Happy Anniversary, Wellington

Today was a public holiday to commemorate the anniversary of the glorious city we live in.

It started with a three hour walk with the doggie walking group at the Polhill Reserve Loop.
Lots of fun for the two and four legged participants.

I raced home for a 2.00pm magazine interview with the amazing woman behind Beer Belly Jellies, delicious savoury jellies made with good old Welly craft beer. And then scoffed her jellies, cheese and home-made beer lavash (!) as though I was in the shadow of a famine. And this from someone who doesn't really like beer.

  
We finished the day with a 6.2 quake. An unwanted reminder that we live atop one of the world's twitchiest fault-lines. Or maybe it was just the earth sending its anniversary wishes...

"I was scary"

On Friday morning, before the 6.6 quake hit, my lovely hairdresser and I were discussing the previous month's jolt.

Although Raymond, who has been putting up with me and my chemically tortured follicles for years, emigrated to NZ from Hong Kong about 28 years ago, he still has the odd issue with the English language. He was telling me how, on that Sunday afternoon back in July, his two kids and Japanese wife ducked under their dining room table and refused to come out for an hour afterwards.

"I was scary," he repeatedly told me.

This weekend, Raymond, we've all felt a bit scary.

The aftershocks continue apace, including a 5.0 jolt at 4am today which awoke us and prompted Bristol to do the run-up-and-down-the-stairs-barking-like-a-lunatic trick. I do believe he is as over it as we are.

Here's to a rumble free week....

(Pic credit: Google Images) 

          

Holy S*&t!!!

The day started with the final inspection of our rental property and the signing of hundreds of pieces of paper with our departing tenants; there was some cleaning while I waited for the carpet guy to turn up. Then a few hours in the hairdressers chair with gunk on my head.

And the creeping dread that I had left the oven on in the rental. The carpet cleaner was, of course, long gone so I high-tailed it home and hurriedly drove up to Thorndon. At 2.31pm I was sat at the lights outside the Supreme Court in downtown Wellington when the car started to move. Thinking I had my foot down on the brake too hard I eased it off and moved forward a bit. But still the car shook. Bristol, sitting patiently in the passenger seat, started to bark and then the road turned into a wave and I honestly thought the car was going to flip over. Some screaming may have been involved, there was certainly some swearing and my hands didn't stop shaking for some time afterwards.

Later, there was much texting and visiting of friends and neighbours to ensure everyone was okay, especially those who live alone. It's true that a crisis brings everyone together but holy mother of God I could have done without that jolt, and the continual parade of aftershocks.    

Would someone please give Welly a jumbo packet of Tums to calm her down...

(Pic credit: GNS)