Our coastal cousins down south are prone to running for the bleachers with umbrella and sunscreen in tow at the slightest murmur of thunder or the first pitter-patter of rain. Around these parts, it would take a storm of epic proportions before we even button up a jersey or don a jacket.
So it was on Friday morning that the missus awoke in a frenzy as is her routine, rushing around like Oprah at the buffet table after the last of the chocolate eclairs, trying to get Sabreen done and ready for school.
Since I only go to bed around 3am (my new work hours ever since I started trading the Asian markets) I was about two-thirds of the way into a blissful dream that had to do with Woolies Peppermint Tart and Lucy Liu when the missus came barging into the room informing me that a tree had fallen across the driveway.
Assuming this to be your standard garden variety tree, I mumbled that she should get the gardener to move it.
That's him in the pic above, wondering how to accomplish this objective armed with a handsaw and a cap.
The scene above is what greeted me when I came outside to inspect the progress.It seems my gardener is more adapt at using that handsaw than I give him credit for.
Unfortunately my insurance company isn't so adapt at resolving problems. They informed me that they would send a professional tree-feller out by Friday afternoon. Somebody may have come, I'm not sure. What I do know for sure is that there is still a massive tree laying across my driveway, and I haven't been able to take my cars out all weekend.
On the plus side, I have firewood to last me until sometime around the next ice-age. Maybe sooner if I start working on an ark.
You never know when God may decide to do landscaping of biblical proportions again!
They really should shoot the next season of Survivor around these parts. If you can survive the crime, nature AND Noeleen on SABC every week, you may just have a shot at a Million Dollars!
Jozi ain't for sissies. That's all I'm saying.