Yesterday, with steely eye, The Boss advised me that my room was wanted. The implication was that I was not.
So I have left the ancient seat of my ancesters and like many of my forbears am trekking Northwards to Egoli, the Mythical City of Gold, Johannesburg my birthplace.
I shall miss the animals.
I have left all my books for my stepson Robert who is currently working on his Masters in Comp Sci at Rhodes. Majoring in Windsurfing and Girls from what I can see. "But my thesis is only due next year", he cries. Ah youth.
One gets used to having certain books and feels that a part of one's mind is being lost . I eyed my Complete Set of Knuth longingly. I yearned after my Programming for Poets. But no, space did not permit.
But I could not bear to be parted with Griswold's "The Snobol4 Programming Language" and Gimpel's "Algorithms in Snobol4". So I sneaked them in.
So, bulging at the seams with all my worldy goods, my valiant little vehicle trundled Northwards.
The Karoo (literally "very dry place") has had good rains this year. There are pools of standing water and everything is green, a rare sight. But El Nino is coming. The animals are fat and the acacias are in bloom. Tiny yellow fluffy flowers on all the thorn trees, covering the veld with green and yellow patches.
Hell on Wheels if you suffer from hay fever, but aesthetically pleasing to the casual observer.
The Dassies (Rock Hyrax, a sort of fat rabbit with short ears) are so plump that they can barely make it across the road in their suicidal little games of "Chicken".
This trip I saw no less than three white tailed mongooses running across the road. I take this to be a good luck token.
Well, so much for good luck, at Cradock (home of the famous Olive Schreiner authoress of "Story of an African Farm") I missed my normal turn towards the Gariep Dam in the dark and blundered around in literal Darkest Africa for two hours.
It always amazes me that there are such huge areas of this country full of nothing, with not a light or signpost to be seen in 50 miles, and then we all cram into the cities. Crazy.
Road travel in Southern Africa has two modes. Hectic maneuvering to avoid the other idiots on the road and long stretches of boredom riding arrow straight roads through featureless country.
So one has ample time for philosophical musings. And the net result of my musing on this trip is that my Y2k Mission to the Eastern Cape was an unmitigated washout. For three months I gave little talks and knocked on doors. People listened politely and then went away unimpressed. My powers of persuasion are obviously in sad need of repair. Net revenue nil.
Heck, now I can add "Homeless Indigent" to my Resume, that should impress people.
My ancestors, Missionaries all, worked in the Eastern Cape to convert the heathen. I seem to remember that the said heathen did not want to be converted either.
There is honour and social acceptance in attempts to save souls. This is not the case in attempts to save systems.
If you talk about Y2k for free, you are labelled a Crank. If you charge a fee, you are an Exploiter. There is no profit in being a Y2k Prophet.
I left Bloemfontein at 9am, and drove into a blast of heat. As mid-summer approaches, the African Sun goes out of it's way to be unpleasant.
The metal of the bridges across the highway give off a heat haze. I long for the coolth of Huge Mainframe machine rooms hissing with high power airconditioning. In the lanes going south the holiday-crazed crowds race lemming-like towards the sea.
The world works on the buddy system. My old buddy Alf Stockton is putting me up for a while, so I find myself in a very up-market cottage in Midrand (the local equivalent of Silicon Valley).
Sheep bleat peacefully outside my window. Kiewiets cry on the lawn (Plovers, I am told there are three species here, but they all look like Kiewiets to me). The dogs, Jones and Diva have given me a heroic welcome. The Cat, Smokey, has disdainfully acknowledged my presence.
(These beasts can be seen at http://www.fast.co.za/~stockton in the four legged family member section)
And from my kitchenette I can look south and see the lights of the whole Reef. And after the heat, nature is treating me to one of astounding lightning storms that only those born here truly appreciate.
And now the gentle rain.
So I am back home in the big city, but it feels like country. Real work on Real Mainframes tomorrow. Life is Good.