Hello faithful readers.
Thank you for bearing with me this far. Some of you have come with me from Libramentum and some of you have joined me from Deviant Art. I love you all. Kiwimother, Dougie, Baltagalvis, Helkathon, Nick, Wayne, Ginge, Lorenzo and AidestheKiwi; I love you the most! I also love the late Maalie, Ju, Ngatapa, Simon and anyone else who reads me :D (I would love you as much as the first group if you commented more, though Maalie has an excuse...)
Now I have moved again. Please update your bookmarks (or create them if you haven't already!)
My website is: http://sezmeraldasparlour.gen.nz/
My blog is now http://sezmeraldasparlour.gen.nz/journal
Please go check it out to find more links of the website as I slowly get it constructed. I will not be returning to this version of the blog again until it is time to deactivate it.
Much love, Sez. xxSxx
Friday, August 12, 2011
Monday, August 8, 2011
Upcoming Changes - Edited for more info:
Hi All,
Tonight I have taken the first step in getting away from the monster that is Google. Gmail and blogspot will have to give way and soon my blog, my email and my photos will have their own website. Deviant Art will still be my go-to website for my development as an amateur photographer.
So watch this space for a link to the new site sometime in the near-to-mid future and those of us whose email I have, keep your eyes on your inboxes for my new address.
Best Wishes,
Sez
EDIT: For those of you who are interested in watching it all unfold (very slowly) check out my new home: Sezmeralda's Parlour.
Tonight I have taken the first step in getting away from the monster that is Google. Gmail and blogspot will have to give way and soon my blog, my email and my photos will have their own website. Deviant Art will still be my go-to website for my development as an amateur photographer.
So watch this space for a link to the new site sometime in the near-to-mid future and those of us whose email I have, keep your eyes on your inboxes for my new address.
Best Wishes,
Sez
EDIT: For those of you who are interested in watching it all unfold (very slowly) check out my new home: Sezmeralda's Parlour.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Two Pushups and a Deep Breath
As with any military arm the Royal New Zealand Air Force requires her air-men and -women (A&A) to be operationally fit at all times. This fitness is tested on a regular basis and failing the test has a few consequences that get steadily more serious the longer you take to pass until you're finally kicked out and have to find another job.
When I first joined it was called the Two-mile Run Test. It was pretty straight forward - run for two miles in under a given time. For a woman of seventeen to twenty nine years we had to complete it in under 17:30mins just to pass (an F2), or under 16:00 minutes for a superior (F1). Earning an F1 meant the test remained current for a year and the person wouldn't have to re-sit for a full twelve months. Those of us who could never quite make that sub-sixteen time were relegated to the ranks of the six-month re-tests. Frustratingly, at my most fit (in my life) I managed sixteen minutes and eleven seconds.
As time went by people began to question the run test. They believed it wasn't an accurate representation of a person's ability to perform 'in the field,' as it were. Someone who could run two miles in under twelve minutes wasn't necessarily capable of lugging a pack, a rifle and a whole lot of water around Afghanistan. So the test was changed to the Operational Fitness Test. F1 and F2 still have twelve- and six-month recurrences respectively, but the requirements for achieving each are a little different now.
Just to pass I need to pump out sixteen push ups followed immediately by a 5km walk with 20kg (10kg vest + 10kg belt) in under 46:30mins. A superior is 22 push ups and the walk in under 44:30 mins.
The push ups aren't just any old push ups either. They are ruthlessly enforced, they have to go low enough, they have to go high enough, they have to be continuous and the body can't be allowed to drop or rise out of alignment. Check out the Operational Fitness Test video on this page to see what they look like.
Now let me put it all into perspective for you:
Hi, my name is Sez. I like sitting in the sun, reading books, watching movies, kicking around on the internet and generally doing f-all. I enjoy food, especially ice cream and other desserts. I play cricket in the summer, but I'm not a strong batter so I don't really need to run around a lot. In fact I very much play a game of standing outside in the sunshine day dreaming for four hours. I hate running, and avoid it at all costs. When I was still playing hockey, I was the Goal Keeper. I only go to the gym when it's compulsory. Given a choice between going for a walk on the beach and playing a game of Guitar Hero, I will always choose the latter.
BUT! (and it's a big but!) As much as I hate exercise. As often as I feel sick and nervous when I remember on the way home that when I get there I have to "do my push ups" and as little cardio exercise as I do, yesterday I did 23 push ups and walked the 5km in 39:26.
Hi, my name is Sez. I have been in the Air Force for ten and a half years and yesterday I achieved my very first F1.
That is why every muscle in my body hurts like hell today.
When I first joined it was called the Two-mile Run Test. It was pretty straight forward - run for two miles in under a given time. For a woman of seventeen to twenty nine years we had to complete it in under 17:30mins just to pass (an F2), or under 16:00 minutes for a superior (F1). Earning an F1 meant the test remained current for a year and the person wouldn't have to re-sit for a full twelve months. Those of us who could never quite make that sub-sixteen time were relegated to the ranks of the six-month re-tests. Frustratingly, at my most fit (in my life) I managed sixteen minutes and eleven seconds.
As time went by people began to question the run test. They believed it wasn't an accurate representation of a person's ability to perform 'in the field,' as it were. Someone who could run two miles in under twelve minutes wasn't necessarily capable of lugging a pack, a rifle and a whole lot of water around Afghanistan. So the test was changed to the Operational Fitness Test. F1 and F2 still have twelve- and six-month recurrences respectively, but the requirements for achieving each are a little different now.
Just to pass I need to pump out sixteen push ups followed immediately by a 5km walk with 20kg (10kg vest + 10kg belt) in under 46:30mins. A superior is 22 push ups and the walk in under 44:30 mins.
The push ups aren't just any old push ups either. They are ruthlessly enforced, they have to go low enough, they have to go high enough, they have to be continuous and the body can't be allowed to drop or rise out of alignment. Check out the Operational Fitness Test video on this page to see what they look like.
Now let me put it all into perspective for you:
Hi, my name is Sez. I like sitting in the sun, reading books, watching movies, kicking around on the internet and generally doing f-all. I enjoy food, especially ice cream and other desserts. I play cricket in the summer, but I'm not a strong batter so I don't really need to run around a lot. In fact I very much play a game of standing outside in the sunshine day dreaming for four hours. I hate running, and avoid it at all costs. When I was still playing hockey, I was the Goal Keeper. I only go to the gym when it's compulsory. Given a choice between going for a walk on the beach and playing a game of Guitar Hero, I will always choose the latter.
BUT! (and it's a big but!) As much as I hate exercise. As often as I feel sick and nervous when I remember on the way home that when I get there I have to "do my push ups" and as little cardio exercise as I do, yesterday I did 23 push ups and walked the 5km in 39:26.
Hi, my name is Sez. I have been in the Air Force for ten and a half years and yesterday I achieved my very first F1.
That is why every muscle in my body hurts like hell today.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Chaos
Poem written for a friend. DA friends might have read it already :-)
Chaos
With a swirl and a twirl and a romp-stomp-slam
A slip and a slide and a crash-boom-bang
in the swinging, moving, pulsing mass is
a breathing puffing, pushing lass
she steps to the front and swerves to the right
her partner swings and she holds on tight
round they go and around again
through twirling, swirling women and men
he lets her go then he grabs her back
their legs keep movin' while their arms go slack
the crescendo builds and the pace gets hotter
she almost slips but he's still got'er
one more step, then a jump and FREEZE!
... and in the sudden silence, she laughs with glee.
He bows, she curtsey's, they smile at each other
he takes a breath: - "D'ya fancy another?"
Chaos
With a swirl and a twirl and a romp-stomp-slam
A slip and a slide and a crash-boom-bang
in the swinging, moving, pulsing mass is
a breathing puffing, pushing lass
she steps to the front and swerves to the right
her partner swings and she holds on tight
round they go and around again
through twirling, swirling women and men
he lets her go then he grabs her back
their legs keep movin' while their arms go slack
the crescendo builds and the pace gets hotter
she almost slips but he's still got'er
one more step, then a jump and FREEZE!
... and in the sudden silence, she laughs with glee.
He bows, she curtsey's, they smile at each other
he takes a breath: - "D'ya fancy another?"
Monday, July 25, 2011
Avid Reader, or "100 Books"
Found on someones profile page:
According to the BBC if you've read 7 of these, you are above the average!
The cynic in me is disinclined to believe that without further research. A fact isn't a fact until it's properly sourced (and by that I mean reliably sourced, if you know what I mean). Anyhoo, it looked like something I was able to brag about since reading is something I can actually do. Perhaps I should add a 'currently reading' column down the right hand side of the blog. What do you think about that?
