I got a Christmas present through the post. But, blow me down, I can't figure out what it is? It's about the length of my fore-arm and can be squeezed from the sides.
It's probably something that every kitchen-proud person will instantly recognize. "It's a fizzle gripper," he/she is probably shouting out at me with scornful derision.
But, and here's the kicker, when I rang up the overseas sender of the present, she couldn't remember what she'd sent me!
I refused to send her a photo. Let her stew in her own juices - oh, wait, maybe The Thing is a lemon squeezer?
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7 December (NZ time): I've discovered what The Thing is. It's a jar opener! I was glancing through a Farmers' catalogue and found a similar object. But the funny thing Is that I don't need the present at all because I have a foolproof way of opening a jar.
I just give the rim of the lid a very brisk bang or two on the floor. You'll hear a sort of click and then the lid will unscrew easily.
As I type this, I am watching the Queen's Message on tv. I am full and happy after Christmas Day luncheon at the West Plaza Hotel.
It was a lovely meal, but it was what I would call a kiwi summer buffet. There was no roast beef/gravy/roast potatoes. There were salads, salmon, potato gratin, turkey, ham. The desserts were cold, nothing hot. I couldnt work out whether the hard cold slices of something was supposed to be Chistmas cake or plum pudding. The mince pies were obviously out of a packet. There were miniscule pavs (put your thumb and forefinger together and that was the size of all the dessert selections).
I guess that the old English tradition of a full hot Christmas day meal is practically out, which I suppose is sensible because it is our summer over here, halfway across the world from England. It is sad in a way for people of my generation, but young people, of course, don't even know, nowadays, how slavishly NZ used to follow anything English.
below: West Plaza Hotel Wellington, Christmas luncheon, 25 December 2017
I went to Scorching Bay yesterday ( 23 Dec NZ time) and had a wonderful day, but it was so hot that I had to cover up a lot to avoid sunburn. I had three swims. The photos are a bit silly because I didn't take the actual beach, just the sun-scorched grass behind it. The bottom part of the North Island has now been declared .... a drought.
I was all booked in to go to Mt Maunganui on 19 January, looking forward to it. I am such a holiday bunny in our New Zealand summer.
But ... my 20 December cataract operation appointment at Wellington Hospital has just been postponed till 17 January. So .... there goes my Mt Maunganui holiday down the drain! Sigh.
Anyway, here's some photos from my Whitianga holiday last week.
below: Along the Whitianga beach front
Above: Driving Creek Railway, Coromandel Town, an hour from Whitianga.
Above: view from Eye-Full Tower on the Driving Creek Railway Line
above: along Whitianga beach front.
Above: as a member of the Govt Superannuitants' Association I can stay at the PSA holiday homes in Whitianga.
A few weeks ago I got it into my head that I'd like to go to Whitianga which is a coastal town higher up the North Island of New Zealand. And so I went there.
I was in Whitianga for a week. Lovely swimming, terrific weather. So many things to see and places to go. I ate a lot. I drove there and back. My driving is on borrowed time because of my poor eyesight.
Driving back home, I thought that Lake Taupo looked beautiful, and the weather was extremely warm so. on the spur of the moment, I stayed in the town of Taupo for three nights.
On Thursday, it was so hot in Taupo that I had three swims in the lake over a period of an hour and a half. As I was getting out of the water, some scientific guys were arriving with signs that they dug into the ground declaring that the lake water was unsafe to swim in due to high levels of toxic algae bloom. The guys took water samples and were warning people away from the lake. Apparently swimmers could come down with rash, respiratory troubles, headaches, eye infections, etc.
I've warned my friends that the time to worry is when I start to glow in the dark, or mutate into a weird creature, or if Skittles-like spots cover my body. My friends are watching me like hawks, afraid it all might be catching.
I was at the hairstylists' the other day and please note that I didn't say the old-fashioned term of 'hairdresser' because I am so up to modern-day usage.
Anyway, I was moaning to the hairdresser (whoops...) about bows on clothes.
"I cut mine off my blouse," I said. "They were on the sleeves and annoying me with all that flapping."
"You're so right." My hairstylist pointed to her own shoes. Apparently she'd cut the bows off them.
A second hairstylist butted into the conversation. "I cut the bows off this top I'm wearing," she said. "From the middle of the neckline."
