Hello and welcome to issue 8 of the langeberger, your anthropological anthology of everyday life at the Lodge. Today we delve beneath the surface to investigate a rumour circulating our town...
The word is going around Swellendam that there are some very hard-headed pigeons in the neighbourhood, “killer” pigeons that can break a window pane with nothing more than a butt of their tiny heads. I should know - I started the rumour.
To change the subject for a moment, some months ago I bought a catapult. My brother Richard and I each had one when we were boys and learned to shoot with them quite well. I soon discovered that I’m a terrible shot with a catapult these days. Do you know the safest place to be when I’m using a catapult? It’s right where the target stands, whatever I’m aiming at. I can almost guarantee that I’ll hit anything but my chosen target. So it was with the pigeon that had been annoying us with its coo-ing and clucking every morning for weeks, and you don’t know how much I need my beauty sleep – but let’s not go there!
Anyway, one day after the pigeon had started its early morning serenade, I decided to scare it. I tiptoed out of the house, catapult in hand, picked up a pebble from the drive, and looked for Mr Pigeon. He was there on top of the roof, looking straight at me. Very slowly I took aim, pulled back the elastic and let fly with the pebble. I continued looking at the pigeon, expecting to see the pebble land somewhere near it, hoping to scare it off the roof. Instead I heard the tinkle of breaking glass. The pebble had described a lazy arc about a mile below my point of aim and had gone through a pane of glass on our front door, leaving a small, jagged hole. I looked up to where the pigeon was, and do you know, I swear it winked at me before it flew off!
Well I couldn’t put with a broken pane of glass for very long, so I called a glazier to come and fix it. He arrived quickly and soon completed the repair. I just knew he would ask me what had happened to break the glass. But what should I say to him, I didn’t want to tell a lie? But on the other hand did I want the truth to out? It’s a small town, gossip can spread like wildfire.
Of course, he did ask me, and all I said was, “It was caused by a pigeon.” He said, “Jislaaik, man, I’ve never seen that before.” I just looked at him and shook my head knowingly. And so the rumour started…”killer” pigeons target the Lodge!
Anyway, before I have time to create more nonsense, I'd better say those words:
Adios amigos,
Chris
To change the subject for a moment, some months ago I bought a catapult. My brother Richard and I each had one when we were boys and learned to shoot with them quite well. I soon discovered that I’m a terrible shot with a catapult these days. Do you know the safest place to be when I’m using a catapult? It’s right where the target stands, whatever I’m aiming at. I can almost guarantee that I’ll hit anything but my chosen target. So it was with the pigeon that had been annoying us with its coo-ing and clucking every morning for weeks, and you don’t know how much I need my beauty sleep – but let’s not go there!
Anyway, one day after the pigeon had started its early morning serenade, I decided to scare it. I tiptoed out of the house, catapult in hand, picked up a pebble from the drive, and looked for Mr Pigeon. He was there on top of the roof, looking straight at me. Very slowly I took aim, pulled back the elastic and let fly with the pebble. I continued looking at the pigeon, expecting to see the pebble land somewhere near it, hoping to scare it off the roof. Instead I heard the tinkle of breaking glass. The pebble had described a lazy arc about a mile below my point of aim and had gone through a pane of glass on our front door, leaving a small, jagged hole. I looked up to where the pigeon was, and do you know, I swear it winked at me before it flew off!
Well I couldn’t put with a broken pane of glass for very long, so I called a glazier to come and fix it. He arrived quickly and soon completed the repair. I just knew he would ask me what had happened to break the glass. But what should I say to him, I didn’t want to tell a lie? But on the other hand did I want the truth to out? It’s a small town, gossip can spread like wildfire.
Of course, he did ask me, and all I said was, “It was caused by a pigeon.” He said, “Jislaaik, man, I’ve never seen that before.” I just looked at him and shook my head knowingly. And so the rumour started…”killer” pigeons target the Lodge!
Anyway, before I have time to create more nonsense, I'd better say those words:
Adios amigos,
Chris
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Jislaaik (yes-like) Afrikaans: exclamation of astonishment or surprise e.g. "Jislaaik, man I've just seen Lord Lucan!"
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