I bought a lot of paints and stuff while in George, as I wanted to do as much as possible during the next few weeks. The car was bursting out of it's overloaded seams, and as the new little Chevvy Spark that I now drove had the tiniest boot ever seen, most of the stuff had to go onto the back seat.

I was driving along quite merrily, looking forward to finish the bedroom floor so that one room at least was livable, when a bally fool in a white bakkie (small truck) suddenly emerged from a thick cloud of dust, and without the driver even looking to left or right, drove from a small farmroad into the tar road I was on! Almost had a fit, as I was driving at about 110kph, and I had to break very hard so as not to hit him, with the result that all my stuff on the back seat shifted to the front, and I could hear stuff dropping to the floor, but was too cross and busy throwing this fool some signs that a man once threw me when I forgot to put my indicator on, that I did not take too much notice!

I sat down amidst the cow dung and cried for about half an hour when I opened my car's back door at Haarlem, and saw that the seat, the floor, and everything that was near enough to the tin of white paint, was now snowy white and stickey! With me breaking so hard, the tin must have gone forward so fast that the lid had come off! What an awfull mess! But I had to dry my tears and start cleaning, as it was warm, and I knew that once the paint was dry, it would be impossible to remove.

So I set to with a bucket and a desert spoon and scraped the most of the gooy mess out, then I got rags and a brush and after about forty buckets of water, the car was almost clean of the paint, but not quite, and will always carry the scars. The covers did not help a lot, and as they were by now stiff and dry, I chucked them away with the mats that were also not looking good, and I just did not have any inclination to clean them, and just rinsed down the other tins and stuff.

Most of my day was now gone, so I decided to screed the scullery floor, as I was eager to start painting it. I intended to paint three blocks on the small space, then paint a sheep, a chicken and a lemon in the blocks! As the house was so old and dilapidated, I felt that it definitely needed a bit of cheering up! I underestimated that little job, as the screed, a kind of self levelling cement was quite hard to mix, and I needed a lot more than I thought before it levelled out! Now the waiting for the stuff to dry!

I was just too tired to worry about making my bed on the tressles, and have a cold shower, so I went over to Sheila and bummed a bed.

But my tired legs were first tested to the utmost when, on me entering her gates, her bally new goose, an extremely ugly and evil looking bird, took exception to my being there, and started chasing me around the yard, neck stretched to about a metre, and hissing like a giant snake! The eight dogs, that were a scary looking mob as they were of course mostly Alsations, thought it a great game and joined in with ear bursting barks! The goose actually got me on my calf, leaving a swollen red mark. Sheila quickly dispersed this lot, and I got my nice clean bed and hot shower!

The photo below is of Irma's veranda, which needed a lot of work, but she was busy beautifying the lounge with small tiles along the skirtings, to hide the holes, she said! Ha-ha!