The TV is on in the other room. I have moved. I am getting used to it in moderation but there is very definitely a limit and my boredom threshold is low. Ya gotta do stuff. I’ve noticed that my language has been evolving. I can write good grammar perfectly well, ish but nowadays I tend to write as I talk. I’m not sure there is anything wrong with that. Some media will demand appropriate application of the language but I think as long as you are getting your message across, how you do it is up to you.
If everyone understands what you are saying then surely that is fine. Of course if I am writing in English and you can only understand Swahili then that is a different issue. Chances are you are not reading this if you only understand Swahili.
I’ve just googled “Swahili” and the first page comes up with “useful Swahili words”. No mention of a website in Swahili. Then I changed the search term to “Swahili language websites”. The only one on the front page was Voice of America http://www.voaswahili.com/ which presumably is the good ole US of A’s contribution to world knowledge. The other sites are all offshoots of the BBC and miscellaneous educational institutes.
There seems to me to be a fair chance that if Swahili is indeed your language you are not using the wild wild web at all. You are probably more concerned with real life wild creatures such ones to be found in the African bush. For example an enraged hippopotamus is a very dangerous animal and is to be avoided at all costs. Other dangerous animals are available but I particularly like the concept of enraged hippopotami. Note the slick change from singular to plural. Both are good words and deserved to be used.
A hippo is often portrayed as a fun creature, in children’s cartoons for example. However this really annoys wild hippos who consider themselves to be hard as nails. You wouldn’t want a hippo to roll over and sit on top of you I’m telling you. Might be interesting to try sticking a saddle on top of one and seeing if there were any takers for a rodeo ride. Ride em hippopotamus boy. Unlikely. Interesting how the imagination wanders though innit?
When you think of hippos you usually, in your mind’s eye, also have the vision of the intrepid African explorer heading up river in a canoe powered by some hefty natives wearing only loincloths, thank goodness. Either that or a small steamboat captained by Humphrey Bogart who is constantly mopping his sweaty brow with a red handkerchief whilst the missionary he is taking up river gazes out at the wildlife wondering whether he has made a mistake in accepting the job. The missionary’s daughter is of course gorgeous. Her mother died of some ague the moment they set foot on this vast continent and the father had to bring her up on his own. He was very strict but well meaning. You know the plot.
I think I should be a film script writer. I’d spend much of my time in villas surrounded by palm beaches with the noise of the waves constantly in the background. Waking up early every day I’d rattle off a scene or two before running down to the beach and plunging into the sea for an invigorating swim. Lunch would be followed by a snooze in the hammock. In the shade of course. The heat of the day can be unbearable. Later I’d mosey into the village to chat to the local store owners and maybe catch a cold drink on the veranda of Joe’s Bar looking out over the bay. As the lights came on it would be time to wander home and change for dinner. There are plenty of dinner options. I quite like the fish restaurant in the harbour. Only uses stuff caught that morning. Good that.
It’s the same story day in day out with the occasional visit from the producer anxious to see how the script is coming along. It’s ok. I’m a pro. The script is always finished on time. Every now and again I fill in with a book. There is never a time when I am not being productive. It’s easy when all you need to do is fit in two or three hours in the day to capture what goes on in your brain.
Of course all of this is going on in my brain because it isn’t going on in real life. That’s ok. We all have our dreams. Some scripts would be written from a cottage overlooking some craggy Atlantic coastline. The pattern of life would adjust to the locale but largely be the same. It’s a wonderful life innit?
The kids are all home for a visit. They gradually come downstairs in the morning and the writing comes to an end. It takes until around 10.30 for them all to be up and compos mentis. No point planning anything before then. The TV is switched on again and I immediately switch it off. There is no need.
We assemble between 10.30 and 11 before setting off to a beach somewhere. The ultimate objective is the café at the end of the prom. It’s under the white painted lighthouse and near to where all the boats are pulled up. The seagulls are always a problem but we keep going there because we like the place. Days are filled with gentle strolls, stops for ice creams and teas and followed by cold beers sat at the tables outside the pub looking out onto the harbour. We get fat.
This is not perceived to be a problem because of the austerity of our lives once we return to normality. Early morning exercise routine, healthy breakfast etc.
I am usually happy for the summer to fade into autumn. That particular change in the seasons is gentle. Also I wouldn’t want to live somewhere that was hot all the time. Us Brits aren’t built for it. Well I’m not anyway. I do like being able to swan around in shorts all day though. Innit?
3rd Law Part 57 here
3rd Law Part 59 here