well, it is not every day one gets to hear of a story of someone taking on Somalian pirates and winning. indeed, technically, and in terms of the law governing what can and what cannot be passed of as "non-fiction", this is not such a day nor such a tale. but also it is, really.
yesterday, by my word, featured some barmy windy weather. nearly took the door off the wheels, it did, and kicked up a whole lot of dust and stuff into my eyes and that. a bitter sense of frostbite seemed to come around my fingers too; all of that combined made writing, and indeed holding some paper, quite a challenge.
why did i not just stay inside, then, instead of staying out in it and subsequently moaning and whining here? well, if i had done that, i would not have seen this.
what are we, ladies and gentlemen, looking at here. what do we see? ostensibly, nay pedantically, we merely see a trick on a road as it makes its way across the most beautiful part of the world; a beauty not alas accentuated or reflected by the weather that day.
in a very real sense, though, what we see here is conquest. a conquest like that Greek or Roman fella with the flying horse. a conquest like them monkeys in that film with that guy in it. the conquest, of course, is over trial by wave, trial by shark and trial by Somali pirate. most impressive.
yes, the basics here is that our stuffs has landeds, hasn't it just. and, alas, gone straight into storage.
two fantastic blokes came along with it all in a truck and we put it all into storage for now. as much as i miss several of my shiny things - in particular my proper computer as i struggle with this child's toy - we do not have the infrastructure nor space to take all that much out right now.
in truth i did, as the concerned sort of look thing i have on the go here may reveal, have some concerns that it would not all fit into the storage we had arranged with a top bloke from an outstanding family. we had, i fear, packed and brought far too much with us; some feat considering we gave roughly half of our estate away. hey ho, done now.
just how close was i, or were we, to losing some if not all of our things that are things to Somali pirates? well, some try to say "not at all close", considering the geography of the world where Somalian pirates dwell and where ships conventionally go. but those some are just not thinking properly.
pirates, ladies and gents, use the seas and oceans as their canvas to craft a most elegant painting of enthusiastic and frequently violent theft. just as the sea refuses no river, so no pirate would surely refuse mucking about in any sort of sea or water in order to obtain all they desire. so stuff at sea, anywhere at sea, is fair game for them, i argue. and well done to the sailor chap in charge of our boat for evading them, or simply just shooting or harpooning any that tried it on.
to illustrate, here is a map of the world for you. note how easy it would have been for Somali pirates to come and have a go at the ship our stuff was on. it is not like at that stage they were looking for planes or anything.
if the Somali pirates had learned of my class stuff being on a ship so close to them, it would have been but the work of a moment for them to bomb it down whatever sea or ocean it is they are on there (Indian, maybe) and get to it. and learn of it they nearly did. some total b@stards who i do not want to name, except for Martin or "Sharpie" as he is known in some circles, made it their mission in life to try and befriend Somalian pirates and tell them all about it. fair do's i suppose, it's like that thing we all do, you know, when you have a mate flying somewhere so you for a laugh phone the airport authorities and advise them of your friend's details and explain that they probably have a formidable amount of narcotics stuck up their backside.
you never really stop contemplating, considering or thinking of entirely random things that happen as you live through this life, i think. i recall a story we were told in school. it was about some lonely looking fella that went into a bakery each day and bought old bread from the day before. eventually the lady working in the shop took pity on him and sneakily gave him fresh bread, with butter spread inside it, instead. the chap came back in furious, explaining that he used the old bread as an eraser (no idea if that works) for some architectural plans he was doing and the buttered bread had destroyed it. what is, i wonder, the lesson we were being given? that if you think someone needs help assume in fact that they don't and carry on? that women should not be allowed to make decisions? that bread somehow works on paper to remove pencil marks, so long as it is butter free and a day old? no, i have no idea why that one just "popped in there" earlier today, but it did so i thought best to throw it out here so any part-time analysts and that can work away on it. fill your boots.
back on land, and my word the space was soon being taken up with lots of stuffs.
as point of fact, i recall one letter in Viz being from someone in Australia (G'day, please put the Starstruck soundtrack out on CD) reckoning that his newsagent reckoned the shipment of a then most recent edition of the magazine had been delayed due to pirates. so they do indeed, it seems, get around a bit.
would it have been all that bad if Somali pirates had taken a shine to the ship our stuff was on? mostly yest but partially no. them two great blokes would have been bringing me a large-ish, insurance cheque rather than loads of boxes, really. and i would in some way have contributed to the Somali, indeed the African, economy from afar; something that might be appreciated as i gather a dam is about to absolutely knack, displacing and/or drowning millions of people. if stealing and selling my class boots, for example, would avert that, well then that is the sort of thing that puts any woes i have into some sort of perspective, if not a practical path to follow to fix them.
here you go, here's one of them selfie things of me looking somewhat woe concerned about all the space in all of the storage area being filled up.
did it all fit in? yeah, sure. if it did not i would not be here writing this. i would have been sent off to "fix" somehow, to do something or anything to store or dispose of the stuff. sorry if you were looking forward to some sort of dramatic twist here. none, really. except i think i knacked the door on the wheels a bit in the wind, but i am sure i mentioned or at least thought about that earlier on.
quite like that selfie above, really. is "poignant" the right word?
this one is OK, i guess, i think it is me looking at the list with nerves and relief as i see it is all but done.
and so all the stuffs have arrived safe and sound to be locked up safe and sound for the foreseeable future. so is life, "fml" and all that.. a great relief it is too, really, even if i am left momentarily despondent and down that it's all here and yet i cannot really do anything with it or use much of it.
if for some reason you are in a similar position to that which i was and believe i can give advice, it would be this. cash in on or simply give away pretty much everything before you haul yourself and your family across the world.
except, of course, you can't. sometimes there are some things you just cannot give up of your own free will, and no one should ever ask you to.
like, for instance, two things that James holds very, very dear and has missed a great deal. almost as much as William has missed all his Batman and Power Ranger things.
it took some doing, that did, finding those two in the box, getting them out and then sort of re-sealing and re-taping the box. but absolutely worth it, and by it i mean it all.
oh goodness me, yes of course there will be whining and moaning posts about not getting stuff set up, to one day be followed by a right royal moaning and whining post about actually getting it all out and set up. that goes without saying so you don't need this warning really.
time for bed, i think.......
be excellent to each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!