Here they are, 100 books the BBC seems to think I haven't read. Bold are the books I've completed, and the ones I've read some of are in italics:
oo3. Jane Eyre - Charlotte Brontë
oo4. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire - JK Rowling [honestly, how old is this list?]
oo7. Wuthering Heights - Emily Brontë
o13. Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
o14. Complete Works of William Shakespeare
o15. Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
o16. The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien [Bam! there's me at the so-called 'average.' I think this is set up to make me feel good.]
o17. Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk
o21. Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
o22. The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
o23. Bleak House - Charles Dickens
o24. War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
o27. Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
o28. Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
o29. Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
o3o. The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
o31. Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
o32. David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
o37. The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
o38. Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
o44. A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
o45. The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
o46. Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
o47. Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
o48. The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
o51. Life of Pi - Yann Martel
o56. The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
o57. A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
o58. Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
o61. Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
o62. Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
o63. The Secret History - Donna Tartt
o64. The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
o65. Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
o66. On The Road - Jack Kerouac
o67. Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
o68. Bridget Jones' Diary - Helen Fielding
o69. Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
o7o. Moby Dick - Herman Melville
o71. Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
o72. Dracula - Bram Stoker
o73. The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
o76. The Inferno – Dante
o77. Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
o78. Germinal - Emile Zola
o79. Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray [I would have finished this but it wasn't mine and I wasn't fast enough.]
o8o. Possession - AS Byatt
o81. A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
o82. Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
o83. The Color Purple - Alice Walker
o84. The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
o85. Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
o86. A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
o9o. The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
o91. Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
o92. The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
o93. The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
o96. A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
Total: 27/100. And I totally did not count LW&W, not even once, even though The Chronicles of Narnia is composed of seven books and all together they only counted for one.
But anyway, none of you really cared what I've read. You all went through that list ticking off the ones you've read. So... how many? [And do you still believe 7 is the average?]
According to the BBC if you've read 7 of these, you are above the average!
The cynic in me is disinclined to believe that without further research. A fact isn't a fact until it's properly sourced (and by that I mean reliably sourced, if you know what I mean). Anyhoo, it looked like something I was able to brag about since reading is something I can actually do. Perhaps I should add a 'currently reading' column down the right hand side of the blog. What do you think about that?
Here they are, 100 books the BBC seems to think I haven't read. Bold are the books I've completed, and the ones I've read some of are in italics:
oo1. Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
oo2. The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkienoo3. Jane Eyre - Charlotte Brontë
oo4. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire - JK Rowling [honestly, how old is this list?]
oo5. To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
oo6. The Bibleoo7. Wuthering Heights - Emily Brontë
oo8. Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
oo9. His Dark Materials - Philip Pullmano1o. Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
o11. Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
o12. Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardyo13. Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
o14. Complete Works of William Shakespeare
o15. Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
o16. The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien [Bam! there's me at the so-called 'average.' I think this is set up to make me feel good.]
o17. Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk
o18. Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
o19. The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
o2o. Middlemarch - George Elioto21. Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
o22. The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
o23. Bleak House - Charles Dickens
o24. War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
o25. The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
o26. Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugho27. Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
o28. Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
o29. Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
o3o. The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
o31. Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
o32. David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
o33. Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
o34. Emma - Jane Austen
o35. Persuasion - Jane Austen
o36. The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis [Actually, this book is one of the books in the Chronicles of Narnia, so the list is doubling up on itself there. I guess only people who have read all books in the series would know that though.]o37. The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
o38. Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
o39. Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
o4o. Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
o41. Animal Farm - George Orwell
o42. The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
o43. One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquezo44. A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
o45. The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
o46. Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
o47. Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
o48. The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
o49. Lord of the Flies - William Golding
o5o. Atonement - Ian McEwano51. Life of Pi - Yann Martel
o52. Dune - Frank Herbert
o53. Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbonso54. Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
o55. A Suitable Boy - Vikram Setho56. The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
o57. A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
o58. Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
o59. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime - Mark Haddon
o6o. Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquezo61. Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
o62. Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
o63. The Secret History - Donna Tartt
o64. The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
o65. Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
o66. On The Road - Jack Kerouac
o67. Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
o68. Bridget Jones' Diary - Helen Fielding
o69. Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
o7o. Moby Dick - Herman Melville
o71. Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
o72. Dracula - Bram Stoker
o73. The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
o74. Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
o75. Ulysses - James Joyceo76. The Inferno – Dante
o77. Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
o78. Germinal - Emile Zola
o79. Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray [I would have finished this but it wasn't mine and I wasn't fast enough.]
o8o. Possession - AS Byatt
o81. A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
o82. Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
o83. The Color Purple - Alice Walker
o84. The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
o85. Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
o86. A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
o87. Charlotte's Web - EB White
o88. The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
o89. Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyleo9o. The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
o91. Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
o92. The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
o93. The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
o94. Watership Down - Richard Adams
o95. A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Tooleo96. A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
o97. The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
o98. Hamlet - William Shakespeareo99. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
1oo. Les Miserables - Victor HugoTotal: 27/100. And I totally did not count LW&W, not even once, even though The Chronicles of Narnia is composed of seven books and all together they only counted for one.
But anyway, none of you really cared what I've read. You all went through that list ticking off the ones you've read. So... how many? [And do you still believe 7 is the average?]
Friday, July 22, 2011
Edgar Allan ... er Pug?
I know most of you don't go to Deviant Art, but I spend quite a bit of time on that glorious website. There are a few artists there who I have a watch on, and any time they upload more pictures on to the website I am notified and can go look at them.
There is one particular artist called monaux who draws some quite amazing vignettes which can be in turn very funny or sad in a melancholy way. He creates other pieces as well and I strongly encourage you to view his gallery.
Here's something he gave me permission to put up here on the 'blog. I hope you love it as much as I do!!
.
There is one particular artist called monaux who draws some quite amazing vignettes which can be in turn very funny or sad in a melancholy way. He creates other pieces as well and I strongly encourage you to view his gallery.
Here's something he gave me permission to put up here on the 'blog. I hope you love it as much as I do!!
Original found here.
.
Monday, July 18, 2011
Hairy Maclarey
I grew up with these books, read to me so excitingly by my wonderful Mum, and as I've grown I've enjoyed being able to read them to other youngsters. I can't wait to read this and many more to all my nieces and nephews. Check out Hairy Maclarey on Wikipedia to see all the books. Apparently there have been over 5 million books sold, so I am guessing they're not just sold in NZ! I think I always liked Hairy Maclarey's Bone the best. (Don't say it Doug. I'm watching you.)
Now that you've seen the book, please vote on my poll. Tell your friends and get them voting too! Let's see what people are out there in the world!!
Now that you've seen the book, please vote on my poll. Tell your friends and get them voting too! Let's see what people are out there in the world!!
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Genuine, Gourmet, Ngatapa Walnuts
They are so exclusive you probably haven't heard of them. You cannot purchase them, one can only receive them as a gift. They are quite small but are packed with more tasty walnut flavour than you'd find in the stores. You will not find these anywhere else but New Zealand. I have a whole jar of them.
Or I did have.
I have discovered that one can't have one's jar of walnuts and eat them too.
Ngatapa Walnuts
Or I did have.
I have discovered that one can't have one's jar of walnuts and eat them too.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Suspending the Suspension
For most movies - especially fantasy movies - we put logic and reasoning on hold and forget that magic doesn't exist and that Bruce Willis probably isn't bulletproof. That's suspension of disbelief.
But have you ever stopped suspending your disbelief and thought - if only this happened, the whole movie would be completely different? I think we all have at some point, haven't we?
Will you suspend your suspension with me now and watch a clever little video about the Lord of the Rings which will leave you asking ... "Yeah - why didn't it happen that way?"
.
But have you ever stopped suspending your disbelief and thought - if only this happened, the whole movie would be completely different? I think we all have at some point, haven't we?
Will you suspend your suspension with me now and watch a clever little video about the Lord of the Rings which will leave you asking ... "Yeah - why didn't it happen that way?"
.
Friday, June 24, 2011
The Soup Remained In The Bowl - The Lies of a Dining In
A formal dining in is a military tradition which dates back further than most can remember. There are those who speculate it began in Roman times (ai, those Romans and their orgies!) but there's every reason to believe they could be older still. Even the Scandinavians liked to get together for a food, drink, poetry and a bit of fighting. And why not? What better way to solidify comradeship and loyalty than to share food and drink?
I say 'a military tradition' which is a little bit misleading. The Dining In is actually a collection of traditions which I will try to explain as best I can in this post. I conducted a quick internet search to see if I could find a good reference for dinings in but most of the information out there is referenced to American ceremonies. While they have all evolved from the same origin, theirs are a little different to ours. (For example, America also has dinings out.) In fact, even in New Zealand there are differences - the Royal New Zealand Navy and the Royal New Zealand Air Force have different traditions, and even within the Air Force there are differences between the Officers' Mess and the W/O's and SNCO's Mess.
