Arthur's and Shopping

Tomorrow morning the small talk with colleagues will inevitably revolve around the question, "Did you have a nice weekend?" By the time I am asked this, I will be so immersed in classroom preparation, workplans, photocopying, meeting agendas and the like that when put on the spot I will struggle to bring my mind back to the any of the delights of the weekend with sufficient speed to reply in any way coherently. But the answer deserves to be a resounding "Yes!". It was highly social, busy yet still relaxing and lots of fun.

Most of the sunny glory that was Saturday was spent in Wellington doing the shops, mainly in the 'Cuba Quarter' (as I see they call it for tourists, though I've never heard locals actually refer to it as such). At the top of Cuba Street I finally made it to Arthur's and it was as excellent as I hoped it would be. Very quirky decorating to enjoy from our table in the sun upstairs, views out over the bypass and friendly staff. The owner is very nice - how could she not be when you hear she has owned over 400 flying ducks?

I can heartily recommend the warehou on greens and mash.

Street theatre in the mall on the walk back was accompanied by very hypnotic drumming and I think may have had a recycling theme. The whole mall was vibrant and busy, and so many interesting shops to browse about in.

At a wee market in a corner bar I bought a Petone print from the artist. I just love the artist's style and use of colour. I have popped it in the frame but may get it done properly when my finances recover (there was an unplanned purchase of purple shoes, too).

Arriving back in Petone the weather was still perfect and the beach a picture.

Today passed in a pleasant whirl and so another weekend comes to a close. Hopefully this week will see the new fire installed, my house restored to dust-free order and ferociously cold weather will be on the horizon!

You're Welcome

Have you noticed the unseasonably warm weather we have been enjoying lately? Long sunny days and even when the rain has fallen the temperatures haven't. You have me to thank for this, and a well-researched scientific process known as Sod's Law. Three weeks ago I decided I could no longer live without a woodburner - an efficient heating system that warms both the body and the soul. The installer started the process straight away but really only got stuck into the proper work earlier in the week. We haven't seen him since Wednesday. The house is a bomb site and a layer of dust coats everything. All his tools of trade are littered around the house and garden. In the meantime, the spring flowers are bursting out all around and the shops are full of new season's fashions in lovely pastel shades. By the time I am warming my toes in front of the leaping flames the rest of the population will be barbecuing on the beach and marveling at such a benign winter that ended so soon. So do let them know it's all down to the universe playing its amusing tricks on me, and Millie and I will await the return of the installer ...

The Times They Keep A-Changing

Back in the days when Year 6 was called Standard 4, I was in a class with a teacher who taught the whole class the skills for reading very simple music and playing it on the recorder. To this day, I can still do a stirring rendition of The British Grenadiers upon request. It was always very exciting when Mr McKirdy passed out the latest piece of new music - not for musical reasons, but because it gave the opportunity for a little early substance abuse. Everyone would put the paper to their nose and breathe deeply to inhale the banda fluid fumes. When I became a teacher this was still the only way to produce class sets of any sort of document. It involved making a banda master which was run through the machine by turning the handle. It was a messy business from start to finish and you could always spot teachers in a crowd as they were the ones with ink from banda masters smudged on faces and hands. 

Other work was from a blackboard. By dipping the chalk in milk it was possible to create more enduring lines and labels, while everything else was rubbed off in a whirl of chalk dust, which coated anyone in close proximity. Washing down the blackboard was a weekly ritual.

And then times began to change. The photocopier replaced the banda machine and whiteboards replaced blackboards. I initially found whiteboards very challenging - they did not give the same resistance as chalk and the pens would whizz off in unexpected direction and, like the banda masters, often left their mark on my face. Then came computers and all the delights and challenges they provide.

In the holidays my classroom fast-forwarded technologically once again, this time to an interactive whiteboard. Anything on the computer can be projected. It replaces a CD or DVD player, it performs what might have once been the tasks of an OHP. E-books can be shared with the whole class. When functioning in whiteboard mode it comes with all sorts of bells and whistles - and it uses electronic pens. Teaching really has become a whole lot less messy. The children are finding it all very engaging and already navigate the menu choices with ease. They live in exciting times - but they never will know the delight of that first deep inhale from paper fresh off the banda.

Imagine how much more pleasing this would sound on my sturdy old recorder - remember, you just have to ask!

Desperate Times ...

