Dad the Widower

Then there's Dad, the original truth-shifter. He went on one of those Japanese group tours to somewhere in former Eastern Europe; Mom couldn't go because Kid 2 and Kid 3 were still rather young, so Dad was one of the few roosters on a bus full of hens.

At first, he liked the attention, but by about Day Three, he grew weary of the clucking. So he confided in the bossiest hen he was recently widowered, and was retracing their honeymoon route. He enjoyed the rest of the trip in peace. I kid you not. He came home and reported this triumphantly.

True Story

Speaking of Baby Brother, he was a smart kid, but a late-bloomer in the book-studying department . While in high school, he was in a tight group of four boys, one of whose father was a prosecutor in a then-high profile case. The boys sat listening to the said father explain how law worked. So inspired, all four vowed to become involved in law.

Fast forward 10 years; after several heartbreaking attempts, he finally qualified, so Parents shouted him a holiday to New Zealand. Being a friendly sort, he struck up conversations with friendly Kiwis; when asked what he did, he'd proudly report he's just qualified. After a few days, he came home to tell Big Sis he thought it not a good idea to tell people he's a lawyer by the reaction he received.

For the remainder of the month-long holiday, he told everybody he was a bullet train driver, and got the adoration he felt he deserved. True story.

17 Years Ago Today

Ben and I got married 17 years ago today. Kind of. I mean, we really did.

In Japan, when a child is born, the family goes to the Ward (subsections of the City) office and registers the birth by entering the child into the National Family Registry (sic: my translation); I'm not sure how other countries' birth certificates/records work, but the base unit in the Japanese system is family, not individual. Only after that, a person legally exists and can get education, vote, or obtain passports later in life.

When two people marry, you have two choices: either one person (usually the girl) can leave her family and join the other's (so, yeah, the guy's), or both can leave their respective families and set up a new family in the Ward they will be residing. And I bet you can guess which way we went. Anyway, this is all there is to legally being married; two copies of a flimsy handwritten form, signed and stamped by us and two witnesses, who can even be parents, and copies of the two parties' family records. This, we did one rainy Saturday, on April 1, 1990, (my preference), and it being a Saturday, we left it with the security guy at the gate, which is what you do.

I wanted to have the wedding on April 1, also, but Baby Brother was scheduled to start university on that very day, and there was to be another family wedding mid-month, so we had our wedding on April 28, which turned out to be a glorious spring day. Baby Brother didn't start Uni until April 4, but Ben had a business trip to Hong Kong the first week of April anyway, so all was good. And we have two anniversaries.

Many couples go to the ward office in the morning of the wedding day, some ask relatives or friends to deliver on their behalf, some sign the forms during the wedding and have it delivered to the Ward office later. And if the family registry of one party is far from where the couple intends to live (as in the ancestral home of the husband's family, for example), I'm pretty sure you can mail it in.

Because husbands and wives are not permitted, the last time I checked, to have separate last names, we know a few friends who had weddings, and in all intents and purposes are married, but are not legally married and I don't know what they do with the Registry. I can tell you there is only one place to enter the last name for any given family.

When lay people marry into the Imperial family, like the wives of the two current princes, they are deleted from the National Family Registry altogether, so they can't vote and they can't divorce, though I'm sure they have some kind of a special Imperial Family registry.

Oh, and our wedding. Well, it's wasn't a ceremony but one big party. No celebrant, not even the traditional guardian couple (kind of like godparents who are supposed to act as mentors, and even parents should something happen to your real parents). We did write and exchanged vows, but for the life of me, we can't find the scripts. I do remember I vowed to fight clean. And friends played music and put on a great comedy play, and we were told the food was spectacular, but darned if I can remember any of it. We were just so glad we finally pulled it off amidst one of the most prolonged busiest periods of our working lives.

And neither of us remember who proposed to whom, when or where; most likely I told Ben we were going to do this. And thank goodness I did, because I seem to have a lot of issues these days, and some days Ben's the only thing keeping me upright.

So, yay to anniversaries.

Missing Minnesota

I'm going nuts this morning because I was supposed to go to Minnesota in July and visit my Washburn and Hamline friends and professors. I had to force myself to see reason and tell everyone I'm not coming, about a week ago, because I just can't afford it. Now there's a bit of a vacuum in my life that I just can't fill.