(W/O's and SNCO's [pronounced woe's and snow's] stands for Warrant Officers and Senior Non-Commissioned Officers)
Dinings in are held for a number of reasons. They can be to celebrate historical milestones - Armistice Day, Black Thursday, etc - or to formally celebrate the career of a member who is leaving the service. They can also be held just for the hell of it. Held because the squadron wants to, because it's good for morale, because we're a damn fine Air Force and why shouldn't we celebrate?
But enough talk - lets get to the action!
Thursday night was the night when Avionics Squadron (Auckland) was holding its Formal Mixed Dining In. 'Mixed' means all ranks are able to attend, and so they did. I am not a member of Avionics Squadron, but was invited as a guest of Ginge, who is. The dining in follows a fairly strict order of business and begins with pre-meal sherries at the bar. Dress is ceremonial - what we call "Service Dress" for the junior ranks, and "Mess Kit" for the seniors and officers.
The sherries are used to 'stimulate the palate' for better enjoyment of the meal to come and traditionally no other beverage is permitted to be imbibed at this juncture. Times do change though, and some will also purchase beer as well. At this point the seating plans are displayed or circulated so that when the time comes there will be a minimum of fuss before the first course.
After sherries we move into the dining area and are seated. The main lights are off and the tables are lit with candles only. Each place has a small placard with the person's name on it and we all stand behind our seats waiting for everyone to file in. When the VIPs have filed in and are at their place at the high-table, we sit. Men always hold the seat out for the women. (I would use the terms gentlemen and ladies, but as I said... times change). I had to clear my throat deliberately to remind Ginge. At this point it is prudent to take one's name card and put it in a pocket somewhere.
Let me talk about the layout of the tables and personages.
For this, and most, dining in there were three 'tables.' The high table across the top - similar to a wedding - where the most important people sit. These are the squadron commander, the squadron warrant officer, the guest speaker and their guests (if invited). Sometimes a junior member of the squadron will also be sat at this table, but not tonight. From each end of the high table extends the other two tables so as to form a rectangular 'U' shape. These tables must be positioned 'at least two sword lengths' from each other. It's an interesting choice of measurement and I will explain why later on. (Yes, there's a reason - did I mention 'heavily laced with tradition' earlier on? Well I should have.)
Behind the commander/high table are the Flag of New Zealand and the Royal New Zealand Air Force Ensign framing a picture of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II the Queen of England.
As the commander looks down the room with a table on either side, the table on his right has people seated only down the sides, with no one on the end. But the table on his left has a place-setting on the far end. In this seat resides Mr (or Madame) Vice. Often Mr Vice is the youngest person at the dining in but once again - not in this case. If there were more people, another table may be run down the length from the centre of the high-table, always keeping two sword lengths between. Again, only Mr Vice may be seated at the end of the table.
Back to the action now, and the squadron commander asks Mr Vice for the Grace. Steve had written a special Grace for the evening, and I would love to write it out here for you now, but I haven't gotten a copy of it yet so watch this space. Needless to say it had us chuckling. Next up - the food.
The dining in is usually a five course meal - soup; entree; main; dessert; coffee, cheese & crackers. Places are set with a white wine glass, a red wine glass, a water tumbler and a sherry/port glass. Servers come and replenish the wine and water all evening so a person is able to drink as much as they want.
Food is served first to the high table, then down the line, and no one may begin until the high table has begun. It can be a challenge to sit and look at your delicious meal and not so much as breathe on it until the squadron commander has lifted his first fork-full to his mouth.
My memory is a little hazy as to the particular details, but I believe the first toilet break comes after the entree. Did I mention no one is permitted to leave the room, or even rise from her seat, unless it's a toilet break? Well we can't. And they're still topping up those wine glasses!
The toilet break is a risky business. Should one 'break the seal' and risk needing to go again later on, or hold on and risk really needing to go later on? And what about all the accoutrement's at the place setting? If I should leave now for the toilet, I might come back to find my knife, fork, spoon or port glass isn't there anymore. What do I do then? I can't leave the table and go looking for them, or shout about it, or.... do anything. As I said - it's a risky business. For the first break I decided I was fine, and stayed at the table.
By this stage, the fines are beginning to come out. Remember how I said it was prudent to hide my name card away? As soon as people left the table for the toilet we started collecting their name-tags. We use them to write down anything they've done or said during the course of the evening to warrant a (humourous) fine. These are passed along the table, across the high table, and along the next all the way to Mr Vice for safekeeping. It's etiquette not to read the fine on the way past. It is possibly the only piece of etiquette not strictly adhered to. Some folks are more inventive than using name cards and rip corners of their paper place mats. Jimmy looked around him with a devious eye and asked if anyone had a pen? Andy replied in the affirmative and handed his biro over. Jimmy thanked him with glee, put the pen in his pocket and said "You won't be able to fine me for anything now." The tricks we learn...
Returning late from the toilet break is a fineable offence - and embarrassing to boot, so we were all back and ready to go for the next round. Mains, Drinks, Fines, Dessert, Fines, Chatter, Laughter, Drink, Fun, Drink, and finally another toilet break, and a quick word in Mr Vice's ear.
Shit, I forgot to take my port glass with me. Thank goodness it was there when I got back - Ginge had rescued it from theft. Mike was not so lucky.
Again I'm a little hazy on the exact details, but I think at this point he cheeseboards came out, the coffee was served along with the choice of Drambuie or Baileys shots - or both. Mike recovered a port glass - his or not, I'm not sure. He poured his Drambuie into his coffee.
The speeches came - we laughed - the speeches went, and then the tables were cleared.
Cleared of everything but the candles and the port glasses, for now we had come to the ceremony of the passing of the port.
The passing of the port is conducted in absolute silence.
There are two schools of thought on this one. The one I remember being taught, and the one I learnt that Thursday. The latter preaches that the silence while passing the port is a relatively new development and one specific to the RNZAF or the Air Force, or the non-commissioned ranks, or something, and relates to a dining in which was scheduled during one of the two World Wars. The dining in was held, but not everyone could make it. Comrades had fallen only days before - they failed to make it back from a sortie - and the port was passed in silence in their honour. If this is the original reason or not, it's a worthy cause, and it was at the forefront of my mind as the ceremony played out.
But lets back track a little. What is the passing of the port, and what is it for? It is the precursor to the loyal toast, and carafe's of port are started at one end of each table and passed from person to person to fill their port glasses which have thus-far remained empty. See why it's important not to lose yours? The port is poured, then the pourer passes the carafe from his left hand into the left hand of the next fellow. Men usually pour for their female guests. Ginge asked what I would prefer and I asked, as a serving member of Her Majesties NZ Armed Forces, to pour my own. In the Air Force, the carafe is not permitted to touch the table. I have been told that Air Force officers don't hold this tradition, or the tradition of silence, and it can take a long time for the port to make its way round. The Navy hold the tradition of silence, but they slam the carafe to the table and slide it forcefully over to the next person. Our guest speaker was from the Navy and that's exactly what he did. We each have our own reasons for these methods.
The Navy is an old, old service and was once the pride of the British Empire. Sailors would spend most of their adult life on board the ship in cramped conditions with barely any head-room. They would still hold dinings in and serve the loyal toast, but the motion of the ship would make the passing of the port a difficult action - especially if they weren't permitted to let it touch the table. But they are. They slam the bottle down and slide it to the next man. If the ship is rocking from the ocean (and when won't it?) this is the safest way to pass the port.
Our (Air Force) tradition stems from the British Army, and a lot of little things have arisen out of the English takeover of Scotland. It was not a peaceful merger - or indeed a merger at all - for a long time. The Scots resented the English even as they had to sit or stand next to them for ceremonies such as these. Why mustn't the port touch the table? Why must it be conducted in silence (the version I was taught)? And why left-hand to left-hand? The answer to all three - to prevent fights.
Silence so arguments cannot break out. Off the table to ensure hands are always occupied. And left-hands because a Scotsman's left hand is his dirk hand.
They fought with swords in their right and dirk's in their left. As I understand it, the English got a bit sick of their Scottish officers passing the port with their right hand and sticking the officer next to him in the side with a big sharp knife. So yeah, left-hand only, even for us hundreds of years later.
That brings us back to the table distances - at least two sword lengths apart. Make sense now?
But what about the clearing of the tables? There's more to it than a modern-day military need for ship-shape and squared-away. The most important thing to be removed from the table is water. Once again this comes back to the Scots. After the first and failed Jacobean uprising Bonnie Prince Charlie took off and was exiled in France. Although we wasn't technically their king, many were still loyal to him and he could be thought of as their king across the water. Hold that thought while I progress to the loyal toast.
