Today is a beautiful day in the Christchurch Botanic Gardens. Lots of people enjoying the laid-back environment and chilling out after our night of 5 large aftershocks. Slept in my clothes again last night, too wary (or weary)to get into my jammies. Had a few glasses of wine too, which helped with getting me to sleep. It was a horrible chardonnay, I hate chardonnay, it makes me feel sick at full strength, but watered down with a little fruit juice is quite good. I bought it thinking it was sav.blanc - how many times have I bought something I don't like at the supermarket because I didn't read the label?
Daylight saving started today, so more time in the garden in the evenings. Its looking quaite naice at the moment. Wish I could show you the pictures I took, but I haven't quite worked out how to do this yet. I've also lost my Flickr connection so this post comes to you without pictures, which I know is boring. Sorry. Can you tell I'm just a bit tetchy this morning? The psychology of extreme events must be an interesting thing to study, we've had floods of psychologists and counsellors descend on us for the talking cure, but all we really need is to petition the earthquake god to STOP! Yours, Aftershocked.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
After the big one
Well, here I am at last, after the earthquake. Because I have no web access at home, I rely on the library's free internet to post, and what with one thing and another I haven't been able to get to my blog.
The earthquake was very frightening. As a permanent resident of The Shaky Isles I have experienced a few earthquakes, but nothing like this. At half past four 2 weeks ago, I was awakened by what I thought was my cats having a fight on my bed. Then it occured to me that this was not so, as one of them was outside. The shaking got stronger; it was like being inside a cardboard box with some malevolent person kicking and punching the outside of it. A windchime that I hang inside over the winter was clanging and donging as things fell around me. I sheltered in the doorway, as per instructions, and felt the doorway itself tilting backwards and forwards, like an unanchored parallelogram. So I moved under the table and said several "hail Mary's", the phrase "now and at the hour of our deaths" gaining a new vividness and immediacy. I did truly think that I was going to die, as the shaking just went on and on.
But it did stop. I found the whisky bottle, and glory be, there were still a couple of drops left. (Let me here recommend a mouthful of whisky for the purposes of pulling oneself together). I went outside; it was a glorious night, the stars full on, I could even see the little fuzzy patch of the Pleiades. "Do they know what's happened down here?" I thought. Irrational thoughts for irrational times.
To cut a long story short, I and my house and cats and mother are fine. No one died, that is the miracle. If you're going to have an earthquake, go for 4.30 on a Saturday morning. Parts of Christchurch have been badly affected. A friend in Kaiapoi has been made homeless by the 'quake, the area was devastated.
But do not listen to those media (particularly American) who claim that the whole city has been levelled, that mass looting took place, violence, civil disobedience, etc, etc. All absolute crap. Of 2000 buildings in the CBD, only 80 are too dangerous to enter. The CBD was cordoned off for public safety, not to prevent looters. Much of the city is still as it was.
What amazed me was the number of men in flourescent vests who suddenly appeared out of nowhere, men who knew how and could do, blokes with hard hats and tool-belts, taking down dangerous chimneys and shoring up walls, balancing on dangerous roofs and parapets. Great God of Testoterone, they've come to save the city!
I think I'll stop now.
The earthquake was very frightening. As a permanent resident of The Shaky Isles I have experienced a few earthquakes, but nothing like this. At half past four 2 weeks ago, I was awakened by what I thought was my cats having a fight on my bed. Then it occured to me that this was not so, as one of them was outside. The shaking got stronger; it was like being inside a cardboard box with some malevolent person kicking and punching the outside of it. A windchime that I hang inside over the winter was clanging and donging as things fell around me. I sheltered in the doorway, as per instructions, and felt the doorway itself tilting backwards and forwards, like an unanchored parallelogram. So I moved under the table and said several "hail Mary's", the phrase "now and at the hour of our deaths" gaining a new vividness and immediacy. I did truly think that I was going to die, as the shaking just went on and on.
But it did stop. I found the whisky bottle, and glory be, there were still a couple of drops left. (Let me here recommend a mouthful of whisky for the purposes of pulling oneself together). I went outside; it was a glorious night, the stars full on, I could even see the little fuzzy patch of the Pleiades. "Do they know what's happened down here?" I thought. Irrational thoughts for irrational times.
To cut a long story short, I and my house and cats and mother are fine. No one died, that is the miracle. If you're going to have an earthquake, go for 4.30 on a Saturday morning. Parts of Christchurch have been badly affected. A friend in Kaiapoi has been made homeless by the 'quake, the area was devastated.
But do not listen to those media (particularly American) who claim that the whole city has been levelled, that mass looting took place, violence, civil disobedience, etc, etc. All absolute crap. Of 2000 buildings in the CBD, only 80 are too dangerous to enter. The CBD was cordoned off for public safety, not to prevent looters. Much of the city is still as it was.
What amazed me was the number of men in flourescent vests who suddenly appeared out of nowhere, men who knew how and could do, blokes with hard hats and tool-belts, taking down dangerous chimneys and shoring up walls, balancing on dangerous roofs and parapets. Great God of Testoterone, they've come to save the city!
I think I'll stop now.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Unconference
I've just been to my first unconference. This is a debriefing of what happened at the computer course I attended a few months ago. Lots of talk about what will be happening to libraries in the future, as long as peak oil and peak Internet don't get us first. Lots of "blue-sky thinking", (eww, I hate Americanisms) about how libraries would be if we had unlimited time and money. As usual, more questions than answers, but this is a good thing. The thought crossed my mind of what a clever lot of people librarians are; we're not silly, we are all quite deep thinkers.
Not much of note to report. I'm going to go home now and mow the lawn before it rains again. Picked lots of flowers last evening, jonquils, camellias, daphne. I love daphne - it always makes me think of a Noel Coward-type couple making ecstatic love - "Oh Roland, kiss me, my darling! Oh, Daphne! Oh yes, rather!"
Not much of note to report. I'm going to go home now and mow the lawn before it rains again. Picked lots of flowers last evening, jonquils, camellias, daphne. I love daphne - it always makes me think of a Noel Coward-type couple making ecstatic love - "Oh Roland, kiss me, my darling! Oh, Daphne! Oh yes, rather!"
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