Just when I think I am getting the hang of this language. And then of course I discover that it's a place of talkative pirates - Who wipe the sweat from their brows and say 'hard yakka I could sink a schooner'. And then drink a tankard of beer...
Inge has been "crook mit der floo" (the mix of German and Australian is very entertaining, and great fodder for an imagination like mine). So today she made her way across to the local African exibits to check we hadn't starved to death or frozen in her absence and to discuss the impact of the volcanic ash on flights in Europe (hey we don't have a lot of local disasters, beyond the stock prices at the saleyards). She was telling us about the hard yakka her daughter had been doing. Which turns out to be not yakitty-yak (talk) but work. And Chris introduced us to a schooner the other night at the pub - which did not sail off so much into the sunset as down his throat. White froth sail and a brown body?
shrug. "Angaaz." (which proves merely that we exhibits have our own code.)
Anyway, it's very humid and we got really hot even early this morning, cutting up some tree-trimmings which might be good for tail-end of winter fuel. Winter is creeping closer, and we're trying to do our own as the price of cut wood is quite a bit higher than South Africa - labour costs. $80 a ute-load, as compared to Mfanjane's $18 a ute load. Besides, being fuel self-sufficient is one of our long term goals (But if you think that means I am going to cut up trees with a bow-saw... I am not that idealistic.)