The loyal toast is very simple. We're toasting the Queen because we are loyal to her. We are in her armed forces, we serve her as we serve our country. It's kind of the whole point. So, after the passing of the port we stand, turn to the picture of Her Majesty, raise our glasses, and the squadron commander says "Ladies and Gentlemen, the Queen." We reply, "The Queen." and drink our toast.
Of course back in the day, the loyal toast was raised to the King. The King of England. I don't need to tell you what the Scots thought of this. They devised a bit of a loophole. The would raised their glasses and make the reply - "The King." Then they would pass their glass over any water which was on the table - bowl, glass or carafe, and then drink. It was their way of toasting the king across the water. Loyal? Yes, but not a loyalty directed at the English king. And now, centuries later, we still remove water from the table before the loyal toast.
After the toast the serving staff are thanked, a birthday message was delivered (and happy birthday sung) then the VIPs left the dining hall and returned to the bar. Once they had left we sat back down and Mr Vice reigned supreme. It was fine-time!
It would be rude of me to share all the fines - and not so funny if you don't know the people and you weren't there. But there was one very odd fine indeed. Read out, it went like this:
"Ginge is fined for spilling his soup all over his partners skirt.." (pause for laughter) "... then trying to clean her lap with his napkin."
There was no laughter from our side of the table, only confused looks. What? Ginge never spilt his soup, I'm his guest not his partner and he never tried anything on with me. Steve (Mr Vice) was beside himself with mirth so we didn't argue. Jimmy said he had sent a fine along the table stating Ginge had splattered his soup so we guessed people had been adding and embellishing the fine as it progressed. Ginge was fined $10.
The money from the fines goes into a couple of jars and is put on the bar for the rest of the evening. We returned to said bar to find the VIPs well settled in and joined them for the rest of the evening.
Morale booster - Check!
Celebration - Check!
Great night out - Check!
And where did all the money come from, some of you might ask, to pay for such an extravagant night out. I can guarantee it was not from public funds. Those boys and girls from Avionics Sqn pay fortnightly into the social club - out of their own pockets. The Social Club saved up and paid for it, plus tickets cost members an additional fee.
Ginge paid for me.
Isn't he nice?
I say 'a military tradition' which is a little bit misleading. The Dining In is actually a collection of traditions which I will try to explain as best I can in this post. I conducted a quick internet search to see if I could find a good reference for dinings in but most of the information out there is referenced to American ceremonies. While they have all evolved from the same origin, theirs are a little different to ours. (For example, America also has dinings out.) In fact, even in New Zealand there are differences - the Royal New Zealand Navy and the Royal New Zealand Air Force have different traditions, and even within the Air Force there are differences between the Officers' Mess and the W/O's and SNCO's Mess.
(W/O's and SNCO's [pronounced woe's and snow's] stands for Warrant Officers and Senior Non-Commissioned Officers)
Dinings in are held for a number of reasons. They can be to celebrate historical milestones - Armistice Day, Black Thursday, etc - or to formally celebrate the career of a member who is leaving the service. They can also be held just for the hell of it. Held because the squadron wants to, because it's good for morale, because we're a damn fine Air Force and why shouldn't we celebrate?
But enough talk - lets get to the action!
Thursday night was the night when Avionics Squadron (Auckland) was holding its Formal Mixed Dining In. 'Mixed' means all ranks are able to attend, and so they did. I am not a member of Avionics Squadron, but was invited as a guest of Ginge, who is. The dining in follows a fairly strict order of business and begins with pre-meal sherries at the bar. Dress is ceremonial - what we call "Service Dress" for the junior ranks, and "Mess Kit" for the seniors and officers.
Service Dress (or SDs)
Mess Kit
The sherries are used to 'stimulate the palate' for better enjoyment of the meal to come and traditionally no other beverage is permitted to be imbibed at this juncture. Times do change though, and some will also purchase beer as well. At this point the seating plans are displayed or circulated so that when the time comes there will be a minimum of fuss before the first course.
After sherries we move into the dining area and are seated. The main lights are off and the tables are lit with candles only. Each place has a small placard with the person's name on it and we all stand behind our seats waiting for everyone to file in. When the VIPs have filed in and are at their place at the high-table, we sit. Men always hold the seat out for the women. (I would use the terms gentlemen and ladies, but as I said... times change). I had to clear my throat deliberately to remind Ginge. At this point it is prudent to take one's name card and put it in a pocket somewhere.
Let me talk about the layout of the tables and personages.
For this, and most, dining in there were three 'tables.' The high table across the top - similar to a wedding - where the most important people sit. These are the squadron commander, the squadron warrant officer, the guest speaker and their guests (if invited). Sometimes a junior member of the squadron will also be sat at this table, but not tonight. From each end of the high table extends the other two tables so as to form a rectangular 'U' shape. These tables must be positioned 'at least two sword lengths' from each other. It's an interesting choice of measurement and I will explain why later on. (Yes, there's a reason - did I mention 'heavily laced with tradition' earlier on? Well I should have.)
Behind the commander/high table are the Flag of New Zealand and the Royal New Zealand Air Force Ensign framing a picture of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II the Queen of England.
As the commander looks down the room with a table on either side, the table on his right has people seated only down the sides, with no one on the end. But the table on his left has a place-setting on the far end. In this seat resides Mr (or Madame) Vice. Often Mr Vice is the youngest person at the dining in but once again - not in this case. If there were more people, another table may be run down the length from the centre of the high-table, always keeping two sword lengths between. Again, only Mr Vice may be seated at the end of the table.
Back to the action now, and the squadron commander asks Mr Vice for the Grace. Steve had written a special Grace for the evening, and I would love to write it out here for you now, but I haven't gotten a copy of it yet so watch this space. Needless to say it had us chuckling. Next up - the food.
The dining in is usually a five course meal - soup; entree; main; dessert; coffee, cheese & crackers. Places are set with a white wine glass, a red wine glass, a water tumbler and a sherry/port glass. Servers come and replenish the wine and water all evening so a person is able to drink as much as they want.
Food is served first to the high table, then down the line, and no one may begin until the high table has begun. It can be a challenge to sit and look at your delicious meal and not so much as breathe on it until the squadron commander has lifted his first fork-full to his mouth.
My memory is a little hazy as to the particular details, but I believe the first toilet break comes after the entree. Did I mention no one is permitted to leave the room, or even rise from her seat, unless it's a toilet break? Well we can't. And they're still topping up those wine glasses!
The toilet break is a risky business. Should one 'break the seal' and risk needing to go again later on, or hold on and risk really needing to go later on? And what about all the accoutrement's at the place setting? If I should leave now for the toilet, I might come back to find my knife, fork, spoon or port glass isn't there anymore. What do I do then? I can't leave the table and go looking for them, or shout about it, or.... do anything. As I said - it's a risky business. For the first break I decided I was fine, and stayed at the table.
By this stage, the fines are beginning to come out. Remember how I said it was prudent to hide my name card away? As soon as people left the table for the toilet we started collecting their name-tags. We use them to write down anything they've done or said during the course of the evening to warrant a (humourous) fine. These are passed along the table, across the high table, and along the next all the way to Mr Vice for safekeeping. It's etiquette not to read the fine on the way past. It is possibly the only piece of etiquette not strictly adhered to. Some folks are more inventive than using name cards and rip corners of their paper place mats. Jimmy looked around him with a devious eye and asked if anyone had a pen? Andy replied in the affirmative and handed his biro over. Jimmy thanked him with glee, put the pen in his pocket and said "You won't be able to fine me for anything now." The tricks we learn...
Returning late from the toilet break is a fineable offence - and embarrassing to boot, so we were all back and ready to go for the next round. Mains, Drinks, Fines, Dessert, Fines, Chatter, Laughter, Drink, Fun, Drink, and finally another toilet break, and a quick word in Mr Vice's ear.
Shit, I forgot to take my port glass with me. Thank goodness it was there when I got back - Ginge had rescued it from theft. Mike was not so lucky.
Again I'm a little hazy on the exact details, but I think at this point he cheeseboards came out, the coffee was served along with the choice of Drambuie or Baileys shots - or both. Mike recovered a port glass - his or not, I'm not sure. He poured his Drambuie into his coffee.
The speeches came - we laughed - the speeches went, and then the tables were cleared.
Cleared of everything but the candles and the port glasses, for now we had come to the ceremony of the passing of the port.
The passing of the port is conducted in absolute silence.
There are two schools of thought on this one. The one I remember being taught, and the one I learnt that Thursday. The latter preaches that the silence while passing the port is a relatively new development and one specific to the RNZAF or the Air Force, or the non-commissioned ranks, or something, and relates to a dining in which was scheduled during one of the two World Wars. The dining in was held, but not everyone could make it. Comrades had fallen only days before - they failed to make it back from a sortie - and the port was passed in silence in their honour. If this is the original reason or not, it's a worthy cause, and it was at the forefront of my mind as the ceremony played out.
