After the gym this morning, I stopped around the bays at one of my favourite cafes for a welcome coffee, after abstaining over the weekend. The good weather of the past week of so had vanished, and we were encased in misty rain and low clouds, limiting visibility and sucking the colour from everything except the bright yellow and orange lifeguard stand in the middle of Oriental Bay, pointless and forlorn, useful for only a few short days this summer-in-name-only.
Archive for the ‘Just life’ Category
- When do people ever have the time to listen to podcasts?
- How can someone have a workout and then not shower afterwards?
- Why would you bother buying a Maserati four-door sedan?
- Why did the plural “there are” disappear (particularly in speech), and when did “impact” become a verb (with a nod to my friend who once titled his blog, “Impact is not a verb”)?
- What is the attraction of selfies?
- By deliberately not revealing our 2017 holiday destinations yet, have I made it an inevitable anti-climax when I finally do, and will I know when it is the right time to do the big reveal?
- Will I ever get around to tidying my office?
- Is it obvious that five of these questions had been recorded for this post for a while, and three of them were made up on the spot to get to eight sentences?
Yesterday I kicked myself as I drove again to the gym, around the bays, where the harbour was a flat, reflective, surface, the boats and boathouses sitting perfectly in the morning light, just waiting for me to photograph them with the camera that, you guessed it, I’d left back at the house.
Still, I worked out at the gym where the glass doors were flung open onto the balcony, enjoying the feelings of a summer come at last, and realised I didn’t need a camera to appreciate the sights, or to take them for my blog readers.
Then, I drove further east, through movieland – occasionally called Wellywood, the base of Peter Jackson and Weta’s extensive movie-making businesses, the birthplace of the Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit movies, where work on Avatar and many other movies is ongoing – through to the seaside suburb with the movie-industry-induced high residential prices, and always the feeling as if you’re on holiday at the beach, where I was meeting a friend who had escaped the Polish winter for a week or two, and had been welcomed home with a perfect day.
We sat beachside to catch up, appropriately donning hats and sunscreen, over coffee and avocado-smash toast, enjoying the sight of the interisland ferries passing out in the channel, plotting some last adventures offshore before her years in Europe end and before old age (and, in my case, lack of funds) gets us.
Then I drove home around different bays, enjoying the spectacular views and making note of old piers for future photography assignments, noting truly that you can’t beat Wellington on a good day, even though this year they have truly been few and far between.
The afternoon was spent working at my in-laws, taking advantage of the lack of wind to chop down/prune some trees, to collect bags of lemons which my in-laws hate to go to waste but forget to give away, the by then inevitable visit to the tip (which is much less frenzied on a Monday), and a few minutes to play with my camera, enjoying the different angles of their raised flowerbeds, and the copulating butterflies who were also taking advantage of this stunning day.
The day ended with drinks on our deck, shaded by one of our trees, taking therapy not only from the alcohol and fine weather, but from watching the tui and fantails and many other nondescript and therefore nameless birds in our trees, the quantity of which (as I had learned earlier in the day from national radio) apparently decidedly reduces our stress levels (as I am sure my bird-watching friend are well aware). It’s good to have another reason to relax outside with a camera, a drink, and each other – not that I needed one after the pleasure of spending time with friends and the satisfaction of a job well done.
Nineteen days into February, when in previous (almost as disappointing) years autumn was preparing to knock on the door, summer has decided to turn up for a visit. After a bit of gloom yesterday morning, and some overnight rain, we’re now basking in the second consecutive day of sun and warmth. I’m wearing a sunfrock for only the second time this year, and this morning I had breakfast out on the deck, enjoying the fact that I was not locked into an air-conditioned office like the rest of my friends.
I’d already resigned myself to the fact that summer this year was a bust and so, after many weeks of disappointment and disbelief and shock, I decided to relax and see the funny side.
