Thursday, April 25, 2013


Cyclists these days are very big about their rights. Apparently we aren't according them the respect they deserve on the roads. We don't give them enough room. They want to ride in a three metre wide bubble of protection.

I find this interesting, because at intersections they are happy to burst that bubble and swoop between stationary traffic in order to push their way to the front of the queue, ready to wobble off at the green light and hold up all the other road users. Of course, they are not always traffic - they happily morph into pedestrians at the sight of a zebra crossing. 

As an almost daily walker on the Hutt river trail, this is where I find them the most irritating of all. In a variety of Australian cities, I have shared walkways with cyclists who are unfailingly thoughtful. A cheery 'ting ting' signals their approach and they pass without incident. Here they approach at speed, overtake closely and without warning, and routinely scare the life out of me. Would it be so hard to purchase and use a bell?

It goes on the handlebars!

Family fun out mowing down walkers.
So try paying it forward, cyclists, and maybe you'll get more respect on the road. And while we're about it - lose the bike shorts with the butt implants, you look ridiculous!


I saw this excellent movie today. It had both Philip Seymour Hoffman and Christopher Walken in it - two of my favourite actors. It was originally titled A Late Quartet, but was re-titled to avoid confusion with that lamentable movie Quartet that I reviewed some time ago.

See it if you can. I really need to get moving on a few more movies while I have the opportunity. Possibly First Position, Barbara or Rust and Bone - starting tomorrow.

In the meantime, I can't think about Christopher Walken without a huge need for a fix of cowbells.

Saturday, April 13, 2013

I Was There

We've had a very long relationship. I was there when Martha Longhurst slumped over her milk and stout.

I was there when Emily Nugent was jilted at the alter by Leonard Swindley.

I was there when Valerie Barlow had an unfortunate time with her hairdryer.

I took a shine to Minnie Cauldwell's lodger, Jedd Stone.

But back then, my heart really belonged to Jerry Booth.

So, after all those years of loyal viewing, the stage show was a definite 'must see'.

And what a brilliantly conceived and executed show it was. William Roache and a very talented team paid a comprehensive and hilarious tribute to the street's history. An excellent night out, see if it if you can.

Saturday, April 6, 2013


Both the country and my blog have been in the grip of drought. While the summer continues to hog autumn's time, at least I can remedy to situation here. It really has been a lovely long summer, but the garden is really starting to suffer and I fear the trees won't have the where-with-all to muster a good autumn display if we don't get some significant rain soon. The mornings are becoming pleasingly crisp, and that glorious extra hour tomorrow morning will be very welcome.

Pay back time - an extra hour's snooze. Bliss!
The last month has raced away. I will attempt a brief recap, though life has pottered on with very little out of my pleasant routine. For the first time in ages I finished a book. Surprisingly I really enjoyed it, which I didn't expect as I'm not in the least into science fiction.

Polished it off in a couple of days.
I saw this movie, and surprisingly didn't enjoy it. How did the director take such a great classic piece of literature and take all the depth and emotion out of it? By being just too clever. An oscar for costuming does not make a movie into a cracking yarn.

If she hadn't jumped, I'm sure a lot of us would have been happy to give her a push.

By stark comparison, this moving story needed little in set and costume to tell a much more emotionally connecting love story.

Note to self - don't get old.

In other news... I have started a new collection, which I think will nicely complement the flying ducks, be very appropriate for the age of the house and generally just look kitschy and wonderful. 

Number one of how many to come?

And finally, for this drought breaker ... the theme for winter food this year will be - By Crockpot. Please note, this is a vintage, proper crockpot, hauled home from Sydney in the eighties, when shopping in New Zealand was a similar experience to East Germany at the time. Even felt tip pens had to be sourced from Oz while we were gripped by monetary and import strangleholds. Don't be fooled, those 'slow cookers' that are currently in vogue are not the real thing at all.