... call for desperate measures. The theory is that in the mornings the radio alarm clock goes off at six o'clock, I listen to the news and then leap out of bed to enjoy the new day. For some reason this just isn't happening - well, not the leaping out of bed part. No matter how strong my resolve and how early my bedtime the night before, I just cannot make myself actually get up. The dulcet tones of Marcus Lush (or cousin Marcus as we like to call him in our family) on Radio Live just make me want to stay curled up in bed and often I fall back to sleep. The morning then becomes a race. A new system has been put in place for tomorrow. Hello Kitty has been placed on the other side of the bedroom. Her shrill alarm is set for ten minutes past six. There is no way I can sleep or pleasantly snooze through this alarm. I anticipate a leisurely shower and time for at least two cups of tea in the morning - we shall see.

Return to Topic

In January, I posted twice about the artworks springing up on those metal boxes around the Hutt, but was unsure as to the actual name for them. I now know they are called Chorus Cabinets. I think Chorus are an offshoot of Telecom, but being a TelstraClear customer have taken little interest in the finer details. Anyway, I was planning on collecting as many pics of these as I could, so here is number three which I collected on a visit to Stokes Vegas yesterday.

Since I am keen to practise my skills at inserting hyperlinks, the links to the other two posts are

here and here.

Rampant Stupidity

We all make the odd error in haste now and then. This I can understand, but when making a sign for display purposes you would think a little more care would be taken. You would suppose somebody on the staff might be identified as the least lacking in basic skills and therefore be nominated to check. It's not just spelling and punctuation. This evening, Countdown employed the services of Masterchef Brett to explain the variety and preparation of the 'punkins' available. Lucky he doesn't work here ...

Of course, it could be that a certain Petone restaurant is actually employing the same cunning scheme as the peerless Arkwright in 'Open All Hours'.

Two Days, Three Movies

A friend stayed for a couple of nights this weekend. As an out of towner from the provinces she was quite naturally charmed by all that Petone offers - and the weather really sorted itself out, too. Included in the schedule were three movies at The Lighthouse.

The Well-Digger's Daughter - light, charming and entertaining.

 The Door - a little dark, some obvious dubbing but strangely compelling.

The clear pick of the three - A Royal Affair. The Danish royals would appear to be just as crazed, bloody and intriguing as the British royals at their best. Historically fairly accurate by all accounts and definitely makes you re-think the whole 'wonderful, wonderful Copehagen' spin.

We managed to fit in quite a bit of eating and shopping, too. And so we come to the mid-point of the holidays. Still so much to achieve.

Moving Day and Memories Re-visited

I have been in Petone for eighteen happy months now. The move itself was reasonably easy from the Stokes Valley end as I paid an awful lot of money to have professionals pack everything up. It took two very busy chappies a full two days to complete the task. The Petone end of the operation was ghastly. It took the help of two good friends and days and days to open all the boxes and unwrap the layers upon layers of paper around each object. To the untrained eye the house has looked reasonably sorted ever since - unless you opened the spare bedroom wardrobe. It was stacked to the brim with unsorted boxes and various junk that had no home. Finally today a start has been made on remedying this situation.

 There are many things I could easily put my hand on in Stokes Valley that I still have to search high and low for in this house. But if anyone now urgently needs a slide rule - just ask. 

The world's largest collection of 1960s and 1970s Easter egg aluminium foil in a charming chocolate box is available for viewing upon request. 

Sadly, in excess of fifty flying ducks continue to wait patiently for their time to fly once more.

But that will be a task for another day.

Briscoes - I'm Sorry

Yesterday I had this kettle. It was less than two years old, I know that for sure because I got it in a lunch hour soon after I changed schools - I have just finished my second full year of teaching there, for which I still can't believe my good fortune - and paid more than I wanted to, but felt going for stainless steel over plastic would be a wise choice.

It wasn't a wise choice, apart from the whole plastic contamination health aspect. Today I visited several electric stores for a replacement after the Breville packed it in. I have always been a strong critic of Briscoes and their so-called sales, being of the opinion they hike the prices for the legally required time-frame in order to then slash the prices in a 'sale' to match the regular prices of other retailers. With this in mind I excluded them from my list of retailers. The prices for kettles at these other outlets were far more than my humble budget had allowed, so in desperation I called into Briscoes on the way home. For a great deal less than at Harvey Norman, Smith City or L V Martin, I now have this jazzy little kettle.

I could have bought the identical Breville again for an excellent price too, but Breville's glory days as the 70s manufacturer of the famous toastie pie maker are obviously well gone and I will avoid the brand in the future. 

So, Briscoes, I'm sorry - maybe your business practices aren't as shonky as I may have believed. I may even scan your weekly junk mail drops with a modicum of interest in the future.