I'm taking the opportunity to do a really good spring-clean. Now that the rooms are empty after the EQC'ing, I'm slowly putting everything back and cleaning as I go. I've just washed the inside of the windows, horrified at the streams of grey water coming from them! Don't remember when I last did this; I'm basically a lazy cow. If the room looks tidy, then it's ok. It doesn't need to be clean as well.
I quite like this kind of housework. I know modern women are supposed to despise it, but it's very satisfying to sit back at the end of the day and know that the house is clean and looking it's best. Cleaning up your own messiness is not as bad as cleaning up after someone else either. It's my house and my mess, not the kids' or a slobby partner (and they invariably mess things up again as soon as you've finished). My ex's attitude was that if I wanted a tidy clean house, then I could do the cleaning and tidying. This sounds perfectly fair in theory, but when one person is constantly making work for the other one to do, it is less than considerate. To say the least. I suppose he thought he was doing me some kind of favour, giving me a reason for living, an interesting on-going hobby?
Cleaning house is an important ritual, and many cultures recognise this. The Jews clean house before Passover, getting rid of anything that might be a yeast culture. The Muslims do it at the end of Ramadan, in China everyone gets new clothes and clean new money at New Year, and I guess our spring cleaning traditionally in the Northern hemisphere probably had something to do with Easter and getting rid of the old worn-out life. It's therapeutic; have a good clean and a chuck out.
Come, fill the cup, and in the fire of spring
The winter garment of repentance fling:
The bird of time has but a little way
To fly - and lo! the bird is on the wing.
Edward Fitzgerald "The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam"
Go on, fling that winter garment.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Bliss
It's all over. The nice men have finished and cleaned up and gone. They've done a good job and I'm pleased. They fixed my front door, and my doorbell (hasn't worked for ages) and cleaned up well. Now I have the sheer delight of being back in my bedroom, with my books and order and cleanliness. The spare bed is a tiny one, particularly when shared with two cats. I'd have been more comfortable on the couch, except it was up-ended in the conservatory for the duration. I've got to put all things back again, but it's my long weekend so I can do this at my leisure. It will be fun playing house again, doing the spring-cleaning at the same time, washing curtains and cushion covers and duvets. I'm going to reorganize some of my "stuff" - copious numbers of ornaments and things I'm now too old for or have changed my mind about or am just plain sick of.
The neighbours over the back fence have installed a spa-pool. Oh joy. That will be bubbling away at all hours of the day and night, with drunken screams and splashes no doubt. Perhaps they've decided to take up swinging as a hobby, if she can manage to get him away from his precious machinery. Funny thing, they've got four kids, but there's not really anything for them in the garden. Most people have a swing or a trampoline or a tree hut, but not them, it's all very adult. Hopefully the boys have some sort of indoor riot room.
The people over the road are dreadies, worshippers of Bob Marley. I can hear their stereo right now as we speak. There is a new guy there, hope he's not staying long, wears a hoodie and sits in his car with a stubby in hand and the stereo and the car engine running, right outside my bedroom. So fucking annoying. Then he zooms off, only to reappear in a half-hour. I get the feeling he's some sort of delivery service, wouldn't like to say what I think he's delivering. It's not goodwill, that's for sure. They've got about five vehicles there, a large truck, a small truck, a fourwheel drive, a landrover and a car and a horsefloat. Fairly often they move them all around, just for something to do. Two of the vehicles are parked on the street permanently; why do they need them at all?
So here I am, sandwiched between les nouveaux riches with the House-and-Garden Shrew and her spa-pool and the dreaded daksters across the road. What a weird place I live in, the far-out pa it is in very truth. Whatever happened to nice, quiet people?
The neighbours over the back fence have installed a spa-pool. Oh joy. That will be bubbling away at all hours of the day and night, with drunken screams and splashes no doubt. Perhaps they've decided to take up swinging as a hobby, if she can manage to get him away from his precious machinery. Funny thing, they've got four kids, but there's not really anything for them in the garden. Most people have a swing or a trampoline or a tree hut, but not them, it's all very adult. Hopefully the boys have some sort of indoor riot room.
