[warning - this has nothing to do with telecoms!]
Some weekends life seems to ratchet up the pace... others you actually get a chance to breathe once or twice!
Friday:
Neither Barbara or I feel like cooking - we decide to order in. Now where we live (on a 
smallholding) that means Scooters pizzas. No one else is daft enough to try to deliver to our area. 18h28 I place the order. "39 minutes or your pizzas are free" is their motto. By 19h00 Barbara suggests I make sure they know where they are going this time as their database does not seem to want to accept our street name properly (why you might ask? yeah-well, we're like that). They finally answered, but put me on hold... and never picked up again. Around 19h45 I managed to find out from the manager that they had not left yet, and were "having one of those nights".... you don't say? 20h05 we fall upon cold pizza's and again get them for free. I not sure how long these guys will be delivering to our area, or continue to be in business! Cold, edible, slow...
Saturday
I woke to hear the pressure pump for house water supply running. And running. Something is not right, but what? A quick check shows that the pump flushing the final digester for the sewage is also running ineffectively. A bit of priming and that one settles down, but I'm supposed to have Dylan at a rugby match at 07h45 in Stellenbosch, so the pressure pump will have to wait.
We arrive to find the place deserted. Seems the time to be there was 15 after 8, not 15 before 8! <sigh> Fortified with coffee, we return to find the troops gathering. Today is Rhenish u13 against Bishops. Bishops arrive and start working through some warm-up exercises that at least show some organisation. Ours are horsing around aimlessly. The Bishops lads are noticeably larger and a few parents mutter darkly about an impending slaughter of our lot. Now bear in mind I have not watched Dylan play rugby since last season when he was taken out by a few high tackles that had the medics bolting down the sidelines.
The coaches decide to play 4 quarters of 15 minutes each instead of 2 halves to give the 
reserves more game time. The parents look decidedly nervous. Well, the Zulu have a saying about not judging a bull by it's horns. The Bishops lads, although large, don't seem to have much fire in their bellies and can't tackle. Either that the Rhenish u13B team have finally worked out how to play as a team. They strung together some decent moves, ran some good lines, and managed to get a few quick wings away. The final scoreboard tells the tale (that's a 6 before the 5 on the left hand side). Sometimes you have to get your victories vicariously. ;)
Back to the pump. Did not take long to find that the non-return valve was not non-returning and the pump was trying vainly to pressurize the 2,000l tank out back. 3 hours later I'd replaced the part, relocated pump and pressure tank, and climbed into the ceiling to scrub the inlet filter to the geyser. Friends stayed for supper. Knackered by 10pm.
Sunday
Doug Banks had invited me to join himself and few other "too much work and not enough play" types like ourselves on a hike up Table Mountain. I'd agreed. Waking I regretted having said yes, but by 10am when I arrived at Kirstenbosch, the day was blossoming and I was looking forward to some fresh air.
Up Skeleton Gorge (somebody's been (ab)using my knees without my knowledge I swear!), across to McClear's Beacon for lunch, on along the front edge of the mountain with the haze and smog clearing as the day wore on, to join the cable car hordes at the top of Platteklip Gorge. Somehow my suggestion of descending via Fountain Ledges and India Venster was mooted. We passed some excited types who had just completed the commercial abseil from the cable station, and a pair of rock-jocks taking on a Trad route.
The hairier bits of the descent seemed to have some of the party wondering seriously about my sanity, but 16h50 had us safe down at the Lower Cable station with only minor cuts and bruises and legs that resembled jelly.
That's me... needing a rest!
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