But lets back track a little. What is the passing of the port, and what is it for? It is the precursor to the loyal toast, and carafe's of port are started at one end of each table and passed from person to person to fill their port glasses which have thus-far remained empty. See why it's important not to lose yours? The port is poured, then the pourer passes the carafe from his left hand into the left hand of the next fellow. Men usually pour for their female guests. Ginge asked what I would prefer and I asked, as a serving member of Her Majesties NZ Armed Forces, to pour my own. In the Air Force, the carafe is not permitted to touch the table. I have been told that Air Force officers don't hold this tradition, or the tradition of silence, and it can take a long time for the port to make its way round. The Navy hold the tradition of silence, but they slam the carafe to the table and slide it forcefully over to the next person. Our guest speaker was from the Navy and that's exactly what he did. We each have our own reasons for these methods.
The Navy is an old, old service and was once the pride of the British Empire. Sailors would spend most of their adult life on board the ship in cramped conditions with barely any head-room. They would still hold dinings in and serve the loyal toast, but the motion of the ship would make the passing of the port a difficult action - especially if they weren't permitted to let it touch the table. But they are. They slam the bottle down and slide it to the next man. If the ship is rocking from the ocean (and when won't it?) this is the safest way to pass the port.
Our (Air Force) tradition stems from the British Army, and a lot of little things have arisen out of the English takeover of Scotland. It was not a peaceful merger - or indeed a merger at all - for a long time. The Scots resented the English even as they had to sit or stand next to them for ceremonies such as these. Why mustn't the port touch the table? Why must it be conducted in silence (the version I was taught)? And why left-hand to left-hand? The answer to all three - to prevent fights.
Silence so arguments cannot break out. Off the table to ensure hands are always occupied. And left-hands because a Scotsman's left hand is his dirk hand.
They fought with swords in their right and dirk's in their left. As I understand it, the English got a bit sick of their Scottish officers passing the port with their right hand and sticking the officer next to him in the side with a big sharp knife. So yeah, left-hand only, even for us hundreds of years later.
That brings us back to the table distances - at least two sword lengths apart. Make sense now?
But what about the clearing of the tables? There's more to it than a modern-day military need for ship-shape and squared-away. The most important thing to be removed from the table is water. Once again this comes back to the Scots. After the first and failed Jacobean uprising Bonnie Prince Charlie took off and was exiled in France. Although we wasn't technically their king, many were still loyal to him and he could be thought of as their king across the water. Hold that thought while I progress to the loyal toast.
The loyal toast is very simple. We're toasting the Queen because we are loyal to her. We are in her armed forces, we serve her as we serve our country. It's kind of the whole point. So, after the passing of the port we stand, turn to the picture of Her Majesty, raise our glasses, and the squadron commander says "Ladies and Gentlemen, the Queen." We reply, "The Queen." and drink our toast.
Of course back in the day, the loyal toast was raised to the King. The King of England. I don't need to tell you what the Scots thought of this. They devised a bit of a loophole. The would raised their glasses and make the reply - "The King." Then they would pass their glass over any water which was on the table - bowl, glass or carafe, and then drink. It was their way of toasting the king across the water. Loyal? Yes, but not a loyalty directed at the English king. And now, centuries later, we still remove water from the table before the loyal toast.
After the toast the serving staff are thanked, a birthday message was delivered (and happy birthday sung) then the VIPs left the dining hall and returned to the bar. Once they had left we sat back down and Mr Vice reigned supreme. It was fine-time!
It would be rude of me to share all the fines - and not so funny if you don't know the people and you weren't there. But there was one very odd fine indeed. Read out, it went like this:
"Ginge is fined for spilling his soup all over his partners skirt.." (pause for laughter) "... then trying to clean her lap with his napkin."
There was no laughter from our side of the table, only confused looks. What? Ginge never spilt his soup, I'm his guest not his partner and he never tried anything on with me. Steve (Mr Vice) was beside himself with mirth so we didn't argue. Jimmy said he had sent a fine along the table stating Ginge had splattered his soup so we guessed people had been adding and embellishing the fine as it progressed. Ginge was fined $10.
The money from the fines goes into a couple of jars and is put on the bar for the rest of the evening. We returned to said bar to find the VIPs well settled in and joined them for the rest of the evening.
Morale booster - Check!
Celebration - Check!
Great night out - Check!
And where did all the money come from, some of you might ask, to pay for such an extravagant night out. I can guarantee it was not from public funds. Those boys and girls from Avionics Sqn pay fortnightly into the social club - out of their own pockets. The Social Club saved up and paid for it, plus tickets cost members an additional fee.
Ginge paid for me.
Isn't he nice?
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Walter's Not Dead!
I admit I was starting to get worried. I never thought that I might have eaten him (Nick, I'm looking at you) but I did wonder if he'd moved on for the winter. I was excited to see that's not the case, and my shy wee friend Walter is still with me.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
The Cotton Club
As some of you know I have taken up Swing Dancing by way of Lindy Hop lessons run by an outfit called Jitterbugs. I'd always been interested in the dance style - in an academic way - but when I went to Perth nearer the start of the year I was able to see some first-hand and realised this was more than half a fancy.
Upon my return I mentioned this off-hand to my best friend Rachie (still need a code-name for her!). She replied enthusiastically that her flatmate Johnno did swing dance and did I want her to to find out where he went for lessons? So it was that I joined Johnno at Jitterbugs. Well, I sort of joined him. First I didn't tell him I was going - I just turned up to the Lindy 1 class, and as he turned up at the end of my lesson for his Lindy 4 class he was surprised to see me there!! Now he comes a little earlier to join in and have a wee social dance with me between classes. Isn't he lovely!?
I have managed now six lessons - the first time I dragged The Agent with me and had to dance lead. The second time I took The Ginge and learned the part of a follow. Third time I invited a salsa-dancing South African and was follow again. For lesson number four I turned up on my own and opted to take the lead again making it 50/50. Mean skillz huh?! It wasn't the easiest to get away from work in order to make these lessons. I have to take roughly two to 2.5 hours off work every second Wednesday, and this means I need to have already worked those hours somewhere else. (We are given Time Off In Lieu - TOIL, for every hour of overtime we work. If we haven't clocked up extra hours, we don't get to take them off). So far it's worked out okay and I still have 4 hours I can take for the next two night shifts, but it might be getting a little tricky after that.
Anyway, here I was having learnt the lead twice and learnt the follow twice and I decided I'd quite like to keep the pattern. By learning to lead I was becoming a better follow, and I certainly hope the reverse is also true. The people at the class are all smiley, happy people, and I really enjoy the atmosphere as well as the dancing - it's all a lot of fun. So after learning the follower's part for my fifth lesson I decided I was keen to join them all at the Point Chevalier Returned Services Association (Or Pt Chev RSA) for a two-monthly event they call The Cotton Club.
Although it was $20 at the door to get in, I invited Rachel to come with me and she was keen so on the night I picked her and Johnno up from their flat and off we went. The theme was Black & White and while I'm not one for wearing dresses I was keen to put some effort in so I wore black shirt and pants with white braces and a white tie. I also have a mock-fedora style hat I picked up from an emporium for about $5 so I wore that too. I flatter myself that I did look quite dashing (just call me Jo March). Johnno had a very nice-looking waist-coat and tie and Rachel was lovely in a dress which definitely looked the part.
Everyone's dancing skill was well above my own. Even Rachie, who's only lesson was the half-hour quick intro on the night, picked it up like a duck to water. I practiced my social dancing as lead by taking Rachie out for some unimaginative spins on the floor and tried not to trip on my toes when Johnno, Matt or another would ask me up and I had to do everything off the other foot.
But the music was simply divine - a live jazz band - and the dancers were a glory to watch. It really solidified in my mind that this is definitely something I want to do. I am enjoying the little bit that I do know, and I am looking forward to being able to dance like this:
Yep, that's the Cotton Club at the Pt Chev RSA. I took that video myself, can you tell? I am, if nothing else, a professional ;-) Watch this space though - in four years time it should be me dancing like that!!
Upon my return I mentioned this off-hand to my best friend Rachie (still need a code-name for her!). She replied enthusiastically that her flatmate Johnno did swing dance and did I want her to to find out where he went for lessons? So it was that I joined Johnno at Jitterbugs. Well, I sort of joined him. First I didn't tell him I was going - I just turned up to the Lindy 1 class, and as he turned up at the end of my lesson for his Lindy 4 class he was surprised to see me there!! Now he comes a little earlier to join in and have a wee social dance with me between classes. Isn't he lovely!?
