Tiger Tiger

I have not been posting on my blog nearly as often as I did in my post a day phase, but I have not been completely idle. I have been posting the odd article on a local news site, to try and get myself a bit more exposure. I haven’t reposted any of those on my blog, since they are filled with personalities, places, and incidents which would be instantly recognisable to fellow South Africans, but would require several thousand words of explanation for everyone else. And they have no pictures.

I wrote one this morning, though, that doesn’t need any explanation at all, so here it is;

Memory.

Shortly after I had graduated from high school, on a holiday down in the bush with my family, my father and I heard a couple of lions roaring in the middle of the night, and decided to go out looking for them.

The open Land Rover we were using at the time was a temperamental old wreck, shuddering and coughing reluctantly into action when you turned the key, and taking off with all the speed and grace of an oil-tanker. But we coaxed it into life and headed on out to the spot where we imagined the lions to be. And found them.

Land Rovers are big. So are lions.

News

I have a new blog! Isn’t that exciting?

No. No it is not. There is, I fear, nothing new there.

When I started 23thorns.com, all the advice I could find said that I should pick a topic or theme and stick to it, so I decided to write about as many different things as I could.

Despite my attempts to do so, the bulk of my posts seem to have been about wildlife. I’ve decided to start a new blog full of old stuff. I am reposting all of my old wildlife and Lowveld posts, just to see how this whole focussed approach thing works out.

Four things to avoid in the bedroom.

I seem to have skipped out on one of the more exciting rites of passage that was promised to me. My mid-life crisis. Instead of rushing out and buying myself a Harley Davidson and some leather pants, I’ve apparently decided to make an early start on becoming an old curmudgeon. This is not necessarily a bad thing, since I am prone to chafing, but has meant that I now become arbitrarily annoyed by things that I never even noticed in my youth.

Hell’s life insurance salesman.