Bloggable Weekend!
Well, sort of! Does gardening count as bloggable? Not really… I didn’t think so. But what the hell, the gardening only took place on Saturday.
Gardening (read “Killing Plants”)
To say that Flyboy let my feeble attempts at establishing orderly flower beds and a lawn go to seed (very punny) in my absence is a gross understatement. The grass was so long that that Houndus Maximus, Houndus Minimus and Houndus Super-Minimus (the latest addition to the crack babies) were disappearing in it when they went for a romp. So, the Saturday afternoon quiet of the farm was punctuated with weed, weed, curse, weed, curse Flyboy, weed, avoid operational edge trimmer wielded by Flyboy and weed some more. And then, to replace big gaping holes in newly weeded beds, it was off to the nursery.
Um, not the kind of nursery where you get in your car, fork out enough money to buy a family sized car and then try and figure out how the ridiculously large plant is going to fit into your car. Nope, not that kind of nursery at all. This trip to the nursery involves arming yourself to the teeth with a fork and spade and going to select your plant down near the spruit (stream I think). Oh, and giving the “boomslange” (sorry, no English translation for that but it is a snake) right of way. In this case it was Leonotis, wild dagga to the rest of you. Shame, it will probably die like the rest of them – some people garden for a hobby, I kill plants in the name of establishing something that looks like a garden.
So, if you ever take a drive through the Eastern Cape and see a housie with lots of dead sticky type things in the garden, pop in for a cup of coffee!
Flying (read “Flying”)
Sundays are traditionally spent at some or other airfield and this last one was no exception. However things were different this time, I got to fly too.
The concept behind this flight was to prove that a Cessna cannot outfly a touring motor glider. And there were three planes in convoy, a Lambada (www.wingtrack.com for those of you who might have aviation tendencies), a Dimona and of course, the competing Cessna. We left from Uitenhage aerodrome, flew down to Paradise Beach and back. And I got to take some really stunning photies with the pilot’s digital camera – talk about guilt free photography. You just click away and don’t panic about the astronomical developing and printing costs. Those photies will be cut to CD at the end of this week and hopefully I will be able to get them onto Flickr.
Conversations on the Radio:
Pilot in PE: [Call sign] requesting permission to depart from PE international. Will be flying straight down the coast towards St Francis Bay, any conflicting traffic, please report.
So what is strange about that? Well, usually pilots don’t enquire so far in advance as to conflicting traffic. Technically speaking, WE were the conflicting traffic.
Pilot in Cessna: [Call sign] in the Jefferys Bay area, flying 400ft off the deck just above the waves. *Nervously* Please don’t come in under me.
Pilot in PE: [Call sign] thank you Cessna, will come in below you at 100ft. *laughing*
So, what is the point of this? Well, approximately two minutes later an L-39 jet screamed past us, did a low fly past, a couple of steep and rolling turns, called “Yee-Ha!” on the radio and vanished again over the horizon.
I think the residents in the sleepy hollow coastal towns were awake after that!
Gardening (read “Killing Plants”)
To say that Flyboy let my feeble attempts at establishing orderly flower beds and a lawn go to seed (very punny) in my absence is a gross understatement. The grass was so long that that Houndus Maximus, Houndus Minimus and Houndus Super-Minimus (the latest addition to the crack babies) were disappearing in it when they went for a romp. So, the Saturday afternoon quiet of the farm was punctuated with weed, weed, curse, weed, curse Flyboy, weed, avoid operational edge trimmer wielded by Flyboy and weed some more. And then, to replace big gaping holes in newly weeded beds, it was off to the nursery.
Um, not the kind of nursery where you get in your car, fork out enough money to buy a family sized car and then try and figure out how the ridiculously large plant is going to fit into your car. Nope, not that kind of nursery at all. This trip to the nursery involves arming yourself to the teeth with a fork and spade and going to select your plant down near the spruit (stream I think). Oh, and giving the “boomslange” (sorry, no English translation for that but it is a snake) right of way. In this case it was Leonotis, wild dagga to the rest of you. Shame, it will probably die like the rest of them – some people garden for a hobby, I kill plants in the name of establishing something that looks like a garden.
So, if you ever take a drive through the Eastern Cape and see a housie with lots of dead sticky type things in the garden, pop in for a cup of coffee!
Flying (read “Flying”)
Sundays are traditionally spent at some or other airfield and this last one was no exception. However things were different this time, I got to fly too.
The concept behind this flight was to prove that a Cessna cannot outfly a touring motor glider. And there were three planes in convoy, a Lambada (www.wingtrack.com for those of you who might have aviation tendencies), a Dimona and of course, the competing Cessna. We left from Uitenhage aerodrome, flew down to Paradise Beach and back. And I got to take some really stunning photies with the pilot’s digital camera – talk about guilt free photography. You just click away and don’t panic about the astronomical developing and printing costs. Those photies will be cut to CD at the end of this week and hopefully I will be able to get them onto Flickr.
Conversations on the Radio:
Pilot in PE: [Call sign] requesting permission to depart from PE international. Will be flying straight down the coast towards St Francis Bay, any conflicting traffic, please report.
So what is strange about that? Well, usually pilots don’t enquire so far in advance as to conflicting traffic. Technically speaking, WE were the conflicting traffic.
Pilot in Cessna: [Call sign] in the Jefferys Bay area, flying 400ft off the deck just above the waves. *Nervously* Please don’t come in under me.
Pilot in PE: [Call sign] thank you Cessna, will come in below you at 100ft. *laughing*
So, what is the point of this? Well, approximately two minutes later an L-39 jet screamed past us, did a low fly past, a couple of steep and rolling turns, called “Yee-Ha!” on the radio and vanished again over the horizon.
I think the residents in the sleepy hollow coastal towns were awake after that!
posted by Katt at 12:18 pm
5 Comments:
I am a lovely shade of green, again. Would love to be able to fly around like that..
ugh
You take it easy. Rumour has it that PE is home to a deranged Scotsman with a rail gun and a dearth of targets to try it on.
oh wow! i can't wait to see the photies! i got to fly a couple of short trips in a microlight last year december and i've wanted to go back up again since then... its just a tad expensive dontchano!
Aah you made me come over all homesick..PE...St Francis Bay...Uitenhage.....did you know I grew up in PE? Shame on you....now I want to go home.
I also want to fly...not fair...
*leaves and pouts*
TGL: Well, if you get your butt down here I could arrange some aerial photo opportunities for you!
TwoFlower: Thanks for the warning! The wild dagga has been looking quite tempting, if only to alleviate the boredom. It could also make for interesting blogging.
Kyk: Again, thanks for the warning! We actually give PE a miss because of controlled airspace and all - rumour has it there is an international airport there.
Angel: This is going to make you sick. I fly for free! Here's the tip: Hang around airfields. Usually when you are the only woman the guys will offer you flights, even if only to be able to strap you in and "accidently" brush against you.
Geena: If that made you homesick, don't check the photos when they are posted. Sorry, girl! Like Dorothy said: "There is no place like home."
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