The perfect valentine gift

Actually, I was sorely tempted by the Blade box set...

Calamity Jane (1953)

So I got a valentine from my dog! She could have posed for the card, such was the likeness (and obviously why it was procured). A pretty yellow lab, holding a rose in her mouth. The caption inside said "Thanks for all the walkies..."

One big communal "AWWWWWWWW!!!" then.

I completely forgot about V-day actually, luckily, my beloved anticipated this & gave me a card to give back to her this morning.

Redemptively, I stumbled across the perfect chick-flick DVD at lunchtime (if your favourite song is "Secret Love" anyway.) I was looking for Before Sunrise, which is clearly the greatest romantic movie ever made (haven't seen Before Sunset yet, I'm told that's just as good, if not better).

I myself, got some aftershave... um... it starts with "L"... "La"-something... or something...

And dear readers, did you give or receive anything today?

Universal truth about the weather

If it's going to rain, it will do so 10 minutes into walking the dog when you haven't got a raincoat.

saturated.

also... some dickhead has parked his immense 4wd & trailer on the grass verge & footpath out front of our house. It's been there all day... these are the 'burbs! I'm going to have to mow the lawn sometime in the weekend.

Everyone is blogging this... but I love the first paragraph

Stolen from Hard News

Mike's doing it too...

Where Women Are real Men from the NZ Herald.

"Whose truth is this? New Zealanders love the land. They love being in it, doing things on it. New Zealanders go barefoot or in jandals because they want to be as close to the land as possible. They love the outdoors so much that when they invite you into their house they immediately take you outside again. They like to run on the streets."

Isn't that just beautiful? And so true. I'm not even a real Kiwi, but I lead guests in through the front door & right out the back...

I'm not going to bother with wondering what this says about genders in NZ. I'm gonna talk about my feet.

I'm too much of a puny wuss to go barefoot (never did toughen them up), but one of my biggest regrets of the last few years is that I munted my feet a while back (trying to lift a railway sleeper by myself & carry it across the section - a few days later, walking became something of a difficulty), and I have to wear orthotic implants (just another thing to start to fall off in my 40s...).

I used to have these really cool Reef sandals, that I bought in Nice, and later found replacements for right hear in New Zild. I travelled the world in these. I had permanently striped feet year round. Life was good. I was close to the land.

I can no longer wear those Reefs. To guarantee my ability to perambulate, I am restricted to sensible shoes with inserts (and by god, those inserts were uncomfortable for the first few weeks - invasive, almost) for the rest of my life... I managed to find some reasonably orthotic sandals in Melbourne a year or so ago, so I can lose the shoes & inserts for a few hours before it gets too agonising.

My wife says they make me look like a hobbit. Mind you, she was never keen on the Reefs either.

BTW: the Reef website is worth an ogle...

Men in Tights & Rat Flinging*

They need one of those temporary hazard signs, but with a morris dancer on it...

This weekend, I'm told, is the annual Manakau Medieval Market.

Katipo Gallery :: Manakau Medieval Market

Not to diss the event, but what is it with dressing up in faux armour & beating each other with plastic swords? I might understand if they had jousting in the Olympics...

Anyway... bound to be a fun day. Traffic will suck chunks... we've decided to skip travelling up the line (not because of the market, although it did not sway us otherwise... although I might be tempted if they were flinging morris dancers from trebuchets!).

I'll be staying home & possibly clearing the front garden for an impending car deck, on the off chance we reconcile our differences with the architect...

* No actual rats were injured in the making of this market.

Hot Abercrombie Chick - an interesting blog

Hot chick blogs on religion & philosophy.

Hot Abercrombie Chick Posts: what does irrational mean

And this one... if you have an out of body experience, how by definition, does your brain remember? Bet you never thought of that one.

Of course, it IS possible this is some 300lb, bald academic doing a BizGirl. If that's the case, we like his blogs & approve of his model.

BTW: check out some of the comments, we have a mix of serious dissertation/debate, and adolescent gawkers. And one guy called Eric who complains about her smile - sheesh!

And also... sending a trackback ping gets you emailed swimsuit photos* and a link someplace on her main page & since she pretty much tops the Blogarama coolest, most popular & highest rated lists... I thought why not.

* Not actually true

The Rules of Tennis Club

1. You do not talk about Tennis Club.
2. You DO NOT talk about Tennis Club

Except for now that is. I'm about to lift the lid on the odd phenomenon known in our suburb... as Tennis Club.

I've never played tennis in my life. It turns out that this is no disadvantage, because no-one plays tennis at Tennis Club. Except the children, and I'm only taking someone else's word for that, I've never so much as seen a tennis racquet at Tennis Club.