I have managed now six lessons - the first time I dragged The Agent with me and had to dance lead. The second time I took The Ginge and learned the part of a follow. Third time I invited a salsa-dancing South African and was follow again. For lesson number four I turned up on my own and opted to take the lead again making it 50/50. Mean skillz huh?! It wasn't the easiest to get away from work in order to make these lessons. I have to take roughly two to 2.5 hours off work every second Wednesday, and this means I need to have already worked those hours somewhere else. (We are given Time Off In Lieu - TOIL, for every hour of overtime we work. If we haven't clocked up extra hours, we don't get to take them off). So far it's worked out okay and I still have 4 hours I can take for the next two night shifts, but it might be getting a little tricky after that.
Anyway, here I was having learnt the lead twice and learnt the follow twice and I decided I'd quite like to keep the pattern. By learning to lead I was becoming a better follow, and I certainly hope the reverse is also true. The people at the class are all smiley, happy people, and I really enjoy the atmosphere as well as the dancing - it's all a lot of fun. So after learning the follower's part for my fifth lesson I decided I was keen to join them all at the Point Chevalier Returned Services Association (Or Pt Chev RSA) for a two-monthly event they call The Cotton Club.
Although it was $20 at the door to get in, I invited Rachel to come with me and she was keen so on the night I picked her and Johnno up from their flat and off we went. The theme was Black & White and while I'm not one for wearing dresses I was keen to put some effort in so I wore black shirt and pants with white braces and a white tie. I also have a mock-fedora style hat I picked up from an emporium for about $5 so I wore that too. I flatter myself that I did look quite dashing (just call me Jo March). Johnno had a very nice-looking waist-coat and tie and Rachel was lovely in a dress which definitely looked the part.
Everyone's dancing skill was well above my own. Even Rachie, who's only lesson was the half-hour quick intro on the night, picked it up like a duck to water. I practiced my social dancing as lead by taking Rachie out for some unimaginative spins on the floor and tried not to trip on my toes when Johnno, Matt or another would ask me up and I had to do everything off the other foot.
But the music was simply divine - a live jazz band - and the dancers were a glory to watch. It really solidified in my mind that this is definitely something I want to do. I am enjoying the little bit that I do know, and I am looking forward to being able to dance like this:
Yep, that's the Cotton Club at the Pt Chev RSA. I took that video myself, can you tell? I am, if nothing else, a professional ;-) Watch this space though - in four years time it should be me dancing like that!!
Friday, June 17, 2011
Queen's Birthday Weekend
Here I am at last writing about my Queen's Birthday Weekend. It was some time ago now - 4th-6th June - it's just that I've been fairly busy in the meantime and haven't taken a moment out to fill you all in.
My friends Jamo and Megs, and their son (my Godson), moved to Wellington last year and I have no longer been able to drop in and visit once or twice a week on my way home from work. I miss them a lot and so I thought I would make an effort to be with Megs on her birthday this year. I called her up and asked what she was up to and would she have me. Megs and her husband Jamo had already made plans to be with his parents for the weekend but it was a very simple business to organise to fly to New Plymouth on the Saturday, travel with them back to Wellington on Monday, the day of her birthday, and fly back to Auckland on Tuesday. Because it's a long weekend (or as the British would say, a bank holiday) I only had to take annual leave for Tuesday.
The flight down was rather uneventful which was a pity because the weather had been somewhat wild and I'd heard the plane had been subject to severe turbulence on its way up. I love turbulence so was disappointed to have missed it.
Now, we didn't really get up to anything spectacular over the weekend - there were no shows or sports events or games of backyard cricket to rave about. It was just a nice, slow, relaxing weekend with friends. On Sunday we went out for a walk with friends and dogs. I didn't take any photos because like a fool I left my camera back at the house. This was a mistake because New Plymouth has an amazing footbridge on the way to the beach which was begging to be photographed and I was gutted to miss the opportunity to do so. That night the same friends came round for dinner and Pete and I ended up spending the majority of the night playing with the little wooden train set I had bought my Godson so there was plenty of fun to be had by all!
The Wee Man (Godson's official nickname) was such a darling and it wasn't long before he had (once again) stolen my heart. He would climb up onto the chair with me and hand me his favourite book of fairy tales to read. I wish I could say I spent all my time reading to him, but he was always more interested in looking at the pictures and turning the pages for himself. Finally he would close the covers and declare "Ah-Duh!" which meant 'All done!' clamber back down off my lap and continue causing his usual havoc. We played plenty of games of chase and I was offered lots of hugs and snuggles. By the end of the weekend he was making sounds which his mother translated to be 'Auntie Sez.' For a 15 month old he was doing well!!
What else can I say? It was a wonderful weekend and I loved spending time with my good friends and my special Wee Man. Conversation with people who know me so well is therapeutic so it was as good for me to be there as it was for Megs to have me down for her birthday! If you're interested in seeing the photos of flowers I took after the rains then check out my Deviant Art Account.
(I'm still trying to upload the dancing video, so more on that later.)
My friends Jamo and Megs, and their son (my Godson), moved to Wellington last year and I have no longer been able to drop in and visit once or twice a week on my way home from work. I miss them a lot and so I thought I would make an effort to be with Megs on her birthday this year. I called her up and asked what she was up to and would she have me. Megs and her husband Jamo had already made plans to be with his parents for the weekend but it was a very simple business to organise to fly to New Plymouth on the Saturday, travel with them back to Wellington on Monday, the day of her birthday, and fly back to Auckland on Tuesday. Because it's a long weekend (or as the British would say, a bank holiday) I only had to take annual leave for Tuesday.
The flight down was rather uneventful which was a pity because the weather had been somewhat wild and I'd heard the plane had been subject to severe turbulence on its way up. I love turbulence so was disappointed to have missed it.
Now, we didn't really get up to anything spectacular over the weekend - there were no shows or sports events or games of backyard cricket to rave about. It was just a nice, slow, relaxing weekend with friends. On Sunday we went out for a walk with friends and dogs. I didn't take any photos because like a fool I left my camera back at the house. This was a mistake because New Plymouth has an amazing footbridge on the way to the beach which was begging to be photographed and I was gutted to miss the opportunity to do so. That night the same friends came round for dinner and Pete and I ended up spending the majority of the night playing with the little wooden train set I had bought my Godson so there was plenty of fun to be had by all!
Little Toys for Big Kids!
The Wee Man (Godson's official nickname) was such a darling and it wasn't long before he had (once again) stolen my heart. He would climb up onto the chair with me and hand me his favourite book of fairy tales to read. I wish I could say I spent all my time reading to him, but he was always more interested in looking at the pictures and turning the pages for himself. Finally he would close the covers and declare "Ah-Duh!" which meant 'All done!' clamber back down off my lap and continue causing his usual havoc. We played plenty of games of chase and I was offered lots of hugs and snuggles. By the end of the weekend he was making sounds which his mother translated to be 'Auntie Sez.' For a 15 month old he was doing well!!
The Wee Man helps with household chores.
No table is too high for The Wee Man!
Auntie Sez and The Wee Man read together
What else can I say? It was a wonderful weekend and I loved spending time with my good friends and my special Wee Man. Conversation with people who know me so well is therapeutic so it was as good for me to be there as it was for Megs to have me down for her birthday! If you're interested in seeing the photos of flowers I took after the rains then check out my Deviant Art Account.
(I'm still trying to upload the dancing video, so more on that later.)
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Vintage Ads for Modern Products
One website I enjoy stalking is Cracked.com. It's a humour website and under the title Pointless Waste of Time they run photo manipulation competitions they call "Photoplasty." Every week they put up three subjects and readers of the site can post their submissions. The best are displayed and the #1 picture wins money. Recently I had a good chuckle looking through 26 Old-Timey Ads for Modern Products and I thought I would share a couple of the good ones with you so that you, too, can laugh away while I find the time to write about my Queens Birthday weekend and upload a video from my night at The Cotton Club.
I hope you are sufficiently tantalised about my upcoming posts. Now here's the funnies:
Tomorrow night I have a formal dining in (look it up) and then I have taken Friday off to recover. Friday night I hope to be watching the new movie Green Lantern with friends, so watch this space.
(this one. right here. watch it. waaaatch iiit!).
I hope you are sufficiently tantalised about my upcoming posts. Now here's the funnies:
by Alaisin13
by maas
by DarrenJames
by egaeus
Tomorrow night I have a formal dining in (look it up) and then I have taken Friday off to recover. Friday night I hope to be watching the new movie Green Lantern with friends, so watch this space.
(this one. right here. watch it. waaaatch iiit!).
Thursday, May 26, 2011
2nd Hand Gems
Found in the Sallies at The Mount:
How awesome do you have to be before you get your own orchestra?
Jim was always one of my Granma's favourites, and my parents have this record. Just seeing the cover reminds me of the music of my childhood.