The people over the road are dreadies, worshippers of Bob Marley. I can hear their stereo right now as we speak. There is a new guy there, hope he's not staying long, wears a hoodie and sits in his car with a stubby in hand and the stereo and the car engine running, right outside my bedroom. So fucking annoying. Then he zooms off, only to reappear in a half-hour. I get the feeling he's some sort of delivery service, wouldn't like to say what I think he's delivering. It's not goodwill, that's for sure. They've got about five vehicles there, a large truck, a small truck, a fourwheel drive, a landrover and a car and a horsefloat. Fairly often they move them all around, just for something to do. Two of the vehicles are parked on the street permanently; why do they need them at all?
So here I am, sandwiched between les nouveaux riches with the House-and-Garden Shrew and her spa-pool and the dreaded daksters across the road. What a weird place I live in, the far-out pa it is in very truth. Whatever happened to nice, quiet people?
Monday, August 27, 2012
Sunday, August 26, 2012
A frustrating day ending with a gift.
Day off today, but had the painters were here so I felt like a guest in my own house - you know how you get that feeling they'd rather have you out of the way, so they could do as they please? So I went off to Little River for lunch. Gorgeous day, the air smelled like vanilla from all the plum blossom. Fell asleep in the sun at Halswell Quarry on the way back. Got back and the painter was a bit annoyed; apparently I'd given them the wrong colour name. But after a look at my old colour charts, I am vindicated; can I help it if paint companies use the same name for two different colours over two different years? Of course, his attitude was that I'm a silly little woman who doesn't know her arse from her elbow - don't you HATE that? But I've got the paint chart to prove it. Sometimes it is a good idea to keep things, not throw them out.
They've started on my bedroom, so I'm all squoozed up in the spare room but it's not too bad. Problem is the dust, not just the clean plaster dust but the mouldy crud from the old wallpaper. I can feel my nose blocking up as I write.
My friend Maggie came round this morning, and I was telling her about brave Thom's rat catching exploits. When I came home tonight, guess what? I've been given another rat as a present, laid out in the usual viewing place at the back of the pear tree. Don't know if he gave it to me to cheer me up, or as a thankyou for having extolled his hunting prowess. I like getting rats as long as they're well dead; it means there's one fewer to make more rats. People go on about how terrible cats are for killing the native birds, but if we didn't have cats we'd also be knee deep in vermin, and the rats would be eating the baby birds anyway.
They've started on my bedroom, so I'm all squoozed up in the spare room but it's not too bad. Problem is the dust, not just the clean plaster dust but the mouldy crud from the old wallpaper. I can feel my nose blocking up as I write.
My friend Maggie came round this morning, and I was telling her about brave Thom's rat catching exploits. When I came home tonight, guess what? I've been given another rat as a present, laid out in the usual viewing place at the back of the pear tree. Don't know if he gave it to me to cheer me up, or as a thankyou for having extolled his hunting prowess. I like getting rats as long as they're well dead; it means there's one fewer to make more rats. People go on about how terrible cats are for killing the native birds, but if we didn't have cats we'd also be knee deep in vermin, and the rats would be eating the baby birds anyway.
A few piccys
Beautiful Magnolia 'San Jose' in my garden.
Opening bud in the morning light
And grungy waterstain on leaky ceiling!
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Nice day
Weather-wise anyway. Yesterday was gorgeous, very warm and daffodils all springing about. Busy in the Gardens, lots of people out enjoying the sun. I sat in the Rose Garden before work, basking in the early morning sun. Only spoiled by four weird lone men, one a stoner/street kid who I've seen before who just wanders aimlessly about, another a creepy guy who is a regular (pretends he can't talk and writes his name on things, so we know who he is - a petty criminal with a nasty streak) and two others that I hadn't seen before. There does seem to be more crazies about lately; I guess their usual support networks (family, mainly) are struggling with other problems now and the crazy relative is the straw that breaks the camel's back. The cheaper rentals and hostels have disappeared with the quakes. so there's fewer places to stay when the psychiatric hospital turfs them out at the end of their "treatment".
Work today too. Feel like I need a holiday, perhaps I'll go away for the day tomorrow, seeing as how the painter dudes will be here all day. I don't know how people can stand to have major renovations done, I feel for those who have had to live like this for the last two years, in quake damaged houses and gardens.
Work today too. Feel like I need a holiday, perhaps I'll go away for the day tomorrow, seeing as how the painter dudes will be here all day. I don't know how people can stand to have major renovations done, I feel for those who have had to live like this for the last two years, in quake damaged houses and gardens.