I'm lucky I have three "hometowns" - Yokohama, where the rest of my family live, Twin Cities where I spent two years as a small kid, and high school and college, and now Nelson where I've been for over 10 years now.

Formative years are so formative that even though I've been in New Zealand longer than the total number of years in Minnesota, or the US (one year in Tucson), I go back to the days I hung out with Liz to measure where I am vs. where I was planning to go back then. I was also a seriously self-absorbed, snobby teenager, and it's a wonder Liz can be bothered with me at all. I'm noticing some Kiwi characteristics in me that I didn't have before, (I'm finally becoming a bit of a practical person!!), but I still see myself as a mixture of Japanese/Midwestern/Convent school .... personality.

I also know you can't go home; Twin Cities must be substantially different from what they were in the 70's; both Minneapolis and St Paul are at times unrecognizable, but at least I get to see them through DPs.

I had so many things I wanted to tell/ask/show Liz. I wanted to go back to when we were 16 and picking out our children's names; (Liz used none; I had no kids). I wanted to get to know Dr C as a person, not as my prof, and learn more about active pacifism. I wanted to go see Baby M, who turned two when I lived with her family and whose final adoption hearing I was privileged to attend. I wanted to roam the streets and parks of South Minneapolis where I walked (and cross-country-skied). I wanted to go to the Malt Shop, the State Fair, Valley Fair (does that still exist?), the Renaissance Fair (is that still held?), I would have even gone to the Zoo if someone else wanted to go. I wanted to go see the Mary Tylor Moore house, because I lived across the street for a while, I wanted to go see the space that used to be West High School, and Washburn. I wanted to walk around Lake Harriet and go to the Rose Garden where I met Paul Newman. I wanted to go to the Walker, Guthrie, and the Art Institute (I used to live across the street from that as well, but that house street was demolished when the main building expanded). I want to walk up and down Nicolett Mall.

Uggggghhhhh.... I mean... Uggggghhhhhhh......

Retracing Footsteps

Liz laughs about how much money we have to spend to keep ourselves healthy as we get older. We met when we were 16.

Today, I've been walking a lot. Inside the house, but I've been on the move non-stop for at least the last couple of hours. I keep having to look for things I had in my hands just a few minutes ago, retracing my footsteps and thought-steps (??), trying to remember what I was doing where when I last had these items - just two items. When I found them, I had to go back thinking what I was trying to accomplish when I noticed I was missing them in the first place.

This is becoming my new exercise scheme, walking around the house looking for things I had just a minute ago. This, and trying to remember proper nouns!

Morning Room Cafe Opened Today

The Red Art Gallery, the only place on earth that stocks my weaving, opened its tiny cafe, The Morning Room, today. The cakes were great, but the small, old fashioned sandwiches were delicious and surprisingly filling at mere $3.50.

Anybody who wants to meet me in town will now have to walk to the Nelson Mail end of Bridge Street and meet me at the Morning Room. Excellent!

Photographs taken and posted with the permission of Jay Farnsworth.

Salmon Oil

Salmon is good for you, right? And luckily, I love the taste, which doesn't happen often with food that's good for you. But there is a snag.

When you cook salmon, you get a lot of oil coming out of the fish; the oil is what's good about salmon, (and I know sometimes I've bought small capsules of fish oil at fancy prices.) But the oil at the bottom of my frying pan or grill doesn't appeal to me, and it doesn't look... consumable.

So, has anyone come up with a way to use that oil in ways it could be incorporated in cooking and thus be consumed? So far my only answer is scrambled eggs. And is once-heated salmon oil as good as ... I don't know.... the oil in the fish that didn't come out?

Attention: Keen Gardeners and Visual Diary Lovers

I'm a big fan of how Montana Raven lives and records her life; her recent post on keeping a Garden Diary is particularly good. Her examples are so beautiful, and beyond my drawing and hand-writing skills, but it is a fabulous idea, and one where I can combine my new hobby of bookbinding. I had thought vaguely about keeping a short-term garden diary to encourage me to get out and do something about our Weed Palace this winter, but seeing her examples make me want to do it; at least the Diary part!

Chuck (and Suzie)

We finally took our cranes, from the Paper Cranes Project, Chuck (mine) and Suzie (Ben's), to Rabbit Island for a bit of crane shooting. Suzie is a bright lemony yellow, Chuck a mid (blah) brown, so I picked Chuck for the challenge. In the end I found the "warm color affect" on my camera; he came out a bit more orangy than he really is, but hey, how doesn't tweak fashion photography nowadays, eh?

