Nigel

He's been around for a few years now. I've always found him fairly irritating, with his smug comedy show presentations of parenting advice. More recently though, with his recent television series, he has branched out to being the go-to guru for just about everything. He has covered a range of topics - alcohol, prisons, poverty - and by all accounts the shows have been well-presented and interesting, and more about the topics and less about him. The final programme has aired, and Nigel has somewhat redeemed himself in my estimations.

It was all about sugar. He didn't cover anything that any paleo lifestyler hasn't known for years, but by the reactions to the programme it has been a revelation to many that this is basically a refined, addictive poison and cunningly added to basically every processed food. But the most important thing Nigel did was to expose yet another reason to turn away from the dark side that is the foul concoction, Marmite ...

... with its nasty added sugar, and come into the light that is Vegemite ...

... with its smooth, yeasty goodness. You know I'm right, but the masses seem to need a guru to turn to - so go Nigel!

Signs of Spring

It is very easy to mis-read the signs. I captured these delightful shots weeks and weeks ago on the walk to school.

But mother nature was only teasing. A fresh batch of rain and cold made an appearance just to confirm that winter was still in charge. Last week, however, the mornings suddenly seemed a lot lighter and we basked in glorious sunshine, with the light having a stronger, brighter quality. This morning though, the most compelling and reliable portent of the new season made its first visit. 

You can't fool a blow fly. It knows the exact day and it is the true herald of spring. And so, to the gentle buzzing of its activity, my eyes wandered out to the sunny deck and it was clear the time had come to set to work. When I bought this house the deck was brand new. As with the whole property, everything was beautifully staged and unrealistically clean and neat.

The standard rose are long gone, but the deck itself has served well for sunny breakfasts and general lethargy. But the four years have taken their toll on the planks. They have become mottled and grey. Nor have the years been kind to the outdoor furniture.

Do the makers of such items not suspect that there is a strong possibility that, given the word 'outdoor' in the description, they may be exposed to rain while performing their designated task? Apparently not, because they select a metal frame pretty much guaranteed to rust. So it has been a satisfying day. The table and chairs have been given the heave-ho. The trusty Nilfisk (I know - so cute!) has been dusted off ...

... and the transformation is underway, and coming along very nicely. 

I can't wait to get back into it next weekend to finish the job, and join the hoards at Mitre 10 selecting the perfect new outdoor setting - another sure sign of spring!

The Mind

The mind is an intriguing thing, and must be treated with the utmost of care. I avoid the news and other sources of despairing stories, including those my friends try to relate, because once a thing is seen or heard it is hard to forget. Of course this also relates to quite innocuous bits and pieces of information, too. Which is why my mind often wanders to a friend's husband whenever I shower. I hasten to add  I have no designs on him in the least. I only occasionally see him but an image of him is locked in my brain. This is the result of a conversation about showering and toothbrushing that was had in his absence long ago. The subject came up, heavens knows why, as to whether it is correct to clean one's teeth before or after showering*. His wife shared the very oddest of facts that he in fact does neither, but actually cleans his teeth in the shower - yes, in the shower, with hot water! And so it is that when I think of him I don't recall a charming man, husband and father. No, I see this ...

... which any well read child can tell you is a picture of the Herk-Heimer Sisters, from Dr Suess' Sleep Book. But even the Herk-Heimer Sisters were presumably using cold water up at Herk-Heimer Falls, where the great river rushes and crashes down crags in great gurgling rushes. My mind has made the association - Hot water? For teeth? - and I fear it is locked in forever. 

*The correct answer is, of course, after one's shower; unless as happened to me yesterday, the shower takes a long time to run hot and you are in a hurry to leave the house. And never with hot water.

Sticking At It

I've never been much of one for joining things or doing any particular pastime too actively. It may stem back to my childhood. My parents had encouraged and supported my older siblings in worthy pursuits such as St John's, hockey, soccer, ballet and Brownies. Thankfully, by the time I came along their interest and energy for such things had waned. I never showed a glimmer of interest in sports or clubs and they never suggested I should join any, with one exception. An after school organisation called Busy Bees was held each Wednesday at our church. As my mother was active in the church and on the management board, my participation was required.

At Busy Bees we started each session completing crafts which would be sold to support the overseas missions of the church. I can only hope that my cross-stitched hessian oven cloths went some way towards improving the lives of those with leprosy in The New Hebrides. I always looked forward to Wednesday afternoons, but sadly not because of the opportunity to do good works in a cosy Christian environment. My mother gave me sixpence each week for the collection, and that allowed me to call at the dairy on the way for threepence worth of lollies and still have a coin to drop in the plate. Numbers were dwindling in our inner city church and soon Busy Bees was no more. I never sought a replacement. I have tried a few things over the years, but the reality is I really don't like committing to anything on a regular basis or being a member of an organisation. A walk, a book, a movie, a coffee - when and if I can be bothered - is quite enough to keep me content.

They made you choose a sport at High School - I chose this one because it involves standing in one place, once a year, on athletics day.

That whole getting sweaty thing just wasn't me, and far too much enthusiasm to be natural.

A bit of a personal best - I lasted half a season!