Friday, August 24, 2012
A trip to Iran
Owing to the state of my kitchen (covered in a thin film of plaster dust from the post-earthquake renovations) I've eaten takeaway the last couple of nights. Last night I went to Philadephio's and had a Moroccan pizza, marinated lamb chunks and mint/yoghurt sauce, with a nice dark beer. Tonight I went to my neighbourhood souvlakerie and while I waited for my order, I looked at a book about the glories of ancient Iran; Persepolis, Naqst-i-Rustam and Shiraz. So I took my beef souvlaki home and teamed it with an appropriate glass of Shiraz (not from Iran but from Australia). The people in the shop must be Iranian, as there are several books there about Iran. I don't know if souvlaki is an Arab invention, I thought it was Greek, but I guess that something much like souvlaki is eaten across the Arab world, like kebabs, and probably Greek souvlaki originates with the Ottoman empire that took over Greece and the eastern world for several centuries. I don't know; the ethnology of food is fascinating subject and complex. (Get hold of Claudia Roden's Book of Jewish food - the story of the Diaspora told through the food of Jewish communities across Europe and Asia)
What interested me in the book about Iran was the picture of a stone relief of Emperor Shapur, (Parthian or Sassanid, I forget which) seated in triumph over the grovelling figure of the Roman emperor, Valerianus. A nice moment of shoe-on-the-other-footness, given the Roman love of portraying their own emperors triumphing over sundry "barbarian" races. Here the Roman is seen as the barbarian, offering tribute to the sophisticated and civilised emperor Shapur, representing the superiority of his people and culture over that of Rome.
It's just like my Thursday night Moroccan pizza; pizza, that most Italian of foods, topped by a characteristically Arab taste combination of lamb and minted yoghurt. The pizza base is held hostage by the topping, just like Valerian's submission to Shapur!
The ancient world was far more multicultural than we think; people didn't travel fast, but they still travelled, and fought each other and created mixed-race babies and mixed-race food. An Arab merchant might have two wives, one at either end of the Silk Road, one Chinese and one Caucasian, both Muslim. Ibn Batuta, the great Arab traveller, travelled to China via India well before Marco Polo. The Phoenicians travelled as far as Cornwall for tin, and Viking yobboes (Justinian's Varangian guard) carved runic graffiti into the balustrade of Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, a Byzantine Christian cathedral that was converted into a mosque by the Ottoman Turks. Sicily, at the centre of the Mediterranean, was home to the Greeks, the Carthaginians, the odd Roman or two, the Moors, the Normans and the Spanish; each group contributed something to Sicilian culture to make something quite unique.
Multiculturalism; it does make life more interesting.
What interested me in the book about Iran was the picture of a stone relief of Emperor Shapur, (Parthian or Sassanid, I forget which) seated in triumph over the grovelling figure of the Roman emperor, Valerianus. A nice moment of shoe-on-the-other-footness, given the Roman love of portraying their own emperors triumphing over sundry "barbarian" races. Here the Roman is seen as the barbarian, offering tribute to the sophisticated and civilised emperor Shapur, representing the superiority of his people and culture over that of Rome.
It's just like my Thursday night Moroccan pizza; pizza, that most Italian of foods, topped by a characteristically Arab taste combination of lamb and minted yoghurt. The pizza base is held hostage by the topping, just like Valerian's submission to Shapur!
The ancient world was far more multicultural than we think; people didn't travel fast, but they still travelled, and fought each other and created mixed-race babies and mixed-race food. An Arab merchant might have two wives, one at either end of the Silk Road, one Chinese and one Caucasian, both Muslim. Ibn Batuta, the great Arab traveller, travelled to China via India well before Marco Polo. The Phoenicians travelled as far as Cornwall for tin, and Viking yobboes (Justinian's Varangian guard) carved runic graffiti into the balustrade of Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, a Byzantine Christian cathedral that was converted into a mosque by the Ottoman Turks. Sicily, at the centre of the Mediterranean, was home to the Greeks, the Carthaginians, the odd Roman or two, the Moors, the Normans and the Spanish; each group contributed something to Sicilian culture to make something quite unique.
Multiculturalism; it does make life more interesting.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
It could be worse
Went home and looked at the ceiling. The crew were still there, and seemed quite amused by the grungy ceiling. It was not as bad as I feared, not a gaping, dripping hole surrounded by collapsed plaster, just two small holes and a lot of mouldiness, but the plaster looks like it could go anytime; only the lining paper was keeping it up. So there can be a solution, its not the whole ceiling just one side of it. Probably the apex flashing has failed; it could have been the quakes, because I had the house insulated in May 2010 and the guys didn't say anything about a wet attic then.