Neil is so fantastic, and sparkly, I had to include his backside too. ;-)
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Sezmeralda and the Agent of Trouble
(1st Edition)
Sezmeralda and the Agent of Trouble
In the City of Sails, in Jafa-land
where the weather is just a game
there hides a modern witch-like woman
and Sezmeralda is her name.
She came from further south
and she's a strange one it is true.
She lives in a cave on the edge of town,
her friends are good but few.
She is a bit like a Discworld witch:-
a practical woman, though grumpy.
Her friends turn to her now and again
when their own roads get too bumpy.
Her magic is music and song and dance
and a damn good listening ear
and though she's reclusive she cares a lot
and can be called on through the year.
One evening she left her cave
for a night of jovial drinking
and that is where she met The Agent
who asked her "Vat are you sinking?"
The Agent had a merry eye
and a funny, mischievous nature
and although her name was Trouble,
Sezmeralda just couldn't hate her.
The two were very different
and yet somehow the same,
The Agent was a people person
while Sez forgot their names,
They both were practical people
and worked well with their hands
they shared a similar humour
but were from different lands.
Their friendship grew at a steady pace -
they'd often share a meal,
then one evening they both agreed
that there was more to feel.
And so began a whirlwind
of emotion, fun, and fears.
But in truth they weren't made to match -
it would only end in tears.
The Agent is a mover
and motion is her style,
Her trouble is always welcomed
though she stays for just a while,
And the witch she is a stayer
with her music in her cave,
and company she will not keep
though closeness she doth crave.
The Agent was the first to see
while the witch she closed her eyes.
Eventually Trouble declared:-
It's time to break the ties.
And so they parted ways -
not without some pain
and their story it is over now - at least
until we meet again.
Sezmeralda and the Agent of Trouble
In the City of Sails, in Jafa-land
where the weather is just a game
there hides a modern witch-like woman
and Sezmeralda is her name.
She came from further south
and she's a strange one it is true.
She lives in a cave on the edge of town,
her friends are good but few.
She is a bit like a Discworld witch:-
a practical woman, though grumpy.
Her friends turn to her now and again
when their own roads get too bumpy.
Her magic is music and song and dance
and a damn good listening ear
and though she's reclusive she cares a lot
and can be called on through the year.
One evening she left her cave
for a night of jovial drinking
and that is where she met The Agent
who asked her "Vat are you sinking?"
The Agent had a merry eye
and a funny, mischievous nature
and although her name was Trouble,
Sezmeralda just couldn't hate her.
The two were very different
and yet somehow the same,
The Agent was a people person
while Sez forgot their names,
They both were practical people
and worked well with their hands
they shared a similar humour
but were from different lands.
Their friendship grew at a steady pace -
they'd often share a meal,
then one evening they both agreed
that there was more to feel.
And so began a whirlwind
of emotion, fun, and fears.
But in truth they weren't made to match -
it would only end in tears.
The Agent is a mover
and motion is her style,
Her trouble is always welcomed
though she stays for just a while,
And the witch she is a stayer
with her music in her cave,
and company she will not keep
though closeness she doth crave.
The Agent was the first to see
while the witch she closed her eyes.
Eventually Trouble declared:-
It's time to break the ties.
And so they parted ways -
not without some pain
and their story it is over now - at least
until we meet again.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Monday, May 16, 2011
I Am Addicted To Llamas
Not actual llamas.
The llamas on Deviant Art.
I don't know why I want them so bad but I think it is a self-worth thing. More llamas means more people like me. Even though I know it's not true. Maybe it's a competition thing - more More MORE!
Here's my Deviant Art Profile Page:
But back to llamas. You can't give someone a llama until you receive one. I wandered aimlessly through the halls of DA for about a week before someone gave me a llama. Then I had one llama. From there I can go about the website giving llamas to anyone I want and it costs me nothing at all. But I can only give one llama to each person. Sometimes people return the favour, and after a while the llamas get "better." Over on the right hand side of my profile page (near the scroll bar) you can almost see my llama. Here's a close up of someone else's llama:
See it there? It's golden coloured with a red bow tie and sunglasses. Let's see how many people had to give this person llamas for them to be classed as golden:
Now lets look at how many llamas I have been given:
I know there aren't 73 people on DA who think I am awesome (especially since I've had to give more than twice that away) but I am still proud of my albino llama.
I just wish it were a ninja llama.
The llamas on Deviant Art.
I don't know why I want them so bad but I think it is a self-worth thing. More llamas means more people like me. Even though I know it's not true. Maybe it's a competition thing - more More MORE!
Here's my Deviant Art Profile Page:
Yah, click on the image to go to my actual DA page and find out what kind of soup I'm holding in my hand...
But back to llamas. You can't give someone a llama until you receive one. I wandered aimlessly through the halls of DA for about a week before someone gave me a llama. Then I had one llama. From there I can go about the website giving llamas to anyone I want and it costs me nothing at all. But I can only give one llama to each person. Sometimes people return the favour, and after a while the llamas get "better." Over on the right hand side of my profile page (near the scroll bar) you can almost see my llama. Here's a close up of someone else's llama:
See it there? It's golden coloured with a red bow tie and sunglasses. Let's see how many people had to give this person llamas for them to be classed as golden:
Now lets look at how many llamas I have been given:
I know there aren't 73 people on DA who think I am awesome (especially since I've had to give more than twice that away) but I am still proud of my albino llama.
I just wish it were a ninja llama.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Photos from the Street
Here are some things I've seen around in the last couple of months:
This one was written by a friend of Nick's.
These are the chillies being grown by the 'Skin Bay' at work.
A beautiful desk in one of the displays at MoTaT in Western Springs, Auckland.
One day I will make one of my own!
This was the statue on top of the desk. I just loved the shadow it cast on the wall behind.
Also at MoTaT. Just because the Allies were on the winning side doesn't mean they didn't cause injustice. NZ sent their 'enemy aliens' to an island off the coast. God forbid they send the countries secrets back to Europe. Wait... what secrets?
That is all.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
In The Time Since Easter
To all of you I apologise! It has been too long. But I have had a busy couple of weeks since Easter and my social calender has been more filled than - possibly - the rest of the year combined. But here I am, back again. I hope you enjoy the post and forgive me for the time it took in coming.
-----
The weekend after Easter was a full one. I took leave on Friday so that my RPG group and I could go to Sylvia Park to watch the movie Thor on the XTREME Screen. This is a screen so extreme it had no time for more than two e's.
I stayed with The Agent of Trouble that night and then had a lunch date with my best friend Rachie. (I am still working out a code-name for Rachie). We tried a place we hadn't been to before near the Grafton Bridge and each had a little boutique pizza and a sweetie. Mine was pain au chocolat which was delicious! After lunch I was off home to get all the chores done before a dinner event that night.
This last summer I played cricket for the Waitakere Cricket Club Women's Senior Grade team headed up by the delightful Tash and coached by the inescapable Garry-with-two-arr's. It took us a long time, but finally (now that it's Autumn) it was time for our end-of-season celebration which was to be held at Genghis Khan's Mongolian Restaurant in New Lynn. Now, normally it doesn't really bother me if I have to drive to a dinner and therefore cannot drink. But on this particular day I really wanted to be able to go over the limit. So I caught a lift in with fellow cricketer Roach. The dinner was nice and we all ate too much before proceeding up the road fifty metres to a local pool bar. Rav had spent the better part of the last five minutes telling us all that she'd never been beat at pool so it was with great delight and pure blind luck that I managed to pull one out at the last second and defeat the self-proclaimed champion.
To be fair, the game was an unusual one. Four of us were playing. We each chose three of the available numbers (8-ball included) then took it in turns to sink any ball which was not our own. It was an honesty system and we had to declare if someone sunk one of our numbers. In that situation only was the current player permitted to have a second shot. (If she potted a ball which did not belong to anyone she didn't get the free shot).
If all three balls a person had secretly nominated were potted then that person was out of the game. It came down to two final numbers, and I sunk Rav's. YAY!
After a quick doubles game of regular pool we'd all had enough (aren't we sad?!) and though Roach had gone home I was rescued by the Agent in her Silver Audi Steed. We had a really nice Sunday morning watching Green Wing on DVD and she even made me her specialty scrambled eggs for breakfast - with seasoning all the way from Germany and all. It didn't look like any kind of scrambled eggs I'd ever had before but it was definitely a tasty breakfast!
So, thus far I have been to the movies, gone out for lunch, gone out for dinner, moved on to a bar, had scrambled eggs and watched DVDs. This has been a very busy weekend so far. But wait, there's more. That's right - my regular every Sunday games night with the RPG crowd. Starts at 2pm and goes to 10. I was very tired by the time Monday came round.