This got the three of us talking -
We wondered who kept coming up with the idea that women liked bows as clothing attachments? Bows are always coming undone. A wearer can never get them looking pristinely tied again once they come apart. They look ungainly, and six year old girls playing with Barbie and My Little Pony must surely be the only females who like bows as an accessory?
Bows? Huh? Who's joining me in a nation-wide boycott?
Does anyone else have the same trouble as I do when they pop into the supermarket for 'just one thing'?
"Ooohh, what's this-" I reach to a shelf. "Cake In A Cup? A cake made in a cup? In the microwave? In just one minute with just a spoonful or three of milk? Good golly, I need this."
I take a packet containing four helpings. Then I reach for more packets. I mean, come on, it's a cake in a cup, for goodness sake.
The floodgates are open. I can get three packets of jelly babies for just $5, two chops for the price of one and, OMG , Weightwatchers meals are on special and so I scoop up three meals.
Ten minutes later, I've swapped my shop basket for a trolley.
By the time I get to the car with a trolleyfull of swag, I've completely forgotten to buy the four-pack of toilet rolls, the one product I came in for. Oh well, pass me today's newspaper please!
I love walking around Wellington. One of my fave walks is from Miramar Wharf to Oriental Bay. I puff and pant up the Hataitai hill that's behind the cafe at Greta Point, then walk for a while with the sea a long way down on my right. When I am almost at the end of the peninsular and I can get a glimpse of the sea on my opposite side, I cross the road to go down the lovely green-belt zig zag path to Oriental Bay. Oriental Bay is named after one of the first ships, the Oriental.
Here's looking down to Oriental Bay and the city from the top of the zig zag . A dark day -
The good news is that when I was assessed yesterday for my forthcoming cataract surgery, I had a health check, and my blood pressure and heart were both declared perfect. Perfect! Wow!
Take that, Mary Poppins - you're only "Practically Perfect". But I am ... "Perfect". It's enough to make me swoon.
The bad news is I have to wait till almost Christmas for my cataract surgery. My friend says that he refuses to go to Christmas Day dinner with me if I'm wearing an eye patch. Another friend says that her Christmas present buying dilemma as to what to buy me is now solved; she's off to purchase a shoulder parrot and a cutless.
A friend of mine's doctor said to her, "I only have to look at your age to know you've got cataracts..."
Over ten years ago, I was told I had little bitty (not the correct medical term) cataracts in the corner of each eye. I worried at the time but, after a few years, when they didn't grow, I never gave my cataract problem much of a further thought. The diagnosis of glaucoma was a more important worry.
Imagine my surprise when on my return from America I was diagnosed with a cataract in one eye to justify a surgical procedure. Tomorrow I am to have a Wellington Hospital pre-assessment. The surgical procedure should be soon.
And, I have heard various tales, rumours, myths about the length of time it will be before I can swim again. Somewhere between one and two months seems to be the consensus.
It's so nice to get a sweet pretty place right-smack-dab in the middle of Wellington city. It's only a small little garden, and it's between a couple of pedestrian crossings, with shops all round, but how great to spot prettiness where you least expect it. Thanks, Wellington City Council.
"Trick or treat!" Two ghostly kiddiewinks (Dad hovering in the background) hollered at me as I opened my front door. I rushed my hand to my heart in fright. An Oscar-winning performance if I do say so myself.
I said, "I don't have any lollies ("candy' If you're American, 'sweeties' if you're British). "But here's $2 apiece-" .
The kiddies oohhed and aahhed in appreciation. Their dad handed me two notepads emblazoned with the logo of his real estate office.
Oh, yes, we are on the cusp of summer. Today (Saturday NZ time) was so warm, so sunny, with beautiful blue sky, and people poured out to the beach. There were a couple of waka (outriggers) in the bay, kids were splashing and ... transparent baby jellyfish! The jellyfish were harmless but they kept on banging into me whilst I was in the water and it was annoying. One of the regulars called them 'creepy'. The little jellyfish felt about the size of a pea, the larger ones felt about triple that size. Some kids were scooping up the jellyfish and throwing them at each other.
Oh, I didn't want this day to end, it was so lovely at the beach. We were all singing that song that goes, "In the summer-time, do-do-do-do-do-doh!" However, I won't be there tomorrow if those jellyfish are still there.