So, now, which one to send in? I can't decide. Please have a look here, and recommend which one to pick. Please?

Here's Suzie, already on her way to the US. Isn't she lovely in bright yellow? And here's my friend Starbyte Liz's contribution.

By the way, Liz, who's running this project, has had 1000 requests for the cranes, so no more requests for the time being, folks.

A Splash of Color

Naughty Visual Arts students! (Or teachers?)

Speaking of All Blacks

Does anybody know where the former captain Taine Randall disappeared to? I know he did a bit of commentary when the Lions were here a couple of years ago.

When he was playing was the peak of my interest in Rugby; my all time favorite in my very short career was a Rugby watcher. He should have been made a captain a bit later (he was younger than 22), and he should have been given a more stable position rather than being moved around (because he was so versatile), but I hope he's doing well wherever he is, whatever he's doing.

Randall is the one leading the Haka, or the one who has the solo. Looking at this old Adidas advert, I think almost all these players have retired from International Rugby (meaning, they won't be picked for All Blacks any more) and have gone overseas to play a bit of Rugby for fun and get more financially lucrative deals for a rainy day. Sigh...

Kiwi Speak

OK, this is about names.

In the Midwest of the US, where I grew up part of the time, babies are named names like Richard/Thomas/William; when they are young they are often called Richy/Ricky/Dicky (well, not really often Dicky)/Tommy/Billy (and perhaps not Willy, at least none that I came across,); and sometime during their teenage years, they morph into Rich/Rick/Dick or Tom or Bill/Will. Often they are introduced by their shorter names, and if it's a more formal occasion and you are introduced to ether a Richard/Thomas/William OR to a Mr so-and-so, often the first thing they tell you is to to call them by their shorter name.

In New Zealand, many folks stick to their proper names for life, so even if you know someone for over 10 years, they are still Richard/Thomas/William, though some are Rich/Tom/Bill from the start. So, I know it's my upbringing, but I do feel instinctively feel more friendly towards the second lot, though they may be more formal people.

I'm thinking of my girlfriends now, and I think a higher proportion or women use shorter names or nicknames, though some still stick to their proper names. Some nicknames are different; I know a few Kaths, but no Kathy, and Pats or Patty, but a few Trishs.

Of course, as Kath pointed out, famous people sometimes become known for the diminutives of their last names: Fitzy for Fitzpatrick, Banksie for Banks, but also Zinny for Zinzan; Zinny actually could be a nick name of a nick name; his All Blacks Player Profile says his real name is Murray Zinzan Brooke; elsewhere it says he changed it to Zinzan Valentine Brooke (he was born on St Valentine's Day.) Does anyone know of the origins of the name "Zinzan"??

Autumn/Fall

Ummm... just in case some of you thought the previous post was offensive, I'm posting an autumn pic just to move the van down one position. But but but... I still think it's funny. Am I mixing with the wrong crowd?

A while back I heard a "scientist" say that leaves don't fall from the tree, but the branches release them, to save energy/nutrients for the cooler weather. It feels like trees are more similar to animals that way. There were three trees in the "Bermuda Rectangle" created by the Courthouse, the Police, and the Department of Conservation; all three trees were chanting colors in progression, and this was the most changed....

Gee, am I making sense? It's 7AM on Saturday and I'm up only because Ben's gotta work today... I'm saying... this was the reddest tree.

I Can't Believe I'm Posting This!

This van belongs to the Tattoo man on Tahunanui Drive; I know this because I went to a couple of small business courses with him. His mate must have done this, and he may not have minded, eh?

If you don't know why this is funny, ummm.... here. Case closed.

More on Kiwi English

The previous post reminded me of how I used to notice the different use of the English words in New Zealand when we first came here. I didn't keep the notes, but I got a couple of years of hilarious Christmas letter thanks to them.

I do remember this though. Ben and I were at the brand new Birkenhead Shopping Center (a small mall), when I saw this probably-upper-middle-class mother with a boy around age 10 and a wee girl around... 3. It was in late January, and kids and parents were busy getting school supplies and uniforms ready.

Mum asked the boy, "Do you need rubbers?" Thank goodness he didn't! Mum asked the girl, "Would you like a drink?" and she did!!

