Peaceful

Every Wednesday, on the first of my weekly working from home days, Bristol and I head out around the waterfront for a run. It's always carefully timed to avoid the office hoardes that engulf the route between noon and 2.00pm, unravelling the serenity with their too-bright lycra and four-abreast approach.      

And even though the Hound can't go off-leash, he loves these jaunts, stopping far too often to sniff the pavement, pee on lamp-posts and scold seagulls, innocent bystanders who irritate him beyond all reason.

Today we ran in full sunshine, the rain of the last few days having gone to bother someone else. And as Bristol squinted and I thanked the inventor of sunglasses, we passed a couple of old fellas fishing off the side of the promenade. Nothing unusual about that - there were at least half a dozen blokes doing the same - but these two chaps were dressed in a manner more suited to the cafes of Milan or Paris: well-pressed pants, crisp white shirts, highly-polished shoes and one, bless his heart, even had a cravat thingy around his neck. And while they waited for fish to nibble their lines, or do whatever it is fish with a death wish do, they played chess on an old wooden board spread on the seat between them.

As we passed them, they smiled at me and paid their respects to the Hound. What struck me was not so much their slightly incongruous outfits but how peaceful and comfortable they looked. Like they knew the secret to the universe and it amused them no end. It was charming and glorious in equal measure.

Perhaps I'm getting soft, but in that moment, I wished some of the old boys' serenity, their knowledge of their place in the world, could be transferred, osmosis like, to me. And no, I haven't been drinking; quite the opposite actually, as my January detox is going gangbusters and I remain an alcohol-free zone. Yeah, I know...

(Pic credit: Google Images)

            

No Pants on the Subway Day

From New York to Shanghai, Mexico to Stockholm, yesterday tens of thousands of folk in 25 countries around the planet dropped their drawers as part of No Pants on the Subway Day (click here).

It's the 13th year the event, which is designed to "bring chaos and joy" to public places, has taken place. The rules are simple: random passengers board a subway car at separate stops in the middle of winter without pants. Winter coats, hats, scarves and gloves are permissible but pants need to be left at home.

Apparently the only notable thing about this year's event was the number of frayed and huckery old undies on display. Proof that economies everywhere continue to devour themselves.

But hey, it made this old girl laugh and that's never a bad thing.  

(Pic credit: The Guardian)

V Day

It's exactly one month until the day when people with no imagination get to express their love to their nearest and dearest. But magazine lead-in times being what they are, the February issue of NEXT is out today and features my story on three couples who found love in unusual places (click here to read).

Barf bags at the ready (kidding). It turns out most people aren't cynical old hags for whom Valentine's Day holds as much appeal as televised chess. Who knew....

Seriously though, the three couples I interviewed were kick-arse folk and had genuinely cool yarns to tell. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it...

This Summer's job

So the back garden was in need of a hot date with a landscaper.

Instead, it got the Animator.

I jest, of course: the boy has done wonders, moving a shed and levelling earth that spun a bloody good line in resistance. There were numerous trips to the garden centre, much huffing and hauling of pavers up stairs, the grouting of flagstones and other mysterious boy things.

All we need now is a barbie and we are sorted. If I told you how much I heart this space, the garden would, I fear, issue a restraining order.

Action shot:

Check out his trusty apprentice:

 

        

Woop Woop!!

The INCREDIBLE feature film that the Animator worked on (and the reason for our 14-month detour to the UK in 2010/11) has been nominated for an Oscar for Best Animated Feature Film (click here). 

Huge props to all the talented and wonderful folk who worked on it. Now fingers crossed the judging panel is wearing its sensible cloak and appreciates just how kick arse this film is...

A Friday Drive

If you find yourself in possession of a day off, rising mercury and a desire to fossick in second hand stores, you could do worse than to head over to the Wairarapa, a rural-ish settlement about an hour north of Welly.

Earlier this week, the clever Animator won an auction for three vintage wooden rulers on Trade Me (NZ's lame version of Ebay). Seeing as we both had today off, we schlepped over the hill to pick them up. It would have been rude not to check out the plethora of vintage stores along the way, and have very average veggie nachos in an old Masonic lodge that the waiter (who insisted on calling us 'Bro' at every possible opportunity) reckoned was haunted by a woman named Mary.

But it was worth it, because the rulers look pretty spiffing in their new home.

The Killing

It's a little surreal to sit in your living room, wearing shorts while the sun blazes outside, watching a drama about a murder in a cold, grey Danish landscape.

But years after the rest of the world twigged to the brilliance of The Killing, a series set in wintery Copenhagen - and British colleagues, and The Guardian, repeatedly referred to it in awed tones - I have finally rented the first season and for the last three nights the Animator and I have been having ourselves a sunlight-free marathon, wolfing down episode after episode of this riveting crime drama.

And oh the tension, the bombshells, the puzzles, the investigative cul-de-sacs and clues that lead nowhere. I am hooked. It's also fun to play the "We've been there" game, spotting locations we visited on our trip to Copenhagen a few years back.

The only thing I won't be converting to is Sarah Lund's nasty Faroese jumpers; come winter and I will NOT be rocking one of those. Fact.