One of our swimming group was in the sea the other day when she looked across to the deck to see a guy rummaging through her bag. She yelled at him and he strolled off as if he didn't have a care in the world, but without taking anything. He was a short mature man with short grey hair and wearing dark clothes.
I went to the movies last week, flashed my Reading Cinemas loyalty card, and waited for my ticket. The guy behind the counter said, "You've got a free small drink, free popcorn, and $5 off your ticket."
Wow.
I went to another movie today. "You've got a free large drink and $5 off your ticket," said the guy behind the counter.
"No, I got that last week," I said, mentally kicking myself for my honesty. Duh.
Turned out that everything was above board. I happily luxuriated in my half-price seat, chugging my free drink and fighting every step of the way with a broken-legged (whining) Kate Winslett as she clambered over jolly big rocks and snowy mountains - plane crashes can lead movie heroines into such dangerous circumstances!
A short time back I was trying to recall the name of someone from my past. I was positive it had slipped from my mind forever. For days I tried to recall it. I said to myself, "I wish I could remember Pamela Smith's^ name."
Huh? And, well, what do you know-? The name had come to me just like that!
But the funny thing is that my friend had the exact same experience some time back. We had laughed hysterically over this happening. It must be more of a common occurrence than we both thought ...
I don't live too far away from the Airport Retail Park which has the normal shops to it, eg The Warehouse, Kathmandu, Briscoes, Bed Bath & Beyond, No 1 Shoes, Rebel....
There was once a time when an airport tower would actually be on the very edge of an airport runway. Nowadays the towers seem to be away from the airport. Our soon-to-be-finished airport tower is right-slap-dab in the centre of the Lyall Bay retail complex. It's quite a way over the Wellington Airport fenceline. I guess the radar (?) control operators rely on screens rather than visuals nowadays?
You can't tell by the below photo but the tower has been built on an artistic slant. I wonder how long it will be before photographers start treating it like the Leaning Tower of Pisa and get friends to act as if they're pushing the tower over, or helping it to stand upright?
Americans sure love their sauces. I was astounded, in Vegas, to see the immense range of sauces at buffets and cafes.
Today I'm reading about McDonalds. Apparently some special sauce was due to hit McD stores in the States. Hardly any sauces turned up, culminating in a drastic shortage. Because of the shortage, there have been riots and demos outside the stores. Oh dear.
I went to one cafe inside the Rio Hotel in Vegas and was absolutely astounded by the amount of sauces (in packets) for the taking -
I have an ordinary, old-fashioned, actual key for my car. None of that pressing a button from a distance to gain access to the vehicle. Heavens to Betsy, I am such a dinosaur.
I can't have a press-from-a-distance key because I swim a lot, and I keep my car key on a plastic coil scrunchie that I wear on my wrist. I don't forget the time a Hataitai Beach swimmer got her bag stolen whilst she was in the water. Her car keys were in her bag. Her car got stolen as well.
I hired a car a few years' ago and, without thinking, put the electronic key onto my wrist scrunchie prior to swimming in Queenstown's Lake Wakatipu.
Whoops. After my swim, the car door wouldn't open when I pressed the key from a distance, nor would it open when I inserted the key into the door lock. Silly (wet) electronic parts!
I had to call the hire car company for rescue. Never did I admit to them what had actually happened.
Is it any wonder that I now unlock my car doors manually, with an actual turn-key?
I was scared going back to the gym this week. It had been seven weeks, the longest time away from doing gym stuff in 24 years. I had to be very careful not to overdo any exercise because my body wasn't used to it, what with my holiday, and plus my sickness.
"I'm scared to get back on the horse," I said to my friend J. It was an old saying but highly appropriate.
J emailed me encouragement by way of the below image.
The gym workout turned out OK. I was only a fraction sore the following day. Oh, and 5 swims this month. Triumph!
In between the flu, and the gluggy eyes, and the laser treatment, I have managed to get in three swims this month. A triumph for me, but still only halfway towards the number of swims that my two swimming friends, The Young One and J, have notched up.
The early afternoon sun now shines on the changing shed at the beach. Directly after a swim, if I lean back against the palings of the shed and stretch my arms out wide to either side of me, pressing down hard against the wall, there is a summertime warmth all across my wet skin; it's heaven!