Tennis Club meets every Thursday after school & parents take turns at hosting it. Rumour has it that the kids are gathered up after school ends & taken to some secret place, not far away, which possibly has concrete & nets & white lines painted & possibly play tennis (I'm speculating here, bear with me).

Some time later, the kids are all transported back to the designated parents house, there can be dozens of them, I'm told, of varying ages & genders (I don't know for sure though, there were only about 6 of them when we've hosted it).

At about 7pm the parents gather at the appointed venue, indulge in finger food (it helps that two of the parents own local pizza stores), jocularity & pretty much get trolleyed. Luckily, with few exceptions, everyone lives within walking distance of each other.

Unless it's at our place, or within about 6 houses of us, I usually don't bother & send T out to do the socialising. I stay home & get to watch the news on TV - an unusual event. At the last one - the first of 2005 - parents did actually debate the merits of really playing tennis, I think someone had told a friend they were off to Tennis Club, then felt really guilty when that person expressed admiration that they were leading such an active lifestyle. "Top her up, please!"

Fortunately, one of the others present, was able to outline some new research that apparently says that if you are even thinking about energetic activity, it does you some good. Maybe not quite as much benefit as actually playing... but better than nothing.

At this stage, T told them that while they'd all been drinking & sharing inanities, she'd been "digging deep" and thinking about situps. They were impressed.

Meanwhile, I was at home, digging not so deep & wondering if the newsreaders are really CG creations. And wondering if I had time to watch my collector's edition DVD of the Good the Bad and the Ugly (14 new scenes!) before the girls got home.

Tennis club is at our place this coming Thursday... I'm thinking we need blazers.

You Buy Wadded Up Paper Now!

One of my all-time favourite sites.

Origami Boulder Company -- Original Origami Gifts!

ALternatively, check out Mike's site where someone is trying to sell him a rock.

KD Lang last night

On one of our very rare excursions into the big city, we went & saw KD Lang last night. 12 year old staying at a friend's, the dog walked early & swiftly... we were going to cable car into town & have a leisurely dinner, but opted instead to take our time getting ready, have a few wines, dial in Red Tomatoes pizzas, and stroll down to the Fowler Centre on such a lovely evening. Turns out, with 10 minutes to go there was a hurried call to a taxi company to get us there on time.

Ran into a guy I know outside, he seemed quite disappointed that the audience streaming in was mixed gender (stereotypes eh?), middle class, middle aged, middle of the road & affluent looking. Middle. Mostly, anyway. Anyhow, I don't really think Lang's ever been considered edgy or anything, she started in country music for goodness sake. In fact, we ended up sitting next to some people we know & before the show started, we discussed: our dogs; our children; house prices in our respective suburbs... talk about hip!

BTW: the venue gouges you for a glass of wine - $7.50.

The set started with a few numbers from the Wgtn Sinfonia, Tchaikofsky, Greig, Eleanor Rigby - all the classics in other words.

15 minutes into the show there was a break, to allow the venue to gouge us a bit more & then on came the lady herself.

Man, what a voice. She belted out some old favourites, a few numbers from her new album (covers of songs written by fellow Canadians - Hymns of the 49th Parallel I think it's called), followed by a few more of her hits, some Patsy Cline... and then two encores of one song each. You knew it was actually over when the Sinfonia started packing up. It was a giveaway.

She made some nice banter with the audience, some of whom had obviously seen her last time she was here:

"Wellington! It's been a long time. Too long"
"You split your pants last time you were here" someone yelled.
"Did I? Well that's why I wore a skirt tonight, I don't like to repeat myself."

We agreed that she STILL looks like a young Robert de Niro. Years ago I saw an obscure film called Salmonberries. Set in Alaska, and starring a very young Miss Lang. She also provided the haunting soundtrack. It's worth a look, and I defy you not to think to yourself "By golly, she looks like Robert de Niro."

I need to find a new job...

OK, I'm a little short (they can shoot from below) and fat, and possibly not so young, and ugly (so what are CG effects for?). But I can dye my hair, and even stomach the odd martini. And not least, I already have a dinner suit.

My time has come!

STUFF : ENTERTAINMENT - STORY : Search on for new 007

cryptoscatalogophobia

Been meaning to mention this for a while... it's coined by Jolissa Gracewood & is the fear that you have inadvertently typed "fuck" in the middle of a tremendously important document. For some reason it crossed my mind today when a colleague was discussing a tremendously important document he has just submitted to the powers that be.

Public Address | Busytown: "cryptoscatalogophobia"

Some updates...