Rubbers are erasers, as it turned out, and a drink was not necessarily alcoholic. And mum is, as you might have guessed, the female parent. What I call mums are sometimes referred to as crissies. And Christmas is sometimes called, though that's probably spelled Chrissie; and presents are sometimes called pressies.

Ms Alphabet Soup told me that in Australia, many nouns morph into diminutives with "y" at the end, and I could be mistaken here, but I think in New Zealand, we use more "ie" to create diminutives.

And did I ever mention my favorite expression I picked up in New Zealand, (though I'm not sure of it's origins)??: "She's a sandwich short of a picnic." And, yeah, it means, she's not playing with a full deck.

I'll see if I can remember any others.

(Perhaps I should have added: in the Midwest of the US, at least, rubbers are condoms, and "drinks" are usually alcoholic. Female parents are usually "mom".)

Kiwis Saying "Thanks"

I miss this one.

A decade or longer ago, when you asked a Kiwi, of the human persuasion, "Would you like tea or coffee?" many answered, "Coffee, thanks." I liked that. The answer I'm used to was, "Tea, please," but I liked the efficiency/blokiness/simplicity of sticking gratitude right away. It may even have been primarily men who said this.

I've been thinking I don't hear this often any more. I wonder if it's because I don't get out of the house much any more, or if I don't have enough Kiwi Men friends, or if this, too, is disappearing with the Americanization of the language.

I'm conflicted about the Americanization of the "English" language: I love regional differences and special expressions, and as English 200 years ago to some degree, and Esperanto more recently, have proven, even if you start with more or less a standard language, when you take it to different regions, dialects emerge naturally; that's the nature of the beast.

With the increased exposure to the written American language (though not just reading, but through writing if you don't bother to change your default dictionary) as well as the spoken, via travels, TV, movies, the Internet, you can't help the American version starting to have a much stronger influence on not only the listening/understanding, but in speaking/usage, especially among the young. I'm ok with that, too, because I'm all for having a world language of sorts.

I've been living in this land for over 12 years now: I hated calling them 'biscuits', and was thrilled to hear more and more people calling them 'cookies', but now I can't think of them as anything else but 'bickies', but Kiwis around me are mixing the three names in their usage to some degree. Language never ceases to amaze me.

Epilogue

Well, Ben got the little red car for one more reason.

When we first met, we were both in our twenties, and we had lots of colleagues in their 40's. One in particular, my good buddy, had a really bad midlife crisis and he went missing for three months. There were others, men, who had flings, drinking problems, anger problems, and marriage breakups.

Ben and I used to joke that if only the wives let all husbands buy a red convertible when they hit 42, most of these crisis would be so much less traumatic/dramatic.

Well, during the period when I was not speaking to Ben, he informed me in his normal, quiet way, that he was 42 that year. After that, I just had nothing to say: I arranged a loan from the bank that night.

I doubt Ben would have gone astray or started drinking, and he wouldn't dare hit me or it'll come back 100 times worse, but in a strange way, between the two of us, he deserved that little car.

Why Ben has Two Cars (Even Though I don't Drive)

Around June 2005, the price of petrol/gasoline in New Zealand shot up to around NZ$1.50/littre suddenly. I've always wanted to tread lightly on earth, but this really made me think about our car situation. I predicted to my very Greenie friend Ross that by December 2006, it was going to easily be more than NZ$3.00/littre.

For the last 10 years, while we lived in Nelson, we had three successive short-wheel/wide bodied Pajeros of different colors and vintage. In Nelson, there are unpaved roads outside the city, and there are plenty of 4WD roads you can venture out to. Ben loves them; I learned to live with it, and even enjoy some of the trips over the years. Back then, and still now, we have a 1994 model.

Still, most of the time, we used the car only for Ben to go into work and back, so it was a real waste of petrol. I proposed we buy a smaller, more energy-efficient, newer car. To my surprise, he totally agreed, and within days, test drove and decided he wanted a 1989 Mazda MX5/Miata/Eunos Roadster, a tiny red convertible, the first model, in addition to the Pajero, not instead of. I was totally dismayed.