No, the title of this writing isn't in Klingon. It's the piece of equipment that was used on my eyes at the Wellington Hospital Eye Clinic to release the pressure from behind my eyes.
The laser makes tiny holes in the iris. And a laser? Goodness, talk about "Buck Rogers in the 21st Century", eh? Today's inventions rival many of those old sf shows. And again ... a laser? Wow!
I admit I was scared. I mean, lasers can cut through steel, and walls, and concrete. The operator only had to sneeze and I'd be a goner.
"I've got an eye infection," I had admitted earlier to the doctor operating the laser. My eyes were red inside, and outside. The lids were an eyelash away from glueing together.
But after due discussion with a nurse or two (who seemed to be totally against me being lasered), the doctor made the decision to go ahead. I had to sign a consent form that would absolve him, the nurses, the hospital, the laser, Uncle Tom Cobley and all, from any responsibility.
And now I have to wait until the 29th of September to see if the laser work was successful -
"If not," the doctor informed me, "surgery is the next step."
Not only do I still have gluggy eyes from my "American Flu", I also have an out-patients hospital appointment on Monday to have the pressure released from my eyes, via some sort of laser technique.
Scared, much? You betcha. I had to give up wearing contacts because I couldn't stand seeing my finger coming towards my eyes when I put the lenses in. When I told the eye doctor this, he said "Well, you're certainly in the wrong place today," and clutching a small bottle of eye drops proceeded to inch that bottle towards my eyes. I squirmed in my seat like a five year old.
My one hope is that the glaucoma doctors at the hospital will see that my eyes are still "American Flu" gluggy, and will send me home. Oh, I am such a coward...
Yes, okay, all right, I quite like Star Trek, in all its incarnations. But I also like Star Wars (so sue me!).
In the States last month when I was visiting show biz places, studios, and exhibits, I chanced upon a lot to do with the new Star Trek: Discovery. This tv show is starting in the States at the end of this month. It is set within ten years of classic Star Trek. It's concentrated more on Klingon people and the Klingon worlds.
Practically the whole series is done with a blue screen (or is that green screen? I can never remember which colour is used for which thing, Oops, you can tell I'm not a real Trekker, huh?). All the weapons, communicators and what-not were done on a 3D computer.
above: Klington stars Mary Chieffo and Kenneth Mitchell (taken from photo so not very clear). They had a Klingon language tutor, but only learnt phrases
above: ST uniform. Note the zip pocket in the leg. They must have copied me. Whenever I travel, I make sure that I have a sideways zip pocket lower down my trouser leg too!
above: space outfitt
above: Harry Mudd, a favourite from classic Star Trek, is back
When I was in America I noticed there was a real difference between American tv ads and NZ tv ads.
In the American ads there's no wind-swept hair, no floor mess, no peeling paint, no cluttered kitchens, no mis-matched clothing. No naughty humour.
The actors look and act as if they're all in Coca Cola advertisements - so perfect.
Here's a couple of kiwi ads -
I don't think the above ad would make it in America?
What is it about kiddies in advertisements that makes it so difficult to understand them? And coupled with a kiwi accent, would overseas viewers know what the heck the kids in the above ad are talking about?
On my seventh day back from America I dragged myself out of bed to visit the doctor. Struggling with a runny nose, five days of total laryngitis, innumerable aches and pains, gummy-closed eyes, losing 6kg in four and a half days, and a hacking killer cough ...
"It's going around", said the doctor.
Wait- what-? Going around? I drew myself up tall to my full five feet height, and looked snootily across the desk to the man.
This - my illness - was most definitely not 'going around'. "It's American flu," I haughtily declared. "I caught it in America."
'My' flu was so obviously an advanced strain, a strain not included in the NZ 2017 winter flu vaccination programme, of which I had fully partaken of prior to my American visit.
Obviously I truly did have this advanced strain of flu. I was most probably in the first wave of carriers, if not, in fact, numero uno. Respect please where respect was due.
After googling symptoms on his computer, the doctor sent me away less $45, with no prescription to make me feel I was, at least, getting my money's worth, but with plastic reassurances that I wasn't in the last throes of some terrible life-threatening illness. However he did have a lovely bedside-whoops-I-mean-deskside manner.
I'm now in the 10th day of American Flu, my eyelids only clump together now if I close them for over half an hour, and my barking cough is still scaring off every cat in the neighbourhood. Looking on the bright side, my laryngitis bout is over and I can now talk to my friends about my trip - I know they were so looking forward to hearing me nattering on about that for hours!
