Wednesday, 29 February 2012
Goodbye to one of the dearest objects I own
Tuesday, 28 February 2012
Tonight, I did the unheard of and hosted THREE rugrats (that is not a typo) who are hoping to get a dog of a similar breed to Bristol so wanted to make his acquaintance.
Despite my misgivings, it went swimmingly well and Bristol, of course, adored the fawning attention.
I do, however, have three questions:
1) Why do kids do that high pitch squealy thing? And with such regularity? Bristol and I are now both functionally deaf, as is my neighbour four doors down.
2)Why do kids ask so many questions? I have no idea how the jellyfish got into the glass dome on my coffee table and nor do I care. Please ask someone else.
3) Is it strictly necessary to touch every item in my house? We have a LOT of breakables, most of which have been carefully shipped 12,000 miles. I will, therefore, be extremely cross if they are broken by some butter-fingered eight-year-old. Believe me, you wouldn’t like me when I am cross.
Thankfully, there was minimal damage to dog and house (perforated ear-drums aside) and friends assure me I will go to heaven for this. And, before you clog my in-box with hate mail, a simple reminder: it is 2012 not 1953. Contraception has been invented, women are allowed careers, not wanting to breed is a valid option and everyone is entitled to choose how they wish to live. You might dislike brussel sprouts, whereas I love them; you might wish to spend every spare minute sailing but I get seasick. You know where I'm going with this, right: you worship at the altar of children, me, notsomuch.
Now please excuse me while I go lie down in a darkened room and await for this ringing in my ears to subside.
(Pic credit: Google Images)
Monday, 27 February 2012
And the Oscar goes to...
Sunday, 26 February 2012
Saturday, 25 February 2012
How cool is this presidente?
Friday, 24 February 2012
It also represents networking to the power of 11.
Made some good contacts and gossiped until my tongue hurt. Also ate haloumi and oodles of cherry tomatoes at this stunningly good Welly cafe.
Tonight my gorgy friend Michael is coming over to eat fish and chips, drink wine and watch Glee. My perfect Friday night.
(Pic credit: Nikau Cafe)
Thursday, 23 February 2012
When Irish eyes are smiling
Monday, 20 February 2012
Sunday, 19 February 2012
In the neighbourhood...
Saturday, 18 February 2012
Like musical catnip
Friday, 17 February 2012
Not your usual Friday night
Thursday, 16 February 2012
A blast from the past
Summer isn't, thankfully, done with us yet. But the sun isn't exactly ripping off its drawers first thing in the morning.
So for today's walk to work, I reached for a cotton jacket I haven't worn for the longest time. Halfway down Pirie Street I put my hands in the pocket and what did I find? This shopping list from the UK. I know it's from my Bristol Sainsbury days, because those divine Belvita fig breakfast biscuits I was dangerously addicted to have yet to make it here.
Yes, it's only a scrunched up old post-it note but my God, it stopped me in my tracks. I've said it before, moving countries is not as simple as collecting airmiles and padding the bank account of shipping companies.
I've slotted back into NZ more easily than I thought. But then something like this happens and I'm reminded that this time last year my life looked and felt very, very different.
Made me feel a bit odd all day.
Wednesday, 15 February 2012
Tuesday, 14 February 2012
How do you know you are loved?
Given my general dislike of Valentine’s Day (and last year’s anti-VDay effort), I thought this time around I should adopt a different approach.
So, about a week ago, I had a conversation with the Animator that went something like this:
Me: “Are we doing anything for Valentine’s?”
Him: “I think there’s a new telly programme starting on Tuesday. Can’t miss that.”
He sure knows how to show a girl a good time, that one.
BUT I can forgive a man anything if he builds me a wardrobe to house my indecently large collection of coats. And this past weekend, the Animator put in a MASSIVE effort to get the job done.
Building this wardrobe is, for me, the romantic equivalent of winning Lotto. I am, in case you hadn't noticed, a woman who expends far too much money, energy and time amassing garments (some people collect stamps, I prefer clothes), and it’s a huge relief to be able to finally liberate my coats from their overcrowded space.
And although we agreed not to, the naughty boy also bought me some flowers (Christmas lillies, my favourite) and chocolates. Then there was my best Valentine's present EVER:
Monday, 13 February 2012
An open letter to my suburb
Dear Mt Victoria,
You used to be my least favourite Wellington suburb.
Overpriced, over-rated and a bit up your own arse, I always thought. And, let's be honest, you can sometimes be a bit of a douche, boasting about your all-day sun, promixity to town and your 'hipness'. Not to mention your, um, over abundance of wankers.
