Lotto and the Glitter Cannon

I was chatting a while back to a friend, saying how stressful it would be to have to go on Winning Wheel to get a prize. I wondered if it was possible to send in a proxy because as much as I would love the money, I could never do the television appearance to get it. She was amazed anyone wouldn't want to do it, but kindly offered to step in for me for a small fifty percent cut of the takings. My fears have definitely been vindicated after this week's wheel - it's not just scary, its downright dangerous.

Apparently the woman is OK, though I'm not sure the presenter was sure of that while she bravely asserted all was well. The upshot is we are now all losers - the Lotto Commission have stated that no longer will glitter cannons be used in future celebrations. The old adage- it's only fun until someone loses an eye - comes to mind. Which also brings to mind the best Christmas themed movie ever. 

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Briscoes - Apology Withdrawn

On July the first, I posted this apology to Briscoes after sourcing a reasonably priced, stainless steel electric kettle. The apology is officially withdrawn. Your prices, Briscoes, are reasonable because your products are crap. A week ago the kettle started making little electric 'fizzy' sounds when switched on. Yesterday it stopped making these noises and also stopped heating the water. To its credit, it did keep illuminating its little 'yes, I'm on the job' light. Six months isn't a long life for an appliance. So now I have a nice new electric kettle.

Rather stylish new electric kettle.

And no, I didn't go back to Briscoes to buy the new one or to claim my rights because I don't have any proof of purchase. I never keep receipts because my experience is that not keeping them is far less annoying further down the track than the alternative. The alternative is knowing the receipt is somewhere, tearing every drawer and cupboard apart and not finding it.

It's definitely here somewhere. 

Patience

Today I posted a Christmas parcel. I've been intending to get it in the post for weeks now and was aware I was leaving my run late. When I arrived at the Post Shop the queue was long and moving very slowly. Given the events of the last week such inconveniences have been placed firmly back into the proper perspective within the great scheme of life. Fussing about waiting ten minutes seems hardly anything to fuss about at all. As I waited patiently, the chap in front hopped from foot to foot, peered ahead with irritation and sighed big sighs. Although he doesn't know me, I know him and I smiled to myself. He's the manager of a local supermarket.

Our eyes met, and it just came out. "It's the mail equivalent of your express checkout." I can't help but feel I got caught up in some retail form of divine retribution, and it was well worth it!

Two Movies

Last Sunday ...

... and this afternoon. Both are excellent, don't miss either.

I love movies, as long as they are in a movie theatre. By theatre, I mean one of the five cinemas at The Lighthouse, Petone. And preferably with a glass of wine. I pay an extraordinarily high monthly bill to TelstraClear for my television 'movie' package. This includes at least five movie channels, but I never watch a single movie. I pay the money because one can only access The Living Channel and a few others by subscribing to a package of some sort. I don't watch dvds. I don't know why, but I can't get into movies at home - they ought to be an experience, and at home they are not.

When I was a child there were lots of rites of passage along the journey of childhood. They were anticipated and enjoyed all the more for the anticipation. In my family, these included a bike (secondhand) at nine, a watch at ten. The first trip to the 'pictures' to see your first 'film' was also one of these. You had to be old and responsible enough to sit through the experience without causing a disruption to others. (I note that such niceties and manners are no longer a parental expectation in today's movie theatres, as the 'I'm special, there's no-one else quite like me, centre of the universe' children tear up and down the aisles.)

Anyway, my first trip to was to see Danny Kaye in Hans Christian Andersen. It started off an appreciation for movie-going as an outing with a special sense of purpose and occasion. You just can't get that in your own living room.

December

It's official - the first day of summer and Christmas frenzy may now begin. Last night I attended a very pleasant seasonally themed event. It was the opening of the Cystic Fibrosis Christmas Tree Festival. It's on for a week at the Michael Fowler Centre. By voting for your favourite tree and making a small donation you can help this worthy cause and get into the spirit of the season. There are lots of trees to view - well worth a visit.

The Christmas card tree got my vote, but it wasn't an easy choice.

The opening of the festival featured entertainment by the Bach Choir, accompanied an ensemble from the symphony orchestra. They sang all the great old-fashioned 'proper' Christmas carols - not a mention of a jolly fat man and his reindeer. It was just lovely!

On the way home we made a quick trip to visit Gandalf. He makes an impressive sight. I never saw any of the 'rings' movies and probably won't see the Hobbit ones, but I like the fun and atmosphere they bring to our cool little capital.

Lawn

I was at a dinner last night - work colleagues and an assemblage of their partners. The food was good and conversation flowed. At one stage I was sitting with a group whose small talk turned to lawns. By a process of elimination, I deduced that the lawn guru to whom the others had turned to for sage advice was the golf course green keeper partner of another staff member. He talked of saturation depths and run-off, while others spoke proudly of their own pristine, weed-free efforts. There was agreement as to the folly of cutting too low and the importance of grass seed selection.

I decided not to share my own lawn stories, but when out in my sunny backyard this morning I gazed upon its beauty, and remain quite sure my lawn is what a lawn should be. A bumble bee was buzzing around the clover flowers. Little white daisies were sprinkled here and there. Defiant dandelions were enjoying a quick flowering before the next mow.

I also have an impressive patch of cape daisy. This tenacious plant links me to fond memories of childhood. My parents waged an ongoing war against this invader,  spending considerable time and effort digging out every plant they could see. Every year the cape daisy, with its strong, long tap roots, remained the ultimate victor and dominated the lawn. But for the daisy chain enthusiast, there is no better material to work with. The stems are sufficiently thick to allow easy slitting with a thumb nail for on-going linking of one daisy to another.  Some possibly record-breaking lengths of chain were produced over long, lazy summer days. 

On the way home, I called in on friends. I was bustled into the garden to view their latest discovery. All through the lawn self-seeded poppy plants have appeared. Anticipation of the colour to come delights them - they know the elements of a real lawn. Their garden will look far nicer than any bowling green or golf course. I'm calling back today to dig out a few plants for myself - a nice contrast against the cape daisy.

So, I am happy with my lawn, and every weed within. But when I mow, I want it to know it's been mowed - I force the mower blade down below the manufacturers sadly inadequate 'low' setting (this interferes with the easy attaching of the catcher, but well worth the effort) and scalp it. Try the scalped weed lawn method - you'll never regret it!

Another Weekend ...

Best served with a side salad of catnip.

... comes swiftly to an end. It's been a pleasant one. Friday night's 50th birthday of a friend was fun - a little wine, a little dancing and the chance for a catch-up with some lovely people. I think Millie must have taken the opportunity of having me out of the house for the evening to invite a few friends around in my absence. To give her her due, by the time I got home close to midnight she had cleared out all signs of feline frolics, apart from one cooked chicken wing on the dining room rug. Heavens knows how she arranged the catering, but there you go - she's a very enterprising cat.

Avoiding eye contact the best policy when questions awkward questions are asked.

All the signs are good for a long, hot summer - the cabbage trees and pohutakawa don't lie. But it would be foolish to assume it will last forever, and so the first two trailer loads of firewood have been stacked this weekend. Quite apart from the visual joy, the garage now has that delicious firewood smell.  

I've been using Google Chrome as my browser at school, and this weekend have made it the default at home, too. Safari just wasn't cutting it in the frenzied world of high graphics farming and Chrome has some great features and extensions, including a very easy YouTube downloader. I know, I was dubious too, but try it - it's great.

No, of course I'm not addicted, why I'm hardly ever on Facebook at all!