I'm amazed at how fast the guys have got on. The old ceiling in the spare room had been taken down, and the new gib had been placed and stopped. They'd moved my heavy furniture and stacked it thoughtfully; they've done this before. They've even got stilts that they strap on to work up high. Think if I was to take up a trade it would be painting and plastering. Wouldn't want to be a plumber, finding old sanitary napkins and dead babies (yes, really) or a sparky, risking electrocution every day, or stumble around with bricks and blocks. Carpentry would be quite fun, love the smell of wood, and hammering and sawing, but then a lot of modern carpentry is with synthetic boards and prefabricated mouldings. Gardening would still be my trade of choice, but it's wretchedly paid compared to other occupations.
Bloody neighbours have got their stereo on. Thud thud, booomp. Thud thud, booomp. Shut up and go to sleep. Take the hobbits to Isengard, and never come back.
I'm amazed at how fast the guys have got on. The old ceiling in the spare room had been taken down, and the new gib had been placed and stopped. They'd moved my heavy furniture and stacked it thoughtfully; they've done this before. They've even got stilts that they strap on to work up high. Think if I was to take up a trade it would be painting and plastering. Wouldn't want to be a plumber, finding old sanitary napkins and dead babies (yes, really) or a sparky, risking electrocution every day, or stumble around with bricks and blocks. Carpentry would be quite fun, love the smell of wood, and hammering and sawing, but then a lot of modern carpentry is with synthetic boards and prefabricated mouldings. Gardening would still be my trade of choice, but it's wretchedly paid compared to other occupations.
Bloody neighbours have got their stereo on. Thud thud, booomp. Thud thud, booomp. Shut up and go to sleep. Take the hobbits to Isengard, and never come back.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
No, no, NO!
Just had a call from the guy (who hereinafter shall be known as W.) doing the EQC repairs. Arrrrgh! The ceiling in my living room is wet because of an undiagnosed hole in the roof! So they can't fix the ceiling till the roof is fixed. EQC will pay for the ceiling but not the roof - OMG! I hope hope hope that nothing else is found. W. is calling in a roofer friend of his. I used to have a guy but he has moved away. Oh buggery! And I can only tell you because there is no one else here to tell. The boss is on the phone and my offsider is in the nursery. OMG! Bugger, bugger, bugger. Bang goes next year's trip to Italy. Still. I don't have to feel guilty now that my house doesn't really need fixing. It does. Oh, hell and damnation. Calamity.
PS. Yes , I am doing this in work time, because I have to tell someone.
PS. Yes , I am doing this in work time, because I have to tell someone.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Long day
Finished packing my furniture and effects into the conservatory, so that the painters can have access to the rest of the rooms. It's an exercise a bit like seeing how many people will fit into a telephone box. I don't have many pieces of big heavy furniture, I've always tried to get small furniture that will be appropriate for a modest cottage, so it's not been too difficult. The painters can shift the heavy stuff as they please, or work around it. Now I'm living in my bedroom while they do the rest of the house, then I'll shift into the spare room while they do my bedroom. Hopefully all will go OK. They've practically finished the outside, but it is a once over lightly just to cover the hairline cracks in the stucco. They aren't doing a full repaint with the woodwork and trim, which is a bit annoying, because it makes these look crappier by contrast. Still, I'm quite glad - it means they will be out of here sooner, and I can finish stuff off at my leisure. Tomorrow they start inside in the spare room, bringing the cracked ceiling down. I will be at work, hoping that all goes well.
The cats are getting a bit freaked out, they know something is up. I was going to send Thom to stay at the vets to keep him out of the way, but I've decided I need him here more to prop up my morale. Emma spent the day under the bed, she knows just to wait things out and they'll go away in due course.
Spring is here. The fruit blossom is starting to come out, and I have a delicate bunch of daffodils on the bureau in my bedroom, lovely things. The good part about this painting business is that I can get my spring cleaning done at the same time. Everything will be clean, for the first time in years!
The cats are getting a bit freaked out, they know something is up. I was going to send Thom to stay at the vets to keep him out of the way, but I've decided I need him here more to prop up my morale. Emma spent the day under the bed, she knows just to wait things out and they'll go away in due course.