Rachie is, though lacking a code-name, a very good friend. While impressed with my sudden increase in social activity (and all-round organisation) she did caution me not to over-extend myself. This is important for people like me who are heavily-introverted and need to balance their social activities with enough re-charge time to recover properly from said activities. I thanked her for pointing this out and agreed with her I would have to be careful. Especially since it wasn't all over. Oh no.
Tuesday night was Roach's birthday. I joined her for dinner at Indian Summer in West Harbour for a very pleasant evening indeed. Then like a love-struck fool, and determined not to get any sleep at all this week, instead of going home afterwards I snuck up on the Agent again. Thank you kindly for your concern Rachie but it would appear I intend to enrich the zombified experience which is currently my working life by screwing up your good advice and throwing it in the furnace of un-reason and foolishness. On the other hand, I got to spend another night with Trouble so I think it's all working out okay. Besides - I can sleep properly tomorrow night!
Hehe.
Or not. You see, tomorrow night is Wednesday night. And Wednesday night is Mike & Virginia night.
Anyway, the real significance of Mike & Virginia is not who starred in it (because I actually didn't put two and two together until I saw her on stage) but that this was a really wonderful, funny, truthful, talented look at love and relationships and it was written by - drum roll please - Kathryn Burnett and Nick Ward. If Nick is a good man he will re-send me the link he sent me last week and I will put it up here for you because I am not a good woman and although I promised ever so faithfully to read it, I didn't. Sorry Nick.
(UPDATE:- Read Nick's words on his play and see plenty of great links at the bottom.)
Well, we absolutely loved it! And we were even lucky enough to catch Nick very briefly after the show. He was busy of course and most everyone there was more important than us, but we were special enough to get 5 minutes or so of undivided time chatting with him which made me feel loved!
Oh! And there was ice cream!
Now it's really rather getting on.. and I haven't made it to the end of the week yet - let alone the weekend. I wonder if you are all feeling as exhausted as I am simply by reliving this hectic time? I won't sport with you a great deal longer then. Thursday was thankfully uneventful.
Friday I was under a self-imposed obligation to do everything in my power to fulfil two requests of the Agent's. One was to cook dinner, and the other was to get a hold of some 'Allo 'Allo for us to watch on both Friday and Saturday. This combined with a long working day which finished late made for a tiring night.
Saturday (I'm really getting short now, aren't I?) was for late rising and more scrambled eggs (sans German seasoning) and an evening mission to Te Atatu Peninsula for ice cream with The Agent, Ginge & his friend Daz. I was rendered grumpy by what I considered to be a failed mission and disappointment given that I wanted to go to my favourite ice cream shop in Onehunga. But the walk down near the sea, the views, the singing and the company of my Trouble were enough to help me get over it.
Sunday.... Sunday is another day. It was full too. Too full it was. I will write about Sunday another time.
And now it's Tuesday night - or, more accurately, Wednesday morning which may count for the excessive use of hyphens and commas, or it might not. Tomorrow night is dancing night (round one) and I'm hanging out for Friday. No particular reason - I just like weekends.
-----
The weekend after Easter was a full one. I took leave on Friday so that my RPG group and I could go to Sylvia Park to watch the movie Thor on the XTREME Screen. This is a screen so extreme it had no time for more than two e's.
I stayed with The Agent of Trouble that night and then had a lunch date with my best friend Rachie. (I am still working out a code-name for Rachie). We tried a place we hadn't been to before near the Grafton Bridge and each had a little boutique pizza and a sweetie. Mine was pain au chocolat which was delicious! After lunch I was off home to get all the chores done before a dinner event that night.
This last summer I played cricket for the Waitakere Cricket Club Women's Senior Grade team headed up by the delightful Tash and coached by the inescapable Garry-with-two-arr's. It took us a long time, but finally (now that it's Autumn) it was time for our end-of-season celebration which was to be held at Genghis Khan's Mongolian Restaurant in New Lynn. Now, normally it doesn't really bother me if I have to drive to a dinner and therefore cannot drink. But on this particular day I really wanted to be able to go over the limit. So I caught a lift in with fellow cricketer Roach. The dinner was nice and we all ate too much before proceeding up the road fifty metres to a local pool bar. Rav had spent the better part of the last five minutes telling us all that she'd never been beat at pool so it was with great delight and pure blind luck that I managed to pull one out at the last second and defeat the self-proclaimed champion.
To be fair, the game was an unusual one. Four of us were playing. We each chose three of the available numbers (8-ball included) then took it in turns to sink any ball which was not our own. It was an honesty system and we had to declare if someone sunk one of our numbers. In that situation only was the current player permitted to have a second shot. (If she potted a ball which did not belong to anyone she didn't get the free shot).
This is Tash, not Rav.
If all three balls a person had secretly nominated were potted then that person was out of the game. It came down to two final numbers, and I sunk Rav's. YAY!
After a quick doubles game of regular pool we'd all had enough (aren't we sad?!) and though Roach had gone home I was rescued by the Agent in her Silver Audi Steed. We had a really nice Sunday morning watching Green Wing on DVD and she even made me her specialty scrambled eggs for breakfast - with seasoning all the way from Germany and all. It didn't look like any kind of scrambled eggs I'd ever had before but it was definitely a tasty breakfast!
How could you not want to watch this show?
So, thus far I have been to the movies, gone out for lunch, gone out for dinner, moved on to a bar, had scrambled eggs and watched DVDs. This has been a very busy weekend so far. But wait, there's more. That's right - my regular every Sunday games night with the RPG crowd. Starts at 2pm and goes to 10. I was very tired by the time Monday came round.
Rachie is, though lacking a code-name, a very good friend. While impressed with my sudden increase in social activity (and all-round organisation) she did caution me not to over-extend myself. This is important for people like me who are heavily-introverted and need to balance their social activities with enough re-charge time to recover properly from said activities. I thanked her for pointing this out and agreed with her I would have to be careful. Especially since it wasn't all over. Oh no.
Tuesday night was Roach's birthday. I joined her for dinner at Indian Summer in West Harbour for a very pleasant evening indeed. Then like a love-struck fool, and determined not to get any sleep at all this week, instead of going home afterwards I snuck up on the Agent again. Thank you kindly for your concern Rachie but it would appear I intend to enrich the zombified experience which is currently my working life by screwing up your good advice and throwing it in the furnace of un-reason and foolishness. On the other hand, I got to spend another night with Trouble so I think it's all working out okay. Besides - I can sleep properly tomorrow night!
Hehe.
Or not. You see, tomorrow night is Wednesday night. And Wednesday night is Mike & Virginia night.
Recognise her anyone? Mum? Mel? Well you should. That's Lisa Chappell.
This is also Lisa Chappell. I am not kidding you.
Anyway, the real significance of Mike & Virginia is not who starred in it (because I actually didn't put two and two together until I saw her on stage) but that this was a really wonderful, funny, truthful, talented look at love and relationships and it was written by - drum roll please - Kathryn Burnett and Nick Ward. If Nick is a good man he will re-send me the link he sent me last week and I will put it up here for you because I am not a good woman and although I promised ever so faithfully to read it, I didn't. Sorry Nick.
(UPDATE:- Read Nick's words on his play and see plenty of great links at the bottom.)
Well, we absolutely loved it! And we were even lucky enough to catch Nick very briefly after the show. He was busy of course and most everyone there was more important than us, but we were special enough to get 5 minutes or so of undivided time chatting with him which made me feel loved!
Oh! And there was ice cream!
Now it's really rather getting on.. and I haven't made it to the end of the week yet - let alone the weekend. I wonder if you are all feeling as exhausted as I am simply by reliving this hectic time? I won't sport with you a great deal longer then. Thursday was thankfully uneventful.
Friday I was under a self-imposed obligation to do everything in my power to fulfil two requests of the Agent's. One was to cook dinner, and the other was to get a hold of some 'Allo 'Allo for us to watch on both Friday and Saturday. This combined with a long working day which finished late made for a tiring night.
How could you not want to watch this show?
Saturday (I'm really getting short now, aren't I?) was for late rising and more scrambled eggs (sans German seasoning) and an evening mission to Te Atatu Peninsula for ice cream with The Agent, Ginge & his friend Daz. I was rendered grumpy by what I considered to be a failed mission and disappointment given that I wanted to go to my favourite ice cream shop in Onehunga. But the walk down near the sea, the views, the singing and the company of my Trouble were enough to help me get over it.
Sunday.... Sunday is another day. It was full too. Too full it was. I will write about Sunday another time.
And now it's Tuesday night - or, more accurately, Wednesday morning which may count for the excessive use of hyphens and commas, or it might not. Tomorrow night is dancing night (round one) and I'm hanging out for Friday. No particular reason - I just like weekends.
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