When it comes to a Happy New Year
Some like these loud noises to hear;
A good way to disinfect ‘em
Is lit crackers up the rectum –
Which will bring explosive ends to that affair.
Some of our neighbours again chose to ignore all the pleas to stop using fireworks, or at least to limit them to the quieter varieties. As soon as darkness fell, explosions to rival hydrogen bombs commenced. The animals were, of course, terrified, but we had taken the precaution of locking all of them in with us. Then I went out for a smoke, and in my absence young R obeyed Mr Mac’s demands to be let into the study.
When I returned inside, careful to keep the dogs in, she proudly told me what she had done. ‘But the window’s open!’ I squawked.
Hunt, hunt. No cat. Powerful lantern. Patrol of grounds. No cat, and the invading force of artillery was increasing their bombardment.
Returned to study – and there discovered Mr Mac squished into an impossibly small space under the desk behind a wastepaper basket. ‘Meow! D’you think I’d go out with all this going on? I’m not crazy!’
Phew! Just to be sure, I belatedly closed the window.
We watched the Variety Show on TV, and then saw the New Year in – just the five of us. It wasn’t as exciting as going to Hogmanay Balls in the Johannesburg City Hall, or being perched on the edge of the Fish River Canyon, or of seeing one in while down our path to the beach and falling asleep there, and having to drag ourselves, all the paraphernalia, and our hangovers back up again when a howling gale came through in the early hours. (Those were the stand-out ones, so far.) Still, it was fun.
Except that illegal bangs were still happening even after 01h30. Some people really should forfeit their membership of the human race.
At least there was never a total barrage. Sets of one, two, or three were the norm. I was proud of the above picture, taken on a mobile phone by aiming where I thought it might be and counting down after the ‘whoosh’ before I clicked. If I waited to see it, the camera proved too slow.
On New Year’s Day we had a braai (barbeque) and for the first time experimented with ‘open house’ which the main house becomes when the folding doors are opened. The pictures from inside show the effect. Progress has re-started, and The Great Move when Much Better Half and I occupy the cottage and Younger Daughter and the grandkids move into the main house, seems to be on the cards fairly soon.