Above: Here's a pic of the fountain outside Wynn Casino in Las Vegas. That flying saucer thing behind the fountain is Fashion Show Mall - love that mall! I have read that the Bellagio Hotel and Casino people are going to fill in their famous fountains and gardens and also put in a mall.
...
In Hollywood, I bought a ticket at the Dolby Theatre box office to go on a 3 pm tour of the theatre. The Dolby is where the Oscars are broadcast from. Anyway, just as I almost reached the upstairs doors, ticket clutched in hand, the security guys put up a barricade blocking my way.
"But I should be going in there now," I shouted. I could see my group being led in the main doors.
"No, you're not allowed..."
I rushed over to the other side where another barricade was being put in place. Again, I was refused, regardless of my telling them over and over again that I was on a tour.
A security woman continually told me that I couldnt go in. She passed the message on to others.
Several security guards told me to go away. I did. I rushed downstairs to the box office and was given a box office security guy, plus a ticket for the next tour as I had missed the first one. So now, it was security guys arguing with each other. The box ofice guy gave up with a shrug, and the barricade guys started erecting security beeper doorways, and tables for the future checking of people and bags.
I moved from one barricade to another. Noone helped me....
...until the box office security guard came back and spoke to some bald barricade guy who looked like he was in charge.
The bald guy was the producer, or director, or whatever to do with the tv show "America's Got Talent" and he thought I was one of the hundreds of shouting fans dangling over the barricades. His live tv show was due to start in the theatre in a few hours. He apologised to me, said he'd seen me but didn't understand that the theatre was conducting tours at the same time as he was setting up for his show.
By now five others had joined me for the tour.
Ending: inside the theatre, we got to see a singer on America's Got Talent in full rehearsal mode, complete with lights, lasers, settings. He was 17 year old Christian somebody-or-other and he sang "Make it Rain". He had about ten mirrors behind him and before he got to sing, ten mirror polishers came on and each polished a mirror (why on earth couldnt one man have done the ten mirrors?). After Christian sang, some woman in a bathrobe and fluffy slippers (Tyra Banks?) came out and told Christian how magnificent he was, and - out of sight - we could hear judges gushing over the singer. They weren't the proper judges, just a rehearsal panel.
The theatre was so beautiful, and there were dozens of Americas Got Talent people bustling everywhere. The full show would have gone out live that evenng (Monday of last week) before a live ticket-holding audience of thousands upon thousands who would all be waiting behind the barricades for that night-time show.
I'm back from my overseas holiday. I arrived two days ago. As I emerged from the plane in Wellington, I had a headache. By the time I got home, my nose was running. As I got into bed (it was midnight), my throat started to hurt. The following morning, I felt ... yuck!!!!
I had a great time in Las Vegas but I don't think I can handle the heat there anymore. It's time to say farewell, I figure. When I'm happily on holiday I forget to eat and drink and I got totally dehydrated one day. I felt so awful!
Other days, of course, I did remember to eat -
I went to Universal Studios in Los Angeles and saw the new Wizarding World of Harry Potter attraction - the butterbeer was sooooo delicious:
and I visited Paramount Studios where I got transported ..... Yep, Star Trek.
...
I saw Cher singing her classic hits in the same costumes as her early videos. She arrived on stage riding an elephant (fake). Here' a very blurry picture -
I had lots of nice meals and some terrible ones. I met many lovely people - I've said it before and I'll say it again, Americans are so-so-so polite.
My plane from Australia to Los Angeles had to deviate to Honolulu to get our toilets fixed, adding three hours to the schedule. Ugggghhh....
Whenever I'm nearing the start of a holiday I always break out ( very untunefully) into Cliff Richard's "Summer Holiday". Today, I'm singing, dancing, somersaulting, walking on air because I'm off to Las Vegas next week.
My house-sitting friend from Auckland (plus husband) arrived last night. I doubt if I'll see her much before I leave. This morning she's off to Te Papa (Museum of New Zealand). She has all sorts of adventures planned for the days ahead, including Wellington on a Plate - she'll be scooting here, there, and everywhere, all around the Wellington restaurant and cafe scene.
You won't hear from me for about two and a half weeks. Sorry, but.... wooo-hoooo!!!!
