Friday, July 3, 2009

Time for brunch?

What a great start to Saturday morning. Check clock - 10.04am. Check wife - snoring at acceptable level. Check weather - bright, clear and pleasantly cool, maybe walk over to Indro for brunch. Why bother blogging this? To give hope to any who may have spent the last 4 hours on child-wrangling, soccer/ballet/netball transport etc, etc. Eventually they either leave or, in the case of our dear son, turn into semi-mythical creatures. Some days we only know he's here because there are strange noises in the night and the tell-tale spoor of dirty socks under the coffee table. And the fridge raids.

Anyway, there is light ahead for all you poor parents. Sleeping in, staying up late, drinking too much, talking rubbish till 3am. It's all there waiting for you. Hang in.

Bearded Nutjobs indeed

Memo to Self: Must remember to issue a fatwah against that NowhereBob chap. Cheeky young infidel implied that I may have been a bearded nutter. Must be some bits he can do without?

My Latest Theory (by Anne Elk)

This theory came (in a flash of inspiration naturally) while sitting out the back burning sticks in the brazier and drinking red. Several reds. See, I like fires. Not big nasty ones but the sort you can sit and stare into for hours. You can poke them, stir them, throw stuff in, watch the sparks and coals, even cook things. And having some bits feel warm while the rest are cold somehow gives you more of a sense of 'conquering the elements' than flicking a switch can. I said it was like nature's screensaver but The Woman gave me one of those 'looks'.

Thing is, most animals are scared of fire and run like the dickens. Except rhinoceroses which of course stamp them out with their large flat feet. So I started thinking about why most humans enjoy the whole campfire thing while Naked Saharan Mole-Rats* (for example) don't. The answer is of course evolution (unless you're my son's ex's mother who can't even say the word without choking and waits daily for the rapture. By all indications that's the only rapture the cold-hearted brain-dead, grasping ... but I digress). I reckon that some Homo Hairybackus's just happened to be a bit odd about fire. Instead of running, they hung around and played with it like us. Maybe some even carried it around on the end of a stick, like an Olympic torch relay but with more grunting and scratching than one tends to see today. Some may have pushed different things in it to see what would happen, as you do. If one of those things was meat - well, I think you see where this is going. Yes, Gordon Ramsay. Before you know it, Tarquin's warm winter fire has attracted a swarm of potential mates and the fire-loving genes are on their way down to us. (I refuse to call early hominids Og or Thag as I believe this to be a form of racial stereotyping. Henceforth let us call them Tarquin or Nigel.)

* I mention Naked Saharan Mole-Rats because they are, IMHO, the world's ugliest and most disgusting mammal. More people should know this so that one day we Mole-Rat Haters can rise up and exterminate them all. If you think this is unjustified, google them and see for yourself. Especially the part where they eat their own faeces or feed the green ones to their baby rats or something. I've had pet rats and nursed injured pythons so I'm not squeamish but these things are just wrong.