We were married 15 years by then, and I felt like I was hit by Muhammad Ali right on the face. I was so disappointed he didn't get, at all, how I wanted us to live, or thought he was taking advantage of the situation and twisting the situation to buy himself another toy. Now, Ben's a straight shooter and he doesn't play games, so it's not like him to take advantage of the situation, but that's how I felt. Anyway, for about three weeks I couldn't even look at him or talk to him nicely because I was totally disgusted. And I didn't even know to whom to talk about this situation, so I emailed my high school friend Liz, who, I did not know this until that very day, also really liked cars, and she thought we should go for it!!!!! I swear it's the only time in our 17 years together, so far, that I seriously thought I cannot go on living with this man, when we see our responsibility to this planet and to future generations so differently.

But then I was thinking how he never missed a beat when I told him I wanted a big loom, with an air compressor, which would make him loose his basement workshop. Or anything else that had to do with weaving. He always said, "go for it"; no irony, no double entendre, no I-get-this-if-you-get that. And my friend Marj said, "It means it's his turn." So he got the car.

It's a cute car, I used to think it's a girly car, and the first couple of weeks I was embarrassed to be seen in a convertible, but I got used to it, and now I love it.

We still have two cars, and I still feel uneasy about it. It's not just about the energy but about material ownership and ... the amount of stuff we have. With insurance, registration and warrant of fitness, we're not saving a lot of money, but MX5 uses about half the petrol of Pajero, so all told, we are treading just a bit more lightly than we used to.

And I get great cloud and sky pics.

In worrying about the environment, energy and the future, and in trying to be a responsible citizen of the world, sometimes I wonder if I'm forgetting to have fun, though I worry if this is an allowable fun in this day and age.

Oh, and petrols is still around NZ$1.52/littre.

Rover

What is it about men ogling other men's car? They don't exactly converse, complement, or ask questions; they just stand silently, admiring and grunting.

We were approaching from the other way and I thought it was hilarious until Ben started making similar noises. I turned around and shot this, but should have gotten it from the other side to included the front grill; I probably should have videoed it so I could include the grunts!

I Joined the Toastmasters

I did. Last Wednesday. And this coming Wednesday I give my first speech.

I first met a woman (a weaver) who told me she was involved with Toastmasters a few years ago. I had no idea what that was, and imagined people standing around in Mason-like bibs and hooded garbs, clinking champaign glasses in candle light, giving endless speeches and toasting for each other's health, wealth and evil conspiracies.

Well, they certainly shake hands a lot, but they make harmless, mostly non-political prepared and spontaneous speeches, and evaluate each other. Think of it as "word sport" as opposed to, say, "dance sport". I always wanted to join the Forensics (talkers, not CSI) when I was a student in the US but never had the guts to ask, and not having been a fan of debates but rather of speeches, I only ever went to one meeting when my speech teadcher, Mr. Rogers (without a horse), asked me if I was interested. I loved it.

So now I get an hour a week of structured talk fest, and it's good to clear my head this way. I'm hoping I'll make some new "in person" friends there, too. Now that I've joined, though, I wonder if there's a strange initiation ritual involved.

Any bloggers involved in Toastmasters? I'd love advice/anecdotes/gossip.

The pic is of a tiny (about an inch in length) stone I found on Para Para Beach two years ago; my brother and his wife were visiting and we were having a glorious stroll on the beach on a summer's eve, and I found this tooth-shaped one and had to keep it. Can you tell dental problems and I go a long way?

Color Coordination

When choosing a dog, always match the color to the color of your car; that way it looks more photogenic when you're taking your dog on a drive. Kuanyin's Wailea, Maui, DP. I like the top pic, but not so sure about the spoiled look on the second pic.

Friday the 13th Part 2

Today I met, for the first time, (and I hope it's OK to say but if not, you ring me) an alien abductee. He spoke with passion and conviction. And he's a devout Christian.

Today started really good by reading this about ~Tanty~ and now I've got my wires crossed, and ... I need the idiot box.

The pic is about 4 minutes old, untreated. That's a mighty good dumping of snow over the Takaka Hills.

Friday the 13th

You wouldn't believe the day I'm having. It's Ben the Husband's birthday. I woke up with the right half of my face looking like a giant pimple ready to be popped - no pain, just red, hot and swollen. And we've had major problems with our plumbing/drainage.

On March 23, the council dug up the road to fix or investigate something or rather and our water was stopped; when it came back, we had unnatural amounts of sand in it so I rang the Council. After being reassured by Council Guy A that draining the pipes for 30 minutes or so would clear it, and he even changed the whatsit to improve our water pressure just in case, we let our water run merrily.