I’m doing that elsewhere in my life too, where I’ve experienced similar emotions (and I suspect I’m not the only one). Frustration and anger are exhausting and can be upsetting, and the resultant swearing – although research says that it can be therapeutic – might be briefly satisfying but isn’t sustainable long term. So right now, I find I feel better instead when I can laugh and say, “Good grief!” and so I’m saying it multiple times a day this summer.
But not today – today I’m going to enjoy the moment, the sound of the cicadas outside, the blue sky, and the balmy temperatures.
I’m enjoying the photography challenge that I do in between Microblog Mondays posts, but I think I’ve realised that one of the things I like best about it is that I get to explore things that are important to me, and to then write about them here (however briefly), taking as much or more pleasure in that than I do the photography.
I found my old camera!
The grilled chicken sandwich I made for lunch, with leftover chicken from dinner last night (marinated in coriander – cilantro for you North Americans – and mint and lime juice and red curry paste) and the spicy banana chutney that goes with it.
Remembering that friends and relatives are so important to our well-being, and should be celebrated. The last few days have been especially good – I got to see two friends on Friday, a niece and her partner on Saturday (and it was fine enough to have drinks on the deck), and other friends for dinner last night, a friend who spends half her life in France will be visiting in a few weeks, and I’m anticipating the arrival home of another friend after four years in Europe.
That we manage to balance our interests by happily driving an old, increasingly beat-up car (we bought it new 19 years ago), not owning diamonds or fancy clothes or expensive shoes etc, so that we can travel.
After waking up (at 5 am) to a gale that was shaking the house and rattling the roof, with mists that shrouded the house at the same time, followed by heavy rain, now it is bright and sunny (though still reasonably windy). Three seasons in one day, but there’s still time for a fourth, so here’s a Crowded House treat for you:
Do you ever put something away somewhere safe, and then can’t find it?
Two years ago we went away for a few weeks, and so I hid my hard drive that held all my back-ups from my laptop, including years of photos. I came back, looked for it where I thought it was, but had no luck, and as I’ve had no luck subsequently, I now use a new hard drive that backs up my laptop.
In November, we went away for a couple of weeks, and I did the hiding-precious-things again, including my laptop, my hard drive, and my recently replaced but much-loved eight-year-old camera. On arrival home, I retrieved my laptop and hard drive, but didn’t realise for some weeks that I didn’t know where my camera was.
Lastly, I replaced my cell phone about six months ago, but my old one still works and will be quite handy when we travel, as I use an international SIM card (because it is so much cheaper than typical roaming charges) but don’t really want to have to swap out SIMS on my new phone. I suspect I hid it at the same time as I hid my camera, but I’m not sure – I know I don’t know exactly where it is.
Am I losing my marbles, or do you think we have a mischievous technology-stealing sprite living in our house?
Chatting with my AFS friends on social media, whether it is about politics or travel or recipes. We said goodbye when we were still teenagers, but we’re forever bonded by our common experiences in Thailand, and I love that.
An email from Helen, a regular commenter and former blogger, who even when she says she has lost her writing mojo, comes up with a phrase like this (and I am sure she won’t mind me quoting her):
“… b) After trying on the leggings at home (I bought them at a craft show where there wasn’t a change room), I have vowed never to wear them outside the house, even in the event of a fire where I’m wearing them and don’t have time to change my clothes.”
This is also a wonderful Helenism (and no, Grammarly, I don’t mean Hellenism):
“… shouldn’t the word to refer to a “palindrome” be itself a palindrome? Somebody completely missed the boat (probably a kayak) on that one.”
I love seeing the variety of people who might comment or like a post or photo of mine on social media. A recent post’s first responses came from my cousin’s cousin, my SIL’s (and our) university friend in Malaysia, an AFS friend from Thailand I haven’t seen for 35+ years, my American niece I haven’t seen (except for Skype) for over seven years, my AFS sister from Thailand, and a British blogger living in California whom I have never met. That just makes me smile.