Plane passengers

 Hi there.

On Friday night, I flew back from Australia.  I was sitting in my aisle seat, minding my own business, half asleep, when this guy in the seat in front of me leapt up.  

He was a broad man, elderly, with a bushy white beard. He looked like Father Christmas -

"Stop kicking my seat," he thundered down  at me.

Whaaat???

"I'm... I'm not kicking your seat.". (Me, timidly.)

" You are!  Stop it!  (Him, still thundering.)

"I would never kick anybody's seat," I said.

With one last glare, the guy stomped off to the front of the plane.

Again, Whaaat????

Of course, everyone sitting in the vicinity perked up.  Here was some excitement to cut out the boredom of long distance flying. 

I just wish I could have come back with some pithy retort, but I had turned into a deer in front of headlights sort of person.  I sat there, mortified.

About five minutes later, the guy returned.  He leaned down to me. I stared straight ahead at the tv screen that I'd never turned on.

"I want to apo!ogise," he said.

And yet again, Whaaaat???

"I understand now that it was turbulence.  I'm sorry -"

Talk about theatrics of the air...

I'm back from Australia

Hi there

I returned yesterday from a week in Melbourne.  At 10 pm, the night before I left I couldn't find my mobile phone and I was due to leave the house at 4 am the next morning. 

I had to leave without my phone.  I never realised before how many times it would be necessary to have a phone when on holiday.  Several times a day in Melbourne, I was told that a firm, business, hotel, shop, restaurant, airline would ring me soon, and please could they have my number?  I was so stressed.

I saw the stage show "Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Reimagined".  I'd seen "Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Parts 1 and 2" before in Melbourne.  Twice.  Because of covid, the show had been cut down from playing over two nights, to one night.  I wanted to see if the show still could be understood after cutting out about three hours.  Yes, it flowed fairly smoothly.  There were a couple of little info dumps but I guess that's understandable.  All the magic trickery was still there.

I also saw "Hairspray - the musical".  This show has sort of followed me around the world over the years.  I often ended up in cities where it was playing - dating back to New York in the year 2000 - but I never really cared about seeing it.  

The show was a nice part of my Melbourne holiday.  More modern shows have great CGI effects and I sort of missed that with "Hairspray".

I went to the Queen Victoria Night (food) Market, the QV day market, and the casino where I spent $5 on a poker machine and won back $6.60.  I also visited Conservatory buffet where I scoffed down 8 oysters on the shell.  

I took the tram to St Kilda, walked the beach and bought a couple of really gorgeous cakes at the famous street of cake shops which used to have about fifteen cake shops, all running side by side but now - unfortunately since covid - has only two such shops in the street.

I love to walk along South Bank, between the river and all those fancy-schmancy restaurants, reading the menus.  The weird thing is that I suddenly craved good old-fashioned fish and chips whilst I was in Melbourne,.  Couldn't find a place anywhere in the CBD that sold them, not that there arent thousands of other restaurants and cafes, selling all sorts of international food, to pick from.

 And talking about fashion.  It was Melbourne Fashion Week.  A couple of times I passed venues where the fashionista were gathering for parades and whatever, with the paparazzi outside and the elite of Melbourne clustered around the doors.  I even saw the most gorgeous male models posing for a fashion photographer outside the most grungiest building, in amongst graffiti walls, empty crates, dirty pavements, boarded windows.  It was behind Victoria Market.

Over two days, I was confined to David Jones/Myers/The Emporium Mall/Central Mall, all places that were joined together and I could escape the serious rain.  The state of Victoria was suddenly in the midst of serious and sad flooding.  I'd only taken one pair of shoes with me and I did every shuffle step imaginable to escape the deep puddles, and the rain.

Because I didn't have my phone, I couldnt take any photos.  Curses!  

I found my phone under the sofa today, hooray...  But not before I'd done a lot of cancelling at Vodafone.

 

Dux Students

 Hi there

Does a school still recognise a Dux student, I wonder?  The Dux award is given to the best student for the year.

My father got a Dux medal way back in about 1913.  It was gold.

After my father passed away, I wore the medal on a chain for many years.  Then I gifted the medal to the local museum in the New Zealand town where he went to school.

Here's the medal -

No, I'm sorry I didn't follow him, with all that school intelligence.  I was terrible at maths and (probably) more about that in some later blog.

Carpet layers coming

 Hi there

I've been all a-flutter the last couple of days, moving furniture before the carpet layers arrive.  Oooh, I'm getting new carpet, yippee!   There's nothing as lovely as scrunching bare tootsies into beautiful warm fluffy carpet as you hop out of bed.