As of this Tuesday, we still had so much grit we couldn't sit comfortably in our bathtub: the toilet tank never stopped filling up because the grit at the bottom prevented the washer from sitting right.

This Thursday I rang the Council again, and Council Guys B and C told me I had a leak in the portion of the pipe that wasn't the Council's responsibility, and I had 14 days to get it fixed. And our water was reduced to a trickle, so this morning I rang my plumber and Plumber A came and fixed it quickly. But when he turned the water back on, we had nada, zilch, not a drip.

After 90 minutes of investigating and clearing the grit Plumber A narrows it down to the water meter, so he rang the Council for me, telling them I have no water. This is Friday at noon.

After a couple of prompts (me calling the Council politely), Council Guy C came and told me our water meter is shot after the sand and grit from the March 23 works, so he took it out. I have water now, but no meter, until someone comes back with either a cleaned or new water meter.

All this on the day when I look like a tired, middle-aged chipmunk.

Now Plumber A is not only handsome and polite, but he's clued up: he's arranged to have the water meter portion of the work billed to the Council: the Council says he shouldn't have touched the meter so they won't pay it. The plot (and the mud) thickens.

We're having fierce southerly winds (that's the cold stuff Downunder) and the clouds are giving me a heck of a show. This pic is 3 minutes old.

I hope y'all are having a good Friday the 13th, and if I don't see you, have a great weekend.

Photo Contest

I sent in the top photo, because the second one just didn't look as spectacular when it was enlarged to 8*10. Ben sent in an edited version of this one. And by sheer coincidence, I got him shooting it. Simon at Nelson City Cameras, who sold Ben his spiffy new camera, saw Ben's pic and commented: "Now we're getting serious." Yay!

At Marahau, at the start of the Abel Tasman National Park, Good Friday.

Happy Birthday, oh young Husband!

Dying to Go on a Holiday

I've been getting itchy feet, and been dying fly away like these guys to somewhere exciting like Wellington, or Sydney, or Italy, but $ is a little tight because I don't work a real job. So I've gotten a Lotto ticket, again.
In the 12 years we've been in New Zealand, we probably spent around NZ$300 on Lotto tickets, and got back a little over NZ$34; not a good return on investment. But the Easter Draw always has some added stuff, making Lotto purchase a bit more enticing.

New Zealand's Lotto doesn't pay as big as many other countries'. I think the biggest so far was between NZ$16-18 million. I don't need that much I want to go to Europe; I've never been to continental Europe except 1.5 days in Amsterdam. I've never been to New York. I long to go on a textile & food trip around Asia. I do want to go to Minnesota at least once more. And Guatemala is so far away.

What would you do if you won a bit of money?

Serious Straws

Speaking of parking, as we approached Mapua playground, we found a nice shady spot on the Serious Straws grounds, so we parked there. We didn't see "don't" signs, so we thought we'd stop by afterwards and see if they have something nice, and if not, we thought we'd leave koha for letting us park there. (It could be a Kiwi thing, but we don't like getting something for nothing.)

Serious Straws don't look like much from the outside, but they makes terrific straw hats; over the years I've bought four and Ben three; they sometimes have displays of elegant women's hats, the kind you might adorn with fabric, flowers or fruits, to wear to the horse races. Well, Ben's Panama was starting to look a bit tired, so he got this today. NZ$35. The man said portions of the work is done in the Philippines, but shaping and finishing is done here.

I thought Ben should have gotten this one.

And while at the market, I saw a man carrying a suspicious looking bag and I followed him for over 10 minutes, but he hung around one art stall, and the woman artist thought I wanted to shoot her work and kept getting in my way. So this is the only one I got. Lady, relax; it's not all about copyrights and money-making!!

Mapua Easter Fair

The mistake probably started when I emailed Kath Friday night asking if she was busy "tomorrow night" so we might watch Monty Python together; Kath replied Saturday morning, saying, "gig at 1pm; we'll see how it goes." So I thought she had a gig at the Mapua Easter Fair at 1pm Saturday, as one of the Nancies (main stage). Well, 1:17PM, Saturday, Mapua playground looked like this...

So we went to the Naked Bun Pâtisserie. Yum.