First up...

Since finishing the excellent Tarzan Presley, I've been spending my reading time with Maurice Gee's In My Father's Den. Oh gosh, to be able to write like that... I've been a Gee fan since a flatmate of mine got given Plumb (circa 1984), and since he was an engineering student who didn't read, he asked me to read it, and fill him in on the details so he could tell his brother how much he enjoyed it next time he saw him... I loved it. His brother was pleased.

Anyway, In My Father's Den, I'm meaning to check out the movie version shortly after I finish the book. The plot reminds me of Mystic River, which I saw last week also (and which is fantastic, but a real downer...). Teenage girl found murdered, man she knew suspected of the crime... I reckon I've figured out whoactuallydunnit & why, but we'll see... a lovely book.

I'll be catching the film Fractured soon too, based on another Gee book. My mum's in it apparently. Since she retired she fills in her days with all sorts of activities, including on occasion it seems, being a film extra.

Second up...

Sunny O. We spent 3 weeks there from Boxing day. The weather was pretty good (it only really rained one day & that was the day much of the rest of the coast flooded. Since we're on sand, we didn't, but gawd, it persisted all day... The rest of the time tended between brilliant sunshine & overcast, which we didn't mind, since for 2 of the 3 weeks we had things to do & overcast meant we could do them without expiring from heat exhaustion.

Actually, the day after the storm we took Wilma for a walk & the Waitohu Stream was about 4 times its usual size. We ran into a noted historian on a walk with his mum & partner, and I don't know how he missed the storm the night before, but he was under the impression the local council was to blame for the big mess of debris on the beach, thought they'd brought tractors down & changed the flow of the river. I pointed out that it changed all the time, especially after a big storm. But he looked skeptical. Have I mentioned this already? Anyway, there were logs the size of ships coming down what is normally a stream.



and for some reason, every time there is a storm, tonnes & tonnes of onions are deposited on the beach. There must be a pretty cleaned out onion farm somewhere upstream.

On the home front, T shifted 5 metres of mulch from a large pile near the shed to newly created gardens. Funny, when this was ordered, we gave instructions for the guy to drive it down the drive, and dump it somewhere near the shed on the left. A few days later, I got a call at work from a guy who knows how to follow instructions:

"Acme mulch here, I've got a load for you & the instructions say to take it down the drive & dump it near the shed on the left."
"That's right" I said.
"Well I'm down the drive... and there's a little shed on my left... you want it there?"
".....yes."
"Good as gold!"

Meanwhile, I dismantled an entire length of post & rail fencing & felled one of the old willow trees which would have landed on the fence if I'd left it there.. Then I put the fence back together, this involved digging 6 very deep holes for new fence posts, and even managed to install a new (recycled from elsewhere on the property) gate. It looks very cool. I defy the sheep to escape from that!



Because that's exactly what happened shortly before Christmas. When we arrived, we noted what looked like sheep poo around the house area, from which the sheep are normally fenced off. Then we noted that 3 young citrus trees, which had been very recently planted, were completely stripped of leaves & one had been ring barked. The rosebuds were all gone too.

When next I saw our elderly neighbour, I asked her if one of the sheep had got out.
"They all did!"

Turns out a week or so before, there was a dog on the property. Fortunately it didn't have a go at the sheep. The best we can figure is that a neighbour on the other side of the property, came to get their dog, and then couldn't manage to close the gate between the house & the paddocks (retards).

Next thing, Janet & Norma, who both border our garden, and are, I imagine, both in their 70s, spotted the sheep browsing where they shouldn't. The advised course of action at this point, is to go get Master Tim, yet another next door neioghbour (we're bordered by about 15 properties in all), who is a retired farmer & has featured in this blog before.

But these two thought they'd liven their day by rounding up the beasts themselves. With the help of Janet's 6 year old grand-daughter.

Wish we'd seen it... they managed in the end, but not before a lot of thundering of little hooves all around the property & house. Most exercise either have had in decades, they reckon. Actually all you need to do is open the gate & walk into the paddock, they'll follow you. Especially if you have a few slices of bread in hand.

We've just spent the last two weekends up there. temperatures in the 30s. I've pretty much finished processing the old willow tree (look, it was in danger of falling over), I plan to make one large block of it into a seat, and the stump, if I can maintain a steady hand with the chainsaw, will become a table. Also... these things are indestructible, the woodpile is already starting to sprout willow leaves & my proto-table & seat are bound to live on.

