It's Easter Sunday

Hi there

Well, it's Easter Sunday here in New Zealand.  In attempting a power walk this morning, I passed St Aidan's church.  There was a mingle of people outside, and they all smiled and waved at me, calling out "Happy Easter!"

And I was in a lovely mood for the rest of the day.

My mother used to tell me how on Easter Sunday, people in their thousands would promenade around Oriental Bay in Wellington in their best clothes.  Of course, the women were wearing Easter bonnets.

Wouldn't it be great if we could do this once more?  I would love to wear a posh titfer and parade around Oriental Bay. People parade in casual attire around Oriental Bay now in summer weekends, but let's take it up a notch,  yes,  dress in our Sunday best, have a true Easter Sunday promenade again?

One of my favourite old movies is "Easter Parade".  The song "In your Easter Bonnet" sung by Judy Garland and Fred Astaire is great;  they truly promenade.

And what's your stripper name?

Hi there

I worked out my stripper name the other day.  I took a previous pet cat's name and the name of a street I used to live in.  Then I joined the two together.   Wait for it -

Treacle St. Aubyn

!!!!

My goodness, that is such a brilliant name I (almost) wish I'd known it when I left school.  A new career was so open to me.  I wouldn't have had to wearily trudge from classroom to typing pool.  The name alone would have ensured me fame in the stripping world.

Yeah, yeah, don't you, my four or five readers, look so horrified.  I've seen the movie "Gypsy";  I know what a stripper does.  She sashays onto the stage in a ball-gown, lowers one shoulder strap just a tad for a peeky-boo, then throws a glove into the audience.  Natalie Wood, as stripper Gypsy Rose Lee hid behind a huge ostrich feather fan.  Treacle could have done that.  With ease.

I'm not that coordinated when it comes to dance moves but, hey, I can certainly strut with the best of them.  I'm way beyond positive that Treacle St. Aubyn would have been the best stripper.   Ever.

Sigh. 

Births, Deaths, Marriages at Hataitai Beach

Hi there

Last weekend, there was a marriage in the little park beside the beach.  What a lovely bride.  Drinkies and canapes before and after for the guests.  A swish sit-down affair.

Several times over the summer, I've witnessed  adult and children baptisms in the shallows. 

And my readers of old may well remember I arrived one morning at Hataitai Beach to discover a posh group in their Sunday best drinking from champagne glasses, and swanning around on the sun-deck.

 I rudely pushed through the group thinking how dare this lot monopolise my space?

The water at the bottom of the steps had some white-ish murky stuff to it but, intrepid adventurer that I am, I swam through it.

Across the bay I swam.  And back again, through the white stuff.

Then, a repeat.  And another.  And more.  Eight times I swam through the white spotty murkiness.

I finished with a triple seal roll just to show that I wasn't scared of no white stuff.  It was probably foam.  I climbed up the steps, shook myself. 

A finely-dressed middle-aged lady approached me.  "I suppose you wonder what we're doing here?  My uncle died," she said.  "He loved this beach.  We've just scattered his ashes-"

We both looked to the bottom of the steps to where I had swam, not once, not twice but eight times through the old gentleman's ashes.  Not to mention those darn seal rolls!

I'm telling you right now, my four beloved readers, that I rushed into the changing shed and showered solidly for about 25 minutes.  I used up a three-quarter full bottle of hair shampoo in an attempt to thoroughly cleanse myself.

Some film-maker should one day make a soap opera or a sitcom about the doings at Hataitai Beach.  For a fee, I would be prepared to act as consultant.

New Plymouth and Nelson

Hi there

I've just returned from a couple of weeks' holiday.  One week in New Plymouth and another week in Nelson.  The temp was never less than 24c and on one day in Nelson, the temp hit 29c, a March heat record.

On the 29c day in Nelson, I had booked to go on a day trip to the Abel Tasman National Park.  All a -tingle with excitement I waited at 7.30 am at the Tahunanui bus stop to be picked up.  An Abel Tasman Shuttle bus approached.