The Animator was always a fan but I was more a Thorndon/Kelburn girl. Fortunately, he wore me down. Well, that and the rather lovely 1890s two-storey villa in the Avenue of Love, which finally melted my displeasure at one of the Capital's oldest suburbs.
And now, Mt Vic, I heart you. Totally. I've never lived somewhere where the washing dries so quickly, where you can eat dinner outside in the blazing sun at 8.00pm, where the killer Wellington southerly can have no impact, whatsoever. And how do I even begin to express the joy of being able to walk to work in 15 minutes, to the movies, dinner or the library? And, here's the kicker, to run home, take Bristol for a walk, run back to work and shower – all in a lunch-hour.
You're also one of the friendliest places I've ever laid my hat – tonight, for example, I took Bristol for his usual trot into the Town Belt, a jaunt that should take 20 minutes, tops. But by the time I had run into my friend Jo with her dog and child, my friend Pamela with her canine, an American chap and his puppy, our dog groomer and her two woofers and a couple of other randoms who wanted to pet Bristol, the better part of an hour had been swallowed.
Thank you, Mt Victoria, for being part of our story. I can't promise you that these itchy feet won't carry me to other parts near or far at some stage, but for now, I'm overjoyed to be able to nestle into your inner-city bosom.
Sunday, 12 February 2012
Houston, we have a problem...
Saturday, 11 February 2012
Me llamo Shazzy
This morning we dragged our tired arses out of bed at a hour on a Saturday that should be illegal.
But it was worth it, because the first of our eight week Spanish class was esto fue tan divertido. Most of the 15 attendees were there to prep for travels to Central and Latin America, although one woman admitted she needed it for her work with Colombian refugees (who knew there were so many in Wellington?)
We started with basic pronunciation, tyring to encode in our mental hard-drives the various vowel/consonant rules, before moving onto grammar and that tricky little beast, possession. Then it was time to pair up (I, of course, got stuck with the Animator) to wrap our tongues around saludos (greetings) and quiz each other on such burning issues as, De que colour es tu chaqueta? Black, since you ask.
I've had a linguistic crush on Espanol ever since I set foot in Madrid a few decades ago and it's about time I finally learnt how to string more than a sentence or two together. I'm off now to do my homework; feel free to talk amongst yourselves.
Friday, 10 February 2012
Because I'm worth it...
After four months of intense renovations (as yet unfinished), I'm not exactly tap dancing on my bank account.
However I've been working pretty hard lately so decided it was time to take, for a change. While on the way home, I popped into a small consignment clothing store where the lovely owner is selling some items on my behalf. I was heartened by news that she had indeed sold some pieces when the purple number below caught my eye. A brand new Stella McCartney (with the tags still attached). I think the angels were singing for me today.
The Minister of Finance (aka the Animator) may not be best pleased about this latest addition to my already bulging wardrobe(s), but leave him to me...
Thursday, 9 February 2012
Laugh? I almost spat my merlot across the room
Tuesday, 7 February 2012
Thank you, universe
- Two travel and two lifestyle magazine commissions fetched up in my inbox. Including a profile of my lovely mate Mary, a photographer/poet/PR chick whose stunning new book of photos on NZ is published later this year (commissioned by this national magazine)
- The discovery of cheap flights to San Francisco, just about the time we're planning to fly
- The further discovery of a Spanish course near us that runs Saturday morning classes
- The news that a mate from London is back in town (or will be shortly), and
- The even more welcome news that our flight to Auckland tomorrow for yet another roadshow has been put back, meaning this little girly gets to have the tiniest of sleep-ins.
Monday, 6 February 2012
Happy Birthday, New Zealand (and ta very much for the day off!)
Here's how I commemorated the signing of Aotearoa's founding document:
With 10,000 cups of green tea (yes Anna, that BBC cup I bought when we both worked there is still operable)
Sunday, 5 February 2012
How to spend Sunday morning at the beach
Saturday, 4 February 2012
Thank God for bank holidays
Slight headache from too much red wine last night and, despite looking down the back of the sofa, I still can't locate my energy. The huge work week seems to have forgotten to return it.
On the plus side, I have just had the best news in ages – we are going to swap houses with our friends in San Francisco for two weeks in June-ish! Which means we get to see the divine Ms Molly again. I miss that wee doggy so much my teeth ache and, given that she is 15 soon, it may well be the last time we see her. Of course, I also get to spend time in one of my favourite cities on the planet and, just quietly, shop here and here.
I cannot describe to you the ways in which today's news has made my spirits soar...