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. ;-)

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.

When I woke up he was...

Exploring the headboard of my bed...

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:

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.

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.

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).

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.

This Morning He Was...

...by my hair clips, checking out my books.

The Mount

This is the second installment of my Easter Break.  You might want to read the first installment before starting this.

After all that eating of fish and chips and failing to dance some members of the group decided that the only course of action was to walk it all off.  Let me show you a photo of Mt Maunganui and let you come up with your own idea of where we might be walking to.

Photo from http://www.nzmission.com/photo.html

Yes.  In this picture of downtown Mt Maunganui (just across the bay from Tauranga) the most prominent feature is The Mount itself.  No argument was to be brooked - to the summit we would climb.

Please don't be mislead by my military career.  I am not a soldier - I fix planes for a living.  A couple of push-ups and a deep breath does not seriously constitute a healthy fitness regime.  (Although, lets be honest it's better than nothing at all.  I really should get fit.)  I decided to compensate for my slow progress by singing.  This would be my excuse.  "I couldn't climb fast - I needed my breath for singing!"  I hoped no one would tell me to stop.  The Agent managed to be in front the whole time - running parts - in bloody knee-high dress boots.  I swear to God, that woman is trouble!  Somewhere near the top I swapped out song for poetry.  Not because I ran out of songs (or breath) but because I felt like Sam needed a bit of congratulations for his stirling effort.  The poem was my favourite (and one of two which I can recite by heart) - Rudyard Kipling's If.

Reaching the summit made me feel as though I had earned my greasy dinner.  It was only a shame that the day was so dreary.  We'd hoped to watch the sunset from the top - and we could have if it had been sunny.

When we descended again to the base it was decided we would go back to the backpackers and drink and play games.  Apparently they'd all played pick-up-sticks the night before, but I had something more challenging in mind.

See my other Cthulhu blog entry here.

It's one of those games which is very tricky to get your head around, but once you've got the hang of it there's only fun to be had.  It's a comical game, and cheating is never looked down upon.  Neither is bargaining and ganging up on people.  In the words of Monty Python's Beard Salesman: "You have to haggle!"
To be honest, this was one trick Trouble (intent on world domination) didn't quite get the hang of.  In the end it didn't matter cos we'd all had too many ports & wines & glasses of evil to concentrate properly. I grew bored of always explaining the rules (it's easier when more people teach less, instead of one teaching three) and we ended up talking into the night instead.

The next morning was ANZAC Day.

http://www.gnomeangel.com/forget-anzac-day-2011/

 http://www.maccazine.com.au

For my foreign readers, ANZAC day is the day we take to remember the sacrifice of the men and women who have given their lives fighting in war.  It is not a day to glorify war - or their sacrifice, but a day to bow our heads in respect for those who fell, and to acknowledge that we must never forget the cost of war.  ANZAC stands for Australia and New Zealand Army Corps.  At the beginning of the 20th Century Australia and New Zealand fought together for His Majesties Forces, and today the word 'Anzac' is still used to portray any joint venture between these two great countries.  It no longer has to be specific to our respective armies.  But back to the present.
I had packed my dress-uniform for the ceremony and despite my inebriated evening still managed to haul my arse out of bed at about 0500 in the morning.  Trouble joined me (she made me a cup of tea and everything, I take back everything I ever said about her... !!) and when I was all uniformed-up we drove to the cenotaph.

It was raining, but the ceremony went ahead because it was never going to be otherwise.  The cenotaph was guarded by ATC cadets who conducted themselves to the credit of their squadron.  I was not in the parade (for the first time) and was very moved to see the veterans marching past for the service.


Normally the service is timed so that the Last Post, Prayers and Reveille occur as the sun rises over the ocean.  This year there was no sunrise, but the sound of waves on the beach and the sky lightning around us was still very moving and, oddly, peaceful.  We were even treated to a fly-past.

Normally I would have finished the service with a trip to the RSA to take the time to speak to veterans and friends, have a hot toddy and whatever else they might be serving behind the bar.  (Hey, it's our culture to drink, and we're drinking to the fallen.  It wouldn't be the same otherwise.)  But this day I wasn't going to know anyone else there, and Trouble wasn't too keen so we headed back to the backpackers.  At this point it was still 0645 and the building was dead quiet.  She curled up on the couch for a sleep and I watched Anzac programs on the television.  My Great Auntie Mae was on the breakfast show.  (I have just searched for videos of it on the 'net but alas, it is not to be.)

Aaand that is pretty much the end of the exciting-ness of a trip to the Mount for Easter.  The rest of the day was dreary, so was spent relaxing about the backpackers and wandering around the shops downtown.  In the afternoon Trouble and I went for a wander onto one of the little peninsulas you see in the picture I took from the summit.  We caught a movie (Suckerpunch, not that great but not too bad either.) and went to bed early.  Tuesday was the drive home and I had work in the evening so we didn't really stop to be tourists.  Maybe in the next post I will show you the LPs I bought in the second hand store.

So that's it - my Easter is all gone now and it's back to the grindstone.  Which reminds me - I have to go get ready for work.  Again.
:-)