Reading books

 Hi there

Occasionally, when I'm reading a novel, I reach a passage that is so mind-blowing with a plot revelation, action, or clue that I immediately drop this hot potato of a book, gaze at the ceiling as if anticipating the second coming, and pray that my heart-racing palpitations will slow down before I have a full-blown attack. 

My breathing is shallow, my mind is skittering around with all kinds of scenarios that could fit in with the page I was just reading. Has she truly betrayed him?  Is there going to be another murder?  Is the next door neighbour involved (no, no, he's too nice for murder;  he owns a cat!).  

Is she really her husband's long-lost sister (oh, my...).  Was it actually the postie who put that  bomb in her letterbox?. - I mean, he's serving a life sentence for the deed, but what if he's innocent.....?

After a few minutes, when my mind is not so befuddled with the enormity of the book's revelation and my heart is not racing, I go back to reading.

I often wonder if other readers and reviewers have the same intense reactions to books, as I do?

Lots of reviewers declare that a book is too exciting to put down.  I differ; it's the other way around.  Sometimes a book is so exciting, it just has to be put down (but not in a derogatory way!)...

Diet Cola Spurts

 Hi there

You all know, of course, that I am a Diet Coke addict.  Have been for years.  Yes, yes, I've tried to get off it many times.  Alas....  It always takes me about three weeks to give up the drink, and during that time I am grumpy, horrible, and everyone around me cowers behind furniture.

It's bad enough silently revealing to seated strangers surrounding me in cafes that I'm a Diet Coke addict whilst everyone else is demurely drinking flat whites or fancy teas with exotic names ... but to have a public coke incident, like the incident I had last week in front of a couple of dozen people is the pits (of all pits).

"Here's your Coke, dear."  The cafe assistant plonked the bottle down at my table.  

(side question:  why do retired women always get called 'dear' by shop and cafe workers?)

"Thanks," I said.   I reached over for my glass.

Whoops ....  My fingers accidentally flicked the side of the bottle.

The Diet Coke bottle flew up through the air.  It did the most beautiful one-and-a-half somersault that would most definitely have gained first place in any Cola Olympics.  Coke spurted out from that bottle.  Over the floor.  The walls, the table....   Me.

I couldn't apologise enough.  A woman bustled over , mop and cloth in hand.  I apologised all the way through the clean-up.

"I'm happy," she said.  "I'm retiring next week."

But this embarrassing incident wasn't my only Diet Coke spillage, even though I admit that it was my most spectacular.  The month before, I'd spilt it over my bedroom carpet.  Thank goodness I was getting rid of that carpet over the next few months.

But a week after my cafe spillage, I did it again...  I was watching tv in the lounge, then leaned over to the side table for my Diet Coke.

The Coke flew straight out from the glass, in an absolutely straight line, for about four metres.  

Over my brand new carpet.

"How did you clean it up?" asked one of my friends at my senior improv group.  "You didn't use hot water, did you?"

"Well, yes, I did.  Why?  Shouldn't I have?"

Everyone shook their heads and tsk-tsked.  I'd done the unthinkable.

"Cold water works," said one friend.

"So does soda water," said May.  "Drink Soda Water instead.  You can kill two birds with one stone.  Not only can you drink soda water, but it's self-cleaning if you have an accident.  Win-win..."

.

Just "walkin' in the rain"...Definitely not "Singin'"

 Hi there

I belong to 'Friends of Te Papa'. Te Papa Tongarewa is the Museum of New Zealand, situated in Wellington.  Yes, Wellington.  Surprise, surprise, it's one iconic landmark that didn't get snapped up by Auckland....Hooray. 

Anyway, I'd booked to go on a Te Papa Friends archeological walk around Wellington a couple of weeks ago but because of projected bad weather it got postponed until yesterday (Sunday) when the weather was really-really bad.  

It rained the whole time I was on the walk and only about ten of us showed up, the other registered walkers had deferred until next weekend.

We walked along the wharf-front looking at the huge over-a-hundred-year-old Hikitia sea crane that is the oldest working one in the world.  It cant get out to sea by itself; it's lost that capability, however this old girl can get towed to deep water to pick up would-be archaeological treasures.   

I must have passed this crane hundreds of times and never thought much about it.  Who would have guessed that down in the crane's belly was a whole area devoted to the conservation work of maritime archaeological discoveries dredged up from the sea floor. But owing to the fact that the deck hatches are rather small, big artifacts like anchors can't be fed through them because those small hatches are the only entrance to the room underneath.  So... found anchors are dumped in a cluster nearby - word of advice from me: don't swim, dive, or drunken-fall to the right side of the crane.

We walked down Willis Street, learning about the archeological stuff that had been found after the remains of "Plimmer's Ark" had been excavated at the bank arcade site, at the corner of Willis Street and Lambton Quay.  If you visit here during shop hours, there are artefacts on the basement floor.  The ship had been salvaged way back in the 1800s, and turned into a shop by Mr Plimmer, The huge 18-something-or-other Wellington earthquake had raised the land, putting paid to the shop's business.