I waved happily, and the bus glided right on past me.

Huh?

I was forgotten, forlorn, standing there on the pavement with my bag stuffed full of bathing suit, food, sun block, sunhat, umbrella, and anything else one could think of to ensure a good day in the bush and on the beach.  Not that I was going to go bush adventuring (been there, done that, sprained my knee), but a day lazing on the Anchorage beach would be sublime.

I contacted the company and, yes, they'd gone to a different place to pick me up than the place that was written on my ticket.

I was given a free trip for the following day where the weather wasn't quite as nice, but I did get up close to dolphins which I believe are rarely spotted in the National Park area.

I was so ticked off at being left high and definitely dry that I stomped across the road to Tahunanui Beach and went for an 8 a.m. swim. 

Here's the view from the deck of my en suite cabin at the Belt Road Seaside  Holiday Park in New Plymouth.  I love Belt Road because it is right next to the Coastal Walkway which is a fantastic place to wander.

Rocky horror Show Richard O'Brien

Hi there

Not many people, outside of New Zealand, know that Richard O'Brien, creator of the Rocky Horror Show and star (RiffRaff) of the Rocky Horror Picture Show, is living in New Zealand.

Okay, he was born in England but he moved to Hamilton at a very young age and it was attending the midnight sessions at his local picture theatre that inspired him to write Rocky Horror.

He lived overseas for a long time and recently, as a pensioner, wanted to return and live here.  The Government refused him entry - Richard had not bragged about his status when he applied -  because they figured that as a pensioner he wouldnt have the funds to support himself and thus would be a drain on the New Zealand health and tax system.

HA!  He's a multi-millionaire.  Rocky Horror is always playing in theatres somewhere throughout the world.

There is even a Weta-sculptured  statue of him in full RiffRaff clobber right  in the centre of Hamilton!

Of course, because of the publicity and public outrage, Richard was allowed into the country!

Everyone likes to go back to their roots.

###

Here's Richard O'Brien and his statue:

What's the difference between an elephant and a sparrow?

Hi there

When I was nine, I was given some sort of psychological test by my school.  One of the questions was "What's the difference between a horse and a sparrow?"

A favourite  book at the time was "Alice in Wonderland", and a favourite riddle from that story was "What's the difference between a raven and a writing desk?"   Oh, I was so totally in to riddles.

And when the educator asked me the horse/sparrow question, my nine year old mind raced away, visualising all kinds of sneaky answers to this riddle.  I never so much as thought for one minute of a regular answer like ... "the size", which was just a plain old statement of fact, and not a riddle at all.

How my future school life suffered because I couldn't come up with such a mundane answer, I'll never know.

But all this talk now brings me to elephants and sparrows.  Growing up, I was always told that elephants had a secret graveyard where they went to die.  Who knows if this has been proved rubbish?  But I've often wondered the same thing about sparrows.  I must see hundreds of sparrows a week, but unless, perish the thought, a cat has killed one, I never see a dead sparrow.  Do they have a hidden graveyard they go to, like elephants? 

It's a mystery....

***

Oh yes, and  "What's the difference between a raven and a writing desk?"    I haven't the slightest idea.

Me, Biking??

Hi there

I have been a bit of a wimp the last week or two re pushing boundries with my bad knee, but then I suddenly thought, "I walked around Mt Maunganui a couple of weeks ago, i am not an invalid!"  Granted, to walk around The Mount probably takes an uninjured person about 45 minutes and it did take me an hour and a half, and with the aid of my hiking stick.  I did sit down a lot.

So?  So... I went for a bicycle ride yesterday, just to prove that I could do it.

Every time i came to even a slight rise, I had to get off the hired bike and push it because that was when my knee sort of did hurt.  I was kind of embarrassed to let others see me doing this, but the pride of being able to even ride the bike in the first place soon overcame any feelings of embarrassment.

I still can't do breast-stoke or over-arm in the water.  I can only swim on my back which is a bit of a downer but, hey, there's always next week...

Up and at 'em!