Like all sports much trickier than it looks, and really cold. Much more fun to be had just going up and down on the chairlifts and drinking hot chocolates.

Surprisingly unlike being a mermaid and very tiring, with an unnerving closeness to drowning. 

The clay can be really wobbly and they make you cut your fingernails.

Time

I was mentioned on another blog as being in a list of links that have been inactive for some time. It's not that I haven't been writing posts. I write them all the time in my head as I walk here and there and ponder life as it presents itself to me. Time has just overtaken me in recent months and the act of actually recording them for posterity has failed to occur. I have missed it - the process of shaping thoughts is deeply satisfying. So, dear readers, I hope to be back into this pleasant pursuit on a regular basis, and my thanks to Richard (of Richard's Bass Bag - the #1 Bass Bagging site) for his gentle prompt.

Richard works his magic.

My more long suffering acquaintances have had the inestimable pleasure of tracking my recent New York holiday through my Facebook postings, so I will spare them any more 'me in front of something' snaps. I do though have a couple of thoughts arising from my travels.

How can the USA, arguably the greatest nation on earth, have got the simple toilet so wrong? I'm sure Thomas Crapper never conceived his brilliant invention would end this way. I'm talking water level - it's just too high, way too high. And then there's the pause after you flush, the unsettling possibility that it will rise some more and overflow, and the inexorable time it takes to swirl and finally finish it's business and yours. And what is it with these horseshoe seats in the public ones? 

The doyen of home decorating - how does she come up with all those ideas?.

While exploring home wares in Macy's, I came upon this display of Martha Stewart's trendy new collection of storage containers. Gosh, I thought, that looks a lot like the cheap old Sistema stuff they flog off in New Zealand supermarkets.

And then I looked closer and it was the cheap old Sistema stuff they flog off in New Zealand supermarkets. It even said 'Made in New Zealand'. The only difference was the colour - which I have to admit was very pretty and the perfect duck egg blue for my own home. So basically, if you are already famous and rich, all you have to do is say "Yes, that looks great but change the colour" and you are a designer with a new collection and even more money.

I guess that's why they call it the land of opportunity!

The Properties of Gases

Way, way back when I went to secondary school there was no such thing as NCEA. In the fifth form you sat School Certificate, and no amount of pandering to the egos of teachers and decorating your assignments with colourful borders made a jot of difference to your final examination outcome. It was all externally assessed by one exam for each subject. Modesty obviously precludes me from mentioning my five staggeringly brilliant pass rates for Maths, Geography, English, Biology and Chemistry, but I do have to admit that there was a sixth subject in which I did not score well or indeed pass at all - Physics. Despite this lopsided acquisition of scientific knowledge, I have stumbled on successfully through life and have always liked the science questions best in Trivial Pursuit and quiz competitions.

Going for a green slice of pie!

And so it is I know a little about states of matter and properties of gases. There are four main properties of gases, but today we will illuminate the one of which I often think about in relation to my occupation. The first of the gas laws states that a gas expands spontaneously to fill its container - the volume of gas is equal to that of the container in which it is held. This is equally true of time and teaching. Think of time as the container and teaching, and all its associated tasks, as the gas. Basically, teaching has the capacity to take up as much time as is available to it. And like gas it escapes easily into other containers, so time you think you are spending elsewhere, mentally or physically, often is infiltrated by school. You're lying in a bubble bath, but in your head you are reorganising class seating. You are on a pleasant walk, but you are mulling over your planning approach for writing rather than admiring the view. You're online, but checking out ideas for introducing place value concepts to five year olds and ordering special pencils from the USA to correct the crazy pencil grips children arrive at school with. You are browsing in a book shop but you are drawn to the children's books and cool dinosaur stickers. You meet friends for coffee, but as most friends have been acquired via various schools, the talk inevitably turns to something teaching related. 

Tangible token time - financed by you know who!

And this, all in all, is quite fine. But when the "What did you do in the holidays?" question arises, although I can say this ...

 ... and this ...

 ... and this ...

... and lots of this ...

... accompanied by lots of good friends and good food, there was also a lot of school. Quite apart from the days spent on site, a lot of time and headspace went into school related tasks - because school is like a sneaky gas, streaming into any space it can find the teeniest of nooks through which to enter. The only way to hold it completely at bay is to do something so totally absorbing, rewarding and distracting that it is defeated at every turn. And so it is that next holiday break I am making myself as unavailable, physically and mentally, as is possible within the contraints of my financial resources. And when I am asked about my holiday activities I will be able to say this ...

... though I can't help but think there could be some really cool stickers there, and those pencils are bound to be cheaper ...

Easter in Petone

Petone is famous for its boutique shopping - all sorts of quirky shops to explore. Strolling Jackson Street, it's nice to see some retailers are decorating their windows for Easter. Of course, you'd expect the chocolate shop to be on to it ....

... and the same goes for the party shop.

But look at the bunnies on the British shop!

Oh, and look at the chicks in the shoe shop window!

The picture framer has a giant egg in the window!

And look at these gorgeous bunnies! Wait ... no, don't look at these gorgeous bunnies, children!

It might look like Cadbury's purple, but those are not eggs the bunnies are holding. You have sunk to a new low, Peaches and Cream!