be admitted to the pool) which seems to quiet him when waved in his general direction.

The Long-Awaited Photos of Jethro

I’ve got over my previous distress regarding my soggy house. It’s still going to be expensive to fix, but I’m probably in denial about it all so I feel just fine.

Thus calmed, I felt inspired to get some of those photos of my spawn out there for you to see.

Go fetch!

Jethro Montage – October and November 2008

I have considered whether to post these pics up on Paternity Ward, but things appear to be at a standstill that side. At least we have a trickle of syrup flowing over here at Waffle Group, although it is cold, viscous syrup.

Halloween Whippersnappers. No sign of them

Here in South Africa, Trick-or-Treat and Halloween festivities are not broadly practised. I’m not certain why.

Perhaps we had Apartheid instead of Halloween, where white people dressed up as white people and trampled on the human rights of black people dressed up as black people. It was always Trick in those days, and never Treat. Now that we no longer have Apartheid, nobody knows how to treat, and since everyone is used to tricks, that’s all they expect to get handed out when Trick-or-Treating.

And yet, last year some small children appeared at my door, dressed amusingly and raising the question, “Trick or treat?”

They seemed very disappointed with my offer of homemade rusks (all I had in the house at the time), declined them, and skulked off.

I felt so bad about it that this year I went on a special mission to buy treats. I bought Smarties, liquorice, chocolates and toffees. Unfortunately, this year it was my turn to be disappointed. No little whippersnappers arrived at my door. Not even white kids dressed as white kids, or black kids dressed as black kids.

Angie and I now have to eat the treats. How horrible for us.

Chris Munton Photography Redux

Update: Chris and I have metaphorically kissed and made up, so I’ve removed the original content of this post as a gesture of goodwill.

I have a dog who eats socks

My dog’s name is Kelty. He is known to eat socks. Literally eat socks. Not just chew holes in them, but actually devour the fabric.
He also eats other underwear, baby clothes, and anything that smells and tastes dirty or like baby formula.

This is Kelty:

We have several nicknames for Kelty. One of them is “Fats,” because he just is. Another is “Welty” or “Welts.”

I complain bitterly about the things he destroys, but I complain the most about my lost socks. I have no matching socks left, and wearing mismatched socks makes me a little sad — though I have come to accept my fate. To ease the pain a little Angie bought new socks for me, to replace those that Welts had devastated with his insatiable appetite.

Read the label. I’m not sure these socks are going to last too long, or at least the lycra bits won’t.