And we've discovered a neat swimming hole on the Ohau River. Mindful that my opthalmologist warned me not to go swimming this summer, and worrying greatly that I'll dislodge the plastic lenses in my eyes... (which BTW, reflect light in certain circumstances & give people the creeps - COOL!!), I nevertheless succumbed this weekend. If you can't trust mountain rivers to be pure, what can you trust?

Sometime soon, I will probably update this post with some piccies - gates, rivers... whatever else I find on the camera.

PS: I forgot, I also read Get Shorty, the Elmore Leonard book from which the movie was made. It's exactly like the movie. Fun.

PS: I thought I'd figured out whodunnit & why for In My Father's Den. I now know I got the why wrong... so chances are I missed the who also.

The Jamjar: Stock Photography

Ah... recycling someone's old posts... but really, this one deserves to be seen again & again. Cheers Michelle.

The Jamjar: December 2004 Archives

Sevens weekend brings 'em all out...

THE DOMINION POST - STORY : Watt a time to get a bit silly

Mr Watt was my boss once. A long time ago when he was Under Secretary for Energy.

If you were out and about on the Wellington streets today at lunchtime, you might have spotted me. I was the guy dressed normally. Not even a stupid double entendre emblazoned on my T shirt.

To the girls dressed as "The Panty Police - Are your panty's legal?" - That's Are you're panty's legal, morons. Get it right next year.

To the girls dressed in plastic overalls which say "Fucking Mental" - you're going to sweat.

To the "Dude, where's me haggis?" people - er... WTF?

To the guys in tutus - where did it ever say this was remotely amusing?

To the guy dressed as Peter Dunne... - You FREAK!! Oh wait, I think it was Peter Dunne. Way to go dude.

Anyone see any good ones?

Classified ads...

Mike is right, the first one is priceless... but I also like:

"Hitachi Washing Machine, DX250, under warranty until kill kill kill kill them all February 2004. In perfect working order... etc"

sorry, hard to type, tears streaming down my face & trying not to convulse in front of the hired help, who think I'm working on their performance reviews...

MiramarMike: Late to work, loads of emails, requirements to document ... but this is must be read

By popular demand...

Sort of anyway...

Actually, I have no idea where this was taken, it just appeared on the intranet at work...

It's come to this - beam him up quick

I forgot to mention this, but there's this guy selling paua jewellery from a stand on Lambton Quay, right about where Amazon is, opposite the Southern end of Kirkcaldies.

Well don't spread it around, but I'm pretty sure it's William Shatner.

Mt Webcam defended from perving claims.

And the URL? C'mon!

STUFF - STORY - HOME : New Zealand's leading news and information website

Gather Round, we have stories to tell...

A long time ago, in a government department far, far away... (actually, it's just down the road from here)... Systems Guy & Network Guy were instructed by their IT Manager to visit the Christchurch & Dunedin branch offices on Tuesday & Wednesday respectively, and upgrade their network & operating systems. Details are fuzzy, this was a century ago & probably involved changing the paper cups joined with string, to polystyrene.

Systems & Network Guys arrived in the Christchurch office shortly after lunch, with their overnight bags, deciding that checking in to their hotel could wait till later. They spent the afternoon schmoozing with the locals, fielding all sorts of questions, and solving lots of little problems. They also inspected a PC installation that had been ordered urgently, delivered & set up with speed, and discovered it was living in it's own little office, with a joy-stick attached to it. It's always a pleasure to see the fruits of your labour, they agreed.

They were gods. Young(ish), smart, attractive, charming, professional. And above all, helpful.

Once the office staff left for the day, the real work began. Backing up the systems, swapping hardware, upgrading software, fixing the problems, reloading from backups & doing it all over again. And again.

By 9pm the boys were finished. The network & systems were up & running & tested.

On the way to a taxi stand to check in to their hotel, Network Guy observed that he had always liked Christchurch, he used to live there. Indeed, at some stage in his interesting life, he had been a DJ for a local radio station. Suddenly he stopped mid reminscence, and pointed out a trendy looking bar across the road, Route 66. "I know this place! You'll like it, let's pop in for a drink."

Systems Guy, not normally a drinker, agreed it had been a long night, "Bloody good idea". Outside the bar, a sign announced "Tuesday Night, Route 66 Dance Competition". Both men thought this might be a laugh.

Inside, the barkeep, on spotting the two "suits" with their overnight bags asked "Just arrived in town?"

"No" said Systems Guy
"Yes" said Network Guy at the same time.

Looking confused, but amused, the barkeep agreed to look after their bags & served them drinks.

The place was quite nice, roomy, tables & stools, and taking up one whole side of the large room, a short stage, with a runway jutting out, at the end of which was what I think they call a dance pole. The clientelle was young, smart, and it has to be said, remarkably attractive. Music was playing over some sort of sound system, and a DJ lurked behind his console in one corner.

