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.

Thoughts While Cleaning

I'm not sure what the purpose of the Social Studies curriculum was supposed to be in the 1960s, but for me it was reinforcing of every ethnocentric instinct that lay lurking. I was inordinately glad not to have been born Japanese as I was told the key cultural aspects of life involved the family bathing all together in very hot tubs and living in paper houses where they ate and slept on the floor. The English spent a lot of time dancing around poles holding coloured ribbons or with bottle tops attached to their legs, and for some reason could only buy pegs from gypsies who knocked at the door. I knew for sure that wooden shoes would not be a comfortable choice no matter how lovely the tulips were in Holland. Handling a knife and fork was quite enough to co-ordinate for me, so I was very glad not to have to scoop food up with chopsticks like the poor Chinese children. Worst of all seemed to be the unfortunate Masai people, who expected not just milk from their cows but an on-going blood supply as well, all mixed together into a ghastly drink. The French ate frogs and snails - disgusting, but also had strange plumbing. Apparently, according to the teacher, their baths and basins had levers to raise and lower the plugs. He tried to make it sound quite sophisticated, but I thought it sounded unnecessarily complicated even then.

Fast-forward forty-plus years, and suddenly in nice, sane, normal New Zealand these pop-up plugs have become the latest thing. I put in a new bathroom at my previous house and one was installed in the basin. It lasted a day before I asked for it to be swapped back to a proper removable plug fitting. Now in Petone, I have the misfortune to have one again. It restricts the flow of water from the basin and impedes cleaning. I think its removal will go on the holiday 'to do' list. It didn't make sense in the sixties and it doesn't make sense now.

(I now sponsor a Masai child through Childfund, and still give a little shudder when I think of her family's cows.)

Yee-ha!

Sixteen precious sleep-ins to savour. Even a Professional Development day on Monday has a nine o'clock start meaning setting off much later (in daylight!) and promises to be entertaining on several different levels. Then what adventures will unfold as the holidays properly begin? 

A Comfortable Day

Today was Wacky Wednesday at school. This was a fun day that was a celebration for our coming feast day for the school and a fund-raiser for a worthy cause. Everyone, children and teachers alike, could come in any form of 'wackiness'. There was a huge and joyful range of weird and wonderful attire. I wasn't the only one to arrive in my jim jams and dressing gown. While this is a wacky choice for a school day, it's the sign of a day well spent if it occurs at a weekend. It really is the most comfortable way dress - may wacky days become a regular event!

At previous schools I've taught at, in reasonably affluent areas, there have been occasional dress up days for a good cause. It has always amazed me that an event requiring a gold coin donation raised so little at these schools - with children demanding change if their gold coin was $2 instead of $1, or often completely ignoring the charitable purpose. I feel so glad to now teach at a school where thinking about others is at the core of the school values, and children recognise and are thankful for life's blessings. An impressive amount of money was collected for a deserving cause and a great day was had by all.

Of Tunnels

I needed to make a trip to Seatoun this afternoon.Foolishly I decided to take the quicker route through the by-pass rather than the more scenic waterfront. This turned out to be a stop-start congested drive peppered with red lights. However, I was listening to an interesting radio programme celebrating the music of Paul McCartney (post-Beatles) and was in no particular hurry, so not a problem. Now there has been considerable time and money spent on upgradingThe Terrace tunnel.

Would it have been so costly or difficult to place inside it some aerial system to provide seamless radio listening for the harried commuters who have the mis-fortune to use this tunnel every day? It's not as though this isn't possible because going through the Mt Victoria tunnel -

- no reception problems were encountered, nor did the traditional and beloved tooting from other drivers detract from my listening pleasure. All good with the Seatoun tunnel too,

although as it's so short it could be signals are not as compromised.

Anyway, a belated Happy 70th Birthday to the wonderful Paul McCartney - lets hope there are many more to come.

Solace ...

... in the solstice. Leaving home in the morning darkness and returning as night falls is dreary, but it's all on the upward journey to spring now with the solstice tomorrow. And not that I'm counting or anything, but holidays are on the horizon, too.