I was at the gym a while back. Vintage music was playing over the speakers. I guess a nineteen-fifties thump-thump-thump rock'n'roll beat was considered highly motivational for all the fast moving that's required in circuit training..
The song was "You've Got What it Takes". The singer raucously vocalises about the faults in his girl-friend. Apparently, she doesn't dress in the best of taste. Oh, and nature didn't give her such a beautiful face -
"...but baby, you've got what it takes.." Huh-? What-?
How disparaging...
I loved the song when I was young, sang it with gusto, danced with my poodle skirt flaring around me (okay, it wasn't quite a poodle skirt - it had the name "Elvis" lovingly embroidered all over it by my own not-so fair hand and chain-stitched hearts and musical notes were interspersed amongst my declarations of love for The King).
Nowadays, I'm stunned by the writer's lyrics.. Sexist much?
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Below are some photos I took a couple of weeks ago when there was a parade in Wellington for the arrival of the America's Cup. Forty-five thousand people lined the streets to welcome the sailing team. Yay, Hoo-ray! We won the cup! Thank you, Peter Burling, Grant Dalton, and the whole team.
Every now and then, I get the urge to try something new. I remember when I decided to give tatting a go. That hobby lasted a week. Archery was a year, vampire romance reads another year, collecting dolls' clothes, phone cards, and paper weights were a fast and furious few months ...
A while back I got the urge to paint shells. Once they were painted I hadn't a clue what to do with them, unlike a friend who does gorgeous little paintings on small stones and leaves them here, there, and everywhere (I occasionally help her out by strategically sitting a stone on a fencepost at Hataitai Beach).
Wow, there are more winter swimmers? And winter swimmers who are swimming just a few bays away from Hataitai Beach? It sure is great to know there are others like J, The Young One, and myself . I expect there are pockets of older swimmers all around the coves and inlets of Wellington?
Hey Liz and Charles, do most people shake their heads in wonder and call you 'mad', like they do us ? A few (very few) people have called us 'brave' which we rather bask in the glow of. I very much like the word 'heroic' but sadly that hasn't been used yet, though I'm still hoping.
Thanks for your comments on our 21 June swim. If we'd known you were around, we would have extended our shortest day Hataitai Beach invitation. We should have pinned our shortest day flyers on other bathing shed walls, rather than just at Hataitai Beach (it was pretty difficult finding a way to get the flyer onto the wall in the men's changing shed - don't ask!).
There 's a new creative centre in my suburb of Miramar. I'm not quite sure what a creative centre does, but as the building is almost next door to Park Road Post Production, across the road from some casting offices, around the corner from Weta Workshop, down the street from Stone Street Studios, and amongst a spread of graphic/digital offices, I rather figure that the new Miramar Creative Centre is to do with acting, directing, editing, computer graphics, and the like. I'm thinking that portraitists, landscape artists, ballet dancers, jugglers and bagpipe players won't get a look in. The creative centre is a division of Victoria University.
And what about those people on the bus who make phone calls? Loud phone calls. Somehow these folk think that their calls are extremely interesting to everyone else sitting captive in that same bus.
Last week, along with twenty or so passengers, i was forced by sheer proximity to listen in on a young lady talking to some guy -
"How about Saturday?" she was saying. "We could go out Saturday... Or Friday? ... Tomorrow?"
The conversation progressed, with the young lady pushing to set up a date. It was so obvious to all of us in the bus that the lad wanted nothing to do with her. How come she didn't see that?
On another day, i was sitting in the bus opposite a teen of about seventeen as, via the phone, she told her mother how sick with the flu she felt. Her boss was sending her home where Mum was now obviously waiting with a hot water bottle and a jar of Vicks Vapour Rub. For 35 minutes everyone in the bus had to hear about this teen's symptoms in excruciating detail, the words sprinkled in and out of sneezes and hacking coughs.
I came down with a terrible head cold a couple of days' later. I'm not pointing fingers ..
There are millions of people on this earth who have never heard of the Americas Cup, including millions in America who don't even think about yachts. The Americas Cup Is officially the oldest sporting trophy in the world and I was the only person to voice this answer at a table quiz a few weeks back! Kudos to me.