Several emails, texts, exploring the grounds and Ben's quick thinking later, I found her performing as Kath Bee (kids' entertainment), with Rich, at 1pm Sunday. Once again, kids enjoyed it, but boy, this looked like a tough one; today was the first time I heard Kath's voice going almost hoarse in the middle of a song. I think the little girl in pink wanted to take her home.

During the show, someone got involved in the action part of her songs, and let go...

If it weren't for Kath, I don't think we would have ever ventured out to Mapua on the one day when you can't park your car 30 seconds away from where you're going. But next time, Kath, please include all gigs in your UPCOMING GIGS section for idiot fans.

Country Drive on Good Friday

I'm getting the hang of sticking my hand above the windscreen and shooting semi-blind while Ben drives 100km/h. It was partially cloudy this afternoon, and the the sun and the cloud created a bit of drama.

The shiny bit at the bottom is the 80's style headlight cover of our car.

Participating in a Photo Contest

Auckland DP's Lachezar told us of a photo contest taking place in NZ this month; it's a low-profile contest for pros and armatures, one photo per person, no entry fee (I think), just for fun. The title is "Essence of New Zealand", and I instantly thought of the top one, but I also like a few others. You've seen them all in the last eight months. Any thoughts?

The bottom one is not one of my candidates, but even though all this (and more) were at my Exhibition in February, this is the one someone (a elderly Kiwi gent) wanted buy! Imagine!






I'm just out to have fun, but Ben's been walking around mumbling "Essence!! Essence??" for a month now and it's starting to drive me a wee bit crazy.

Canon is one of the hosts, and I'm hoping there may be Japanese eyes taking part in the selection, (read: we love the sky in this country), but the big prize is a Canon camera with too many buttons and whistles, and I don't want it, and Ben doesn't need it... I'm just getting a kick out of participating in the same contest as Lachezar and Ben. Louise, are you?

Ms Soup

Nong?

Happy Anniversary, Ben.

Today is our 17th anniversary. Not that we do much on our anniversaries.

Quite unrelated to that, after months and months of saving up, Ben got a new camera body. And he wasn't going to stop jiggling and stay still just because I wanted to take a photo of him getting it out of the box.

Hold on. We do have something special to do. Yesterday we got Monty Python's Flying Circus - The Complete Series DVD. Back in 1990, We couldn't go on our honeymoon for six months after we got married because of work schedule, and meanwhile we decided to go to Scotland to tour the Highlands and see the castles and taste the whiskey. Not knowing what else to do, we rented the video of Brigadoon to see if they spoke Scottish English (no!) and bought some Monty Python videos (with Japanese subtitles) so at least we could understand some English English; that must have been one of the first things we bought together after furniture and pots and pans. We wore those tapes out, nearly. We used to have Monty Python parties where we just watched them all night, eating junk food and drinking whatever was bad for us. When we moved to New Zealand, the tapes were among things we gave away to friends, and Ben especially missed them.

So, tonight, I think we'll have nice mulled wine and watch a few episodes of the Silly People. (And for the next month or so, I'll leave the credit card at home! Ouch!)

Shakespeare in the Garden

We don't go to the Saturday Market often, but we did yesterday to buy more pears; there we saw costumed young folks, second year students from the Wellington Performing Arts Centre (I think I got that right), announcing their Twelfth Night performance in Queens Gardens at 2PM. Not ones to risk missing Shakespeare, we went to the Garden with our picnic chairs, though the actors and supporters had provided blankets and tarp on the grass.

Actors doing funny games and exercises; 10 minutes to go.

Whoever had the bright hat played Feste; I think of the eight actors, six played the jester at one time or another and all actors played at least two parts.

Olivia has greatness thrust upon her; wonder what the kiddies at the front thought.

Malvolio in hidious darkness.

Viola and Sebastian reunite: Malvolio escapes darkness. By the end, there were around 40 in the audience; I hope they threw lots of koha into the guitar case.

In spite of thick clouds, cold winds and, at the beginning, only a few in the audience, these students put on a smashing performance, probably the best Shakespeare production we've seen in New Zealand. Thanks, guys!

Friday around 6PM

Newer & Newest

These are a tad newer and still the most common style around, along with a pay phone.
These are the newest, and Ben read somewhere that these were (possibly) designed by postal workers, the containers providing much easier access to the contents.