Then, our little group tootled over to Queen's wharf and found out about how that wharf came about.  We looked at maps depicting how the area had been before and after the earthquake.

It was interesting to learn that during the earthquake every piece of crockery and glassware in every pioneer house had been smashed.  Enterprising crockery-sellers from, for instance, the Taranaki area, rushed down to Wellington to sell their wares.  Because there was so many household breakages after the quake, the city council asked everybody to put stuff outside their houses for collection by wheel-barrows.  It was to be used as ground filler.  And such great finds for future archaeologists.

above: outside Te Papa.  Circa Theatre is behind me.  You can't see it but the crane is to the right of Circa Theatre

above: walking along the wharf.  In the rain. Docked Bluebridge inter-island ferry at back.

We ended up at Government Buildings, my old stomping work ground, where I was surprised to discover there was a curb at the south side of the structure on which a true chain length could be measured...

Miramar

 Hi there

The weather forecast said it was going to be beautiful sunshine the entire day today.  Wow, I was going out to experience all that sun.  However, there was no sun -

above:  Inner harbour.  Photo taken from Miramar Wharf area.  The scenic seaside road leading around the Miramar Peninsula is directly to the right of photo.  It's a sort of loop.  The Chocolate Fish Cafe, an iconic place on the peninsula, is about a 10 minute peninsula-ride away by car. I think The Chocolate Fish is a Peter Jackson-owned place.  Scorch-a-Rama Cafe is on the other side of the peninsula at Scorching Bay, about 30 minutes away.  Walking takes, maybe an hour and a half to reach Worser Bay, and its another fifteen minute walk over the hill and back to Miramar.  Or keep walking past Worser Bay to get to Seatoun shops and transport. Take note that on much of the peninsula seaside road, there are no houses..

above:  same area but looking down towards the Airport runway and Cobham Drive.  Cobham Drive is named after a past Governor-General.  It was a time when all governors-general were sent to us from England for a certain number of years.  Now we always have a New Zealand governor-general.  The governor-general is the King's representative.

above  Miramar:   Main road leading out of Miramar, through the Miramar Cutting. On the left is Stone Street.  Stone Street Studios are where the 'Lord of the Rings", "King Kong" (and others)  were filmed.  There is a track leading up the hill above the studios and I traversed the hill whilst "King Kong" was being filmed - the outdoor scene that I saw was set around a fake lake, and obviously on The island.  At about the same  time, I also trekked up a very steep hill from the back of the Massey Memorial at the tip of the Miramar Peninsula and saw the cave set for King Kong.  When I had reached the top of the hill - puffing and panting -  I was immediately ordered back down again by the King Kong security people.

When I got home from today's wander, the sun came out.  I remember that one of the guys at Hataitai Beach used to call Jay and me "The Cloud Twins", because often when we arrived at the beach for a swim, it clouded over.

Is receiving mail in our letterboxes almost as dead as the dodo?

 

Hi there

I figure that any day now we will be throwing our letter boxes out onto the firewood pile.  Or tie them onto tree branches to be used as bird boxes.  Or use them as some weird version of table-top Beer Pong-

"Hey, come on mate, s'easy.  See those letter boxes on the table?  How many ping pong balls can you get through the slots.  Every winner gets to chug down a litre of Tui's finest..."

I say this about maiboxes being almost as dead as the dodo because I speak (write?) from the heart.  Take it from one who knows.-

I went for over two months without getting any mail and never even noticed.  

Before I went on holiday last February I trotted down to a post shop agent.  I filled out the post shop form, handed it over -

"I'd like you to hold my mail for 10 days please.  And here's my SuperGold Card so as I get the service for free..."

It was all done and dusted in a trice.  The guy at the counter checked my filled-in form, checked my SuperGold card (I had my photo on the card, so he knew I wasn't a fraudster pensioner).

I went on holiday, happy that there would be no mail spilling out from my letterbox on my return.

I got back on the day that all the mail was to be delivered.  There wasn't so much as a letter from a real estate agent wanting me to sell my house.  Goodness, I couldn't have had any mail whilst I was away...

And then ....  I forgot about NZ Post mail and letterboxes.  For two months. Oh yes, I even watched the postie on his bicycle ride past my window on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, my official delivery days.  

And I was actually getting some mail, all of which was delivered to my box by private courier.  But nothing, I repeat nothing from NZ Post.  Only I didn't realise this until last week when I received a  bundle of mail (14 letters), accompanied by a note from someone at the mail centre telling me that they had forgotten all about me, forgotten to re-start my mail delivery.  For more than two months my mail had been piling up in some NZ Post pigeon hole.

To be fair, the person who had made the mistake included a heartfelt handwritten note in with my mail.  They apologised profusely. 

I did have to spend an afternoon ringing up some businesses explaining the situation and the delay in my answering their mail.  Luckily only three pieces of mail out of the 14 envelopes held anything of real importance that I had to chase up on.

Looking back, it does mortify me that over a two and a half month period, I only received 14 pieces of mail.  My goodness, was I not popular?  No, but the whole episode did make me realise that our NZ Post dodo is most definitely on its last legs...