Typist-in-Charge, episode 7

 TYPIST-IN-CHARGE

Episode 7

Typing Room 305, Government Buildings, Wellington, NZ, 1960's

It was a rite of passage in Typing Room 305...  21st birthdays were a big thing.  So were marriages, Christmas, farewells, and going away to Australia for a 2 week holiday (such an adventure for me!).

Today was the day I was celebrating my 21st.  I was relieving at Stores Division in Thorndon.  But the office sent a car for me and I was feted like a queen at a special morning tea.  They'd even invited my mother.

The 'girls' chipped in with food from home, and there was a 21st birthday cake.  The cake probably came from the Art Craft Cake Kitchen which was up the road, opposite Parliament Buildings;  all our  sponge cakes and sausage rolls  came from there.

I was presented with a lovely jewellery box which I still have to this day.

above:  that's my mum behind me

above:  room 305.  We shoved two typists' desks together.

above from right:  Miss Hopkins, Mrs Parr

above: from right front: Sheila, Val.    Val had her 21st three months before me and she received two beautiful vases.

 

PS: I was burrowing away in an old suitcase and I found the above slides (slides? huh?) that Francie, typist, had taken of my 21st birthday.  Wow, was I ever so young?

How artwork has changed...

 Hi there

I was standing in the Countdown Supermarket Carpark in Kilbirnie and glanced across at the opposition building - Pak'n'Save Supermaket.  Oh, some painters were doing a mural on the wall.   No, wait-!  It wasnt a mural, it was some large canvas-like material.  And they weren't painters, the guys were construction workers on a crane thingee.  The guys were rolling the artwork onto the wall.

Times have so changed.   

New Plymouth Holiday

 Hi there

I sudddenly got it into my head to go to New Plymouth for five nights.  What fun?  On the way up to NP my car got caught twice in detours because of car accidents.  A 30 minute detour at Levin.  And then, as I was approaching Waverly,  I was held up in a loooooong queue where I was stationary for over 2 hours.  

And, on the way home - at Inglewood -  I had a 45 minute detour that led me up hill, down dale, between paddocks, sheep, cows, and through  the bush.  When  I emerged, I worked out that if there had been no detour I could have covered the original route in about five minutes.

New Plymouth was great.  Every day I walked the Coastal Walkway.  I felt so tired but what a wonderful walk with a terrific sea view.  Nobody on the walkway wore masks, but the minute I crossed the train tracks into the city, masks were everywhere.

And talking about train tracks ....?  I was about to cross one lot of tracks, looking both ways and making sure no train was approaching when a guy came toward me from the other side of the train tracks.  Meaningfully, he stopped mid-track, burrowed around for his water bottle, took a swig, put his bottle back in his pack, then sauntered across to the gateway.  What a silly guy!  

below:  Mt Taranaki was a stand-in for Mt Fuji in Tom Cruise movie "The Last Samurai".

below:  Devon Street. Main shopping street, New Plymouth

below: Mt Taranaki, from the Coastal Walkway

Am I Goofy???

Hi there

Remember that old Disney cartoon about Goofy driving his car and going beserk at pedestrians?  Then when he's a pedestrian, he's mad at all drivers?

Well, oh dear, I think that's me.  On the one hand, when I'm on a pedestrian crossing I don't see why I have to give a wave of acknowledgement to a driver who stops to let me cross.  I mean, I'm on a crossing, for goodness sake.  Cars have to stop for me.

But then on the other hand ....  when I'm driving my car and I reach a pedestrian crossing I furiously think " You silly pedestrian!  How about an acknowledgement?"

Can't win.  Can't lose...

Those masks, sigh...

 Hi there

New Zealand's team of five million have been spoiled; up until a month or so ago we breezed through life at Level 1 without any Covid restrictions, except for border control.

So, understandably we suddenly feel constricted.  For me, it's all that mask-wearing -

I try to power-walk daily.  When mandatory mask-wearing came in, I figured it would be so easy to wear one as I powered over the Miramar hills.  But, oh goodness, how wrong I was.  

For the last year I have had to live with hayfever, obviously far more hayfever than anybody has ever experienced in this entire universe ever (dramatic much?).  Power-walking with hayfever is not pretty.

My eyes water down into the mask.  I have a runny nose. There's saliva.  And sweat.  And I can't see well without my glasses - masks and glasses are not a good combination.

So ... I've given up the mask.  I mean, power-walking is 'exercise', isn't it?  Akin to cycling, and jogging?  And Jacinda says that masks don't have to be worn by the activity-minded.

I still carry a mask and whip it on when approaching others though I don't often see others at the time I'm out walking.  

Wellington is at Level 2.  My fear is that if or when we again reach level 1, we will still have to wear those hated masks.

Non-communication?

 Hi there

I cart my mobile phone everywhere with me.  It's for emergencies and also for using the Covid tracing app, but I'm not one to use it for much else.  What I have noticed is that older people, perhaps those over 50 or 60, use their index finger to write texts whereas younger generations use two thumbs;  I have no idea how the young manage it.

It's a bit sad when a couple on holiday in Queenstown decide to sit down to admire the view but don't pay any attention to that view or each other -

Reading labels on household products

 Hi there

Okay, come on admit it?:  do you truly read the instruction labels of products you buy at the supermarket? 

I remember the first time I read on the back of the bottle  that a person had to put on their sunscreen twenty minutes before cavorting in the sun.    Huh?  What about all those people who slap on their sunscreen at the beach, then lie back on the sand for the rest of the day?  I guess It's no use whimpering about sunburn when clearly you never read the instructions. 

A few years ago, I rang up the sticking plaster people to complain that the plaster I had put on my arm left a burn when I tore it off.

"How long did you leave the plaster on for?" asked the customer information guy.

"Um... three days?"

"Ah ha!  The instructions on the packet say to wear a plaster no longer than 24 hours-"

Oops.

Now take Ibuprofen tablets.  On the back of the pack there is a warning not to take the product if you're over 65 years.  Huh?  Even My doctor gave me two packets.

My latest worry is to do with my kitchen cleaning spray.  For years I've been spraying the counter and  wiping it down straight away.

Oh dear me, no.  I've just read the instructions on the label.  I should have sprayed, then gone away for 15 minutes before coming back and wiping down my counters.  This is going to disrupt my whole nightly cleaning schedule.

Sigh, I guess I'll be reading more instructions in future...