So, I've been cramming furniture into back rooms away from their original places, as per the carpet layer's instructions.  By tomorrow those back rooms will look like a hoarder's paradise and I'll be clambering over cabinets and drawers, and rubbish bags full of clothes and CDs, and cushions, and drawers. My wardrobe doors will be blocked, and other doors too.  How will I get to the loo?

I've uncovered what surely has to be years of accumulated dust, and found $1.20 in loose change down the sides of the sofa. I discovered  17 plastic supermarket shopping bags stuffed behind a hall table,  two parasol-like umbrellas that haven't been opened since the 1960s, and does a woman really need so many backpacks and purses?

None of the books in the lounge bookcase have been read in, at least, ten years so why on earth am I keeping them?  

The advance guard for the carpet layers informed me that compared to others, I don't have much clutter.  Huh?  What was he talking about?  I have ornaments, for goodness sake!  And bags of clothes.  And shoes.  And swimming paraphenalia.  And too many photos of my late cat, StarGirl.

And I also have hayfever...  Curse you, household dust.  And curses especially go out to my vacuum cleaner because when I emptied it today, sprays of fluff and dust sprayed up into my face, like Ruapehu suddenly erupting...

Those eyedrops

 Hi there

I'm still on my eyedrops, 10 a day for at least two more months.  The dosage has dropped from 12 a day and before that, 15. 

When I was told I couldn't stop them, I wanted to do a Billy Elliot angry dance. But... I can't dance.

 So, instead I ransacked the cupboard for anything chocolate because chocolate is, of course, angry food.  When I am so toddler-tantrum angry I crave chocolate.  

I couldn't find chocolate anywhere, not even when I climbed up a step-stool to the top shelf of my pantry where I usually hide the Crunchie Bars.

All I could find was a bag of marshmallows.  Marshmallows?  Come on now, marshmallows are not angry food.  Marshmallows are for sitting in a field of daisies in a long chiffon dress, and patting a unicorn ....

 

So Sad

 Hi there

How truly sad that our queen has passed away,  One of her official titles is, of course, 'Queen of New Zealand'.  I remember as a child going with my entire school to see her coronation on the screen at the Majestic Theatre in Wellington. 

On the day of the coronation we heard that our Sir Edmund Hilary  had been the first to conquer Mt Everest.  I still remember bits of the song about Hilary's feat:

Now you're done it

Reached the summit

Three cheers for the red, white, and blue

Today, we have Charles as our king.   When he came to Wellington a few years ago, I wandered down the road to Weta Workshop with the hope that I would see him. There were only a dozen or so of us waiting outside.  Charles came over to me and reached out his hand.  I hurriedly brought my hands out from my hoodie pockets, and we had a handshake. Goodness, I've just realised: I've shaken hands with our reigning monarch, King Charles III...

Superstitions our mothers told us

 Hi there

I've been wondering about how long superstitions last in our generational memories. Our parents passed down to us superstitions recognised by their parents and grandparents.  Usually, in our modern day times, however, we laugh about such things.   "Goodness," we chortle, "we don't care if we accidentally break a mirror.  Psssh, who truly believes that there'll be seven years' bad luck ...?"

Or how about walking under a ladder?  True believers do think the action is going to bring bad luck.  I must admit that when I see a ladder I do veer away from it.  "It's sensible," I tell myself. "A bucket of paint might drop on my head."  

However if I do happen to accidentally walk under that ladder I cross my fingers, just as a safety precaution.

 My grandmother told me that I must never bring lilies or peacock feathers into a house, or I would hear of a death.  Same hear-of-a-death-thing if a bunch of flies continually hover around a person, or a bird flies inside the house (pick your bird - different countries' superstitions allocate different birds).   Crossed knives bring bad luck too, a hard thing to avoid as practically every time I do the dishes in the sink, there are crossed knives everywhere.  I retaliate by (again) crossing my fingers!

 When I rush out of the house, slamming the door behind me, I often suddenly think, "Oh, dash-it, I've forgotten my sunglasses (or wallet, or SuperGold Card, or whatever)."  But I hesitate about turning around to go back inside.

"It's unlucky to return for something," my grandmother told me.  "If you do - once you get inside - you must sit down (another version is turn around three times).  

The weird thing is, I do sit down for an instant.  I gave up turning around three times a long time ago; it makes you a bit dizzy when running back out the door with your sunglasses.

I saw the most beautiful sundress in a Taupo shop last summer.  My heart yearned for it. All those wonderful colours, swirls of peacock feathers patterned throughout the style.

I stood looking at that dress for a long time.  In the end I sorrowfully turned away.  I mean, I couldn't wear those unlucky peacock feathers.  Grandma would be so displeased...