A couple of drinks into their visit, the DJ announced that the dance competition was resuming. the music was cranked up, and there followed a succession of dancers, some individually, some in pairs, some in small groups, who bopped, gyrated... pogoed even, before bowing to polite applause & making way for the next act.

After about an hour of this, there was a short break, after which the DJ promised that "the normal Route 66 dancers would perform". Systems Guy looked at Network Guy quizzically, "Hang on, you'll see" Network Guy assured.

And indeed, after the break, the stage was occupied by a young, dark haird woman of athletic build, whose dancing was a cut above the previous acts. Added to this, halfway through her number, she very elegantly began to disrobe.

"WTF?!!" said Systems Guy.
"I TOLD YOU YOU'D LIKE THIS PLACE!!" roared Network Guy, over the tumultous applause Athletic Girl was receiving.

Now Systems Guy was a bit confused, Route 66 didn't seem like a strip club, at least half the clientelle were women for starters. He'd been to one or two such places in the past, and there, the only women are on stage.

The evening progressed, the drinks flowed freely, and a succession of young, beautiful dancers - both women & men - took the stage & did their stuff, down to the nitty gritty for some of them, just down to their smalls for others. Systems Guy began to think that he & Network Guy were the only people in the place who weren't strippers. But hey, who was he to complain.

Many drinks later, the boys noticed a very attractive, voluptuous woman was watching them. They discussed this for a short while, then Network Guy stood up, announced loudly "We HAVE to have her! Even if we have to pay for her!" And lurched across the room. Sensing impending disaster, Systems Guy tried to stand up, then relaxed when Network Guy got within a few metres of the young woman & veered off instead to the mens' room. The woman stopped watching them after that.

Around about midnight now, our two heroes were completely trolleyed, the DJ announced that there would be a free for all dance off, & prizes for the most outrageous.

At 2am, two dishevelled "suits" arrived at their hotel to check in. Well watered, unfed. Systems Guy asked if they did 24 hour room service. They didn't. So he ordered breakfast instead, asked for a 5am wake-up call so they could make their 7am flight to Dunedin. Network Guy, utterly blitzed & mumbling incomprehensively, retired to his room to empty the mini bar of snacks.

Later that morning, two very bleary IT professionals were on their way to Dunedin. Network Guy rummaged in his hand luggage, produced a bottle of Pink Chardon, and enquired politely "Have you any idea why this is in my bag?"

Systems Guy informed him "You won it in the dance competition last night."
Network Guy groaned mournfully.

Dunedin was horrible that day. Much later on, Systems Guy discoverd that Route 66 was an amateur strip bar.

... and now, by all means do check out this blog, belonging to one of the smartest, most attractive, charming & professional Network Guys you could ever meet. He's a great dancer too.

speeches.com - All You Need For A Speech.

Need to make a speech? This is fantastic - this site, brought to you by the brilliant David Slack (feel free to link to me David!) will ask you a few salient questions, and then write your speech for you.

speeches.com - All You Need For A Speech.

How easy could it get?

TV Cream's Top 100 Toys

More gratuitous plundering of Mike's posts... purely because I used to have this very edition of Mastermind & I always thought the white sheathed assistant standing behind the mastermind (I presume) was hot. Geeks get girls, I think is the message there. Maybe someone should initiate an international search to find out what became of her - how did it work out with the Mastermind? Etc. Actually, the write-up here tells us the Mastermind on the box was in reality a Leicester hairdresser called Bill Woodward... I guess it may not have gone well for the hottie.

Many of these toys are familiar to me, I have fond memories of a house on a canal bank in Wales, and the cadbury Chocolate Machine (#42).

And Subbuteo! (#12). What more is there to say?

Um... This... And I'm thrilled they include the magnificent Johnny Seven Gun (#26). I ALWAYS wanted one of these (still do), but my miserly parents never obliged. There was one kid in the village who had one & he was the envy of all the Risca Town School boys. Man... it takes me back just looking at it. About as close as I ever got to one still. In their defence, my folks did spring for a small plastic handgun that fired dried peas. That was pretty cool & lasted years.

Some, I've never ever heard of before... (Play Doh's Fuzzy Pumper Barber & Beauty Shop - #39 - WTF?)

And what about the smile on the Hangman's face there (#30). SO pleased I didn't have THAT.

the Dr Who tardis (#22) looks cool & might even make a comeback now they've revived the series (with Christopher Eccleston). I seem to recall one of my siblings had a battery operated Dalek, and would spit at it. So they say.