After four years of preparation and weeks of gruelling competition in Bermuda, Emirates Team New Zealand won! I reckon every solitary person in New Zealand, the whole four and a half million of us, watched or listened to the unfolding drama of that final race against Oracle. Oracle had its millionaire backer, we had dozens and dozens of sponsors and donators.
After the debacle (for us) of the Americas Cup competition four years ago, the country is now deliriously happy. There is to be a ticker tape parade in Auckland next week.
Brrrrrhhhhhh! June 21 was a fine day, but extremely cold. We weren't going to hang around in wet bathing suits posing for photos, even if it was for J's personal paparazzo. So, we compromised. Our little group posed after the swim, all wrapped up in our winter woollies, and proudly holding polar bear certificates to show we truly had done the plunge (actually it was my 10th swim for the month, and my friend J had beaten me by one swim).
We have learnt to dress very quickly and get to indoor heat as fast as possible after a winter swim. Otherwise, for hours, we end up with chattering teeth, extreme shivering, blue skin, and frozen fingers and toes. An important thing to remember is never-never shop in the frozen food aisle at Countdown directly after a winter swim!
(It's been said we look like a group of carol singers in the photo. We are so open for paid offers come December.)
My swimming friend J, her personal paparazzo, and myself went for a hike at the Wainuiomata end of the Rimutaka Forest Park.
It was a nice day, birds were warbling, we had a pleasant hike and a yummy picnic. Also, as an added bonus, there was no slipping or falling (remember my famous forest fall the summer before last?).
I was seventeen. My brand-spanking-new driving licence had been clutched in my hand for only three weeks.
I was driving through the gates at the Shelly Bay air force base that's right on the coastline here in Wellington. It's a through road for the public.
A sign announced something to the effect of 'Speed Bump Ahead".
I read it as "Speed. Bump Ahead". Notice the subtle difference?
I raced toward that bump like a Le Mans rally driver. My father's car took to the air. I landed with a loud crash! Thank heavens the car was intact. My nerves certainly weren't.
I notice, nowadays, there are signs everywhere that say "Slow down. Speed bumps ahead". Even at Shelly Bay. Good thing, too. Precious young teens in a funk with so much Road Code clutter in their heads might not be able to cope.
I agree to take a phone survey. I then agree to test a spanking new mystery product. I am quite excited to be a guinea pig. My friends will be ever-so jealous.
Wait-! What? I'm to test toilet paper?
I find at this point that I am a little over my initial excitement.
When the toilet rolls arrive, I read the accompanying instructions. I have to fill out a questionnaire:
Is the toilet tissue soft to my body? How many squares would I tear off at a time? Does it rip easily? How is the paper to flush? Are width and length pleasing ? How often would I use it ...?
Do you remember the times when we used to get 30 days to pay a bill? I'm not sure if that was an official rule or just a "gentlemen's handshake" thing?
Last week I received my monthly phone bill from Spark, and from the time that bill landed in my letterbox to the close-off date for payment, it was eight days.
It doesn't help that New Zealand Post now only delivers mail three days a week. I do understand that people aren't writing letters much anymore.
I suppose the time will come when I only get a couple of days in which to pay my bills. If I'm on holiday I may miss out completely. If I'm between paydays, I may be financially embarrassed. Goodness, I may have to end up with automatic payments, via the internet?
Last weekend it was gold coin entry ($1 or $2) into the zoo and into the Zealandia nature reserve. I went to the zoo on Saturday, and Zealandia on Sunday. I managed to escape the rain, though it did rain later on. The days were glowering, dull, dark.
I love hiking around the bushland in Zealandia. Zealandia is huge, and completely fenced in. Apparently it has the longest predator-free fence in a nature reserve of its size in the world. There are tracks that take hours to walk, with so many birds warbling.
There's a man-made lake. It was Wellington's original reservoir. There are free buses every hour from Visitor Information, Te Papa Museum, and from the top of the cable car in Kelburn. There is a fee to get into both Zealandia and the zoo.
below: on one of the bridges.
below: the cheeky kea birds have learnt to press a pedal to open the lid of a feed dish.
I'm Lorraine, live in Miramar, Wellington, New Zealand and I know NOTHING about computers. Other bloggers will have fancy-shmancy blogs and I would love one, too. But, sorry, I barely know how to place a photo in a blog. My friend set everything up for me years' ago and - oh dear - it looks like that's how all the settings will stay until I, um, die. Sorry.
