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I've been on Facebook as Meg Mitsuhashi Nakagawa since late February. Most of my trivial thoughts seem to pop up there of late. Or at Unravelling in a more long-winded way. Just in case you were interested...

Just Another Saturday Market

Then, the Grown-Up Version of Couch Burning

New Zealand over all hasn't got very good public transportation. Except the capital, Wellington. It's particularly less than ideal in Auckland where one-third or one-fourth of Kiwis live.

So, this National Party government announces, with a straight face:

1) Surveys show most Kiwis travel to/from work, school, etc on private cars, therefore, gazillions must be invested in roads, particularly state highways.

2) Since Auckland is such a big and important city (and the PM's home turf), the entire country should pitch in on Auckland roads. Including us Mainlanders who may or may not get there every once in a true blue moon.

On the more enlightened subject, the PM wants a cycle road from the top of the North Island to the bottom of the South Island as a tourist attraction and an unemployment-busting measure. So, a chain gang with pitchforks the length of this GodZone, folks.

I saw a book called "the Attraction of the Irrational" or similar yesterday; maybe next on my reading list.

PS. Mind, re. the public transport vs road issue, the Labour government didn't do to well, either.

Rituals

University students in New Zealand, particularly down in Otago (Dunedin), seem to celebrate any notable occasion and some non-occasions by setting fire to couches. As in yesterday's St Pat's day.

Doesn't make sense to me because... where do you sit the following day?

Illogical

So, Ben and I have joint bank accounts; we don't have individual accounts and both of our names are on all of our accounts. But we have two log ins, because the bank created two log ins at the start.

I do the bill paying in my house, and today I was trying to pay some of the payments involved in this building project. And the payment won't go through because it exceeds the daily allowed transfer amount; this came in as a security measure a few years ago. Fair enough.

So I ring the bank and ask the payment to be released, and the guy swears it's not showing up, and I have to do it again while we're on the phone, and it's still not showing up. Until the guy checks Ben's account and he comes down like a ton of bricks saying Ben and I are breaching our contract with the bank by me logging on as him.

I almost said, "check the bloody names on our account", but I didn't. Instead, I said the bank is culturally insensitive to Japanese wives whose husbands just tell them to do this and do that, and we're only following orders; I was hoping the call guy was in India. He emphatically agreed shouting "Indeedy!!", though I couldn't be sure.

Music Lessons, Anyone?

A young chap we met recently, Nigel, told us about an interesting venture his brother started. It's called Rock Start Recipes, based in Christchurch, and creates downloadable music lessons. See? It's a wonderful business idea to try to reach the rest of the world from down at the bottom of the world. Christchurch being further south than Nelson, it's even further bottom-er than us.

I just about fell off the chair when I saw the website, because the main guy Jon look so like Nigel.

Go Kiwis!!

Anna Barnett Raku Vase

The tiny orange one. Here's the small pink one, and another rendition of the pink one. Anna is one of our favorite Nelson potters.

You'll Love Me for This!

Yip.

"My" Ukulele

When I was home, Dad gave me his ukulele, so I came home with it carefully wrapped in clothes and in the suitcase, with a bottle of musical instrument oil. He played it, as it turns out, for over 50 years and we kids used to play with it and abused it, so there was plenty of dirt, grit and who-knows-what-else. Besides, Dad used to smoke two packs of Camel a day.

I always thought he bought it himself when he was a student, but it transpired Mom gave it to him as a present before I was born! Mom didn't remember, but Dad is the kind of guy that remembers these things. (He used to be a hopeless Romantic. He once let me read a letter he wrote to Mom!)

It's a very special thing for me. My parents don't have much they can hand down to us, and there are three of us. But he used to play it most often when I was the only kid, and Mom was pretty sure my siblings wouldn't be interested. He was pretty good, and he knew a lot of Hawaiian songs. Kath Bee tried it last week, and told me it's a really good instrument, even though the pegs (??) at the top are wooden, so it gets out of tune even as you play one song.

I hope to practice, but no sweat if I'm no good or progress slowly. It's a piece of family history, and particularly appreciated because of my tenuous relationship with Dad. Though at times it can be tough being the oldest, there are lots only I share with my parents, because I was the only child for the six and a half years.

But then if you take the humble instrument to Paris, it can be make truly respectable music, especially in the hands of such long fingers!! Hats off. (Thank you, Lynne, for the pointer.)

Late Afternoon Class