Spring is here. The fruit blossom is starting to come out, and I have a delicate bunch of daffodils on the bureau in my bedroom, lovely things. The good part about this painting business is that I can get my spring cleaning done at the same time. Everything will be clean, for the first time in years!
Sunday, August 19, 2012
taking the hobbits to isengard
How did this inspired lunacy get under my radar? What did you say? And where did he say they were taking the hobbits?
Monty Python - Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life [HD]
OOO, well, musn't grumble! Worse things 'appen at sea. Keep calm and keep singing.
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Cold and miserable
Cold, miserable day today. Spent some of it chopping back some roses and plants growing next to the house so that the painters can get to the walls. The windows they masked off have come unmasked in the wind - hope this is not an indication of the future standard of work. They arrive tomorrow at 8.00, unless it's pouring with rain.
I've also moved a lot of knick-knacks, pictures, etc out of the rooms they will be doing up. Decided to get rid of some of Mum's old books that I've had here since she died. Made me feel guilty, I could hear her telling me off, but some of them are falling apart or are so void of interest to me that I will never read them. Sorry Mum, I can't keep everything. And it's not like you're coming back.
Shoved lots of stuff into the wardrobe in the spare room. It's packed to the gunnels now, hope I won't need anything out of it. I've got a small box with everyday stuff in - hairbrush, perfume, deodorant, alarm clock - so that I won't need to hunt for them wherever I am in the house. Don't know yet where I will sleep, probably move from room to room on my small mattress. Can't say this appeals much.
Going to watch the TV news now, see what has happened. Death, murder, and sport. How depressing. I feel a viewing of Room with a view coming on.
I've also moved a lot of knick-knacks, pictures, etc out of the rooms they will be doing up. Decided to get rid of some of Mum's old books that I've had here since she died. Made me feel guilty, I could hear her telling me off, but some of them are falling apart or are so void of interest to me that I will never read them. Sorry Mum, I can't keep everything. And it's not like you're coming back.
Shoved lots of stuff into the wardrobe in the spare room. It's packed to the gunnels now, hope I won't need anything out of it. I've got a small box with everyday stuff in - hairbrush, perfume, deodorant, alarm clock - so that I won't need to hunt for them wherever I am in the house. Don't know yet where I will sleep, probably move from room to room on my small mattress. Can't say this appeals much.
Going to watch the TV news now, see what has happened. Death, murder, and sport. How depressing. I feel a viewing of Room with a view coming on.
Friday, August 17, 2012
Where have all the goddesses gone?
Reading "Anthony and Cleopatra" has had me continuing with some thoughts that surfaced several years ago. Where have all the goddesses gone?
The Egyptians, Romans, Greeks and Assyrians of the ancient world had many powerful and influential goddesses. Isis, Astarte, Aphrodite, Juno to name just a few. These were considered not just to be goddesses of women's issues, but powerful deities to whom everyone prayed and made offerings. The Jews were not goddess-friendly, they had the bullying and judgemental Yahweh. (Even they had a goddess, now largely forgotten about, a female being known as the Shekinah, whose role was to look after the things of earth; Yahweh was the god of the universe, but the Shekinah looked after everyday things down here, but I would guess that she still had to report to him). Mohammed allowed no goddesses either. (Perhaps a harsh, desert climate breeds harsh male gods - goddesses seem to be always associated with water and fertility and lushness - Isis shed the Tear that watered Egypt through the passage of the Nile, Aphrodite was the goddess of love born out of the sea, her virginity magically reinstated by a sacred spring). Then Christianity came along and did away with goddesses too. A harsh god and an inscrutable Son, who both moved in mysterious ways too complex for humans to understand, unlike goddesses who always had something of the human about them, even human-like failings.
I recently read something written by a Christian theologian (male, naturally) who said that the Holy Spirit was male, too. How can a spirit have a gender? And if we are going to allot gender to the Holy Spirit why can't it be female? Outrageous. So the whole wretched Trinity is male, is it? Thanks a lot. The female principle is not to be allowed a look-in at all. We're allowed to have the Virgin Mary, but only if we're Catholic or high-church Anglican. (More on the Virgin another time).
Here's a thought. Perhaps it would be a good thing for the world if we reinstated the female principle, replace unconditional eternal judgement with unconditional eternal love. Perhaps we'd be more interested in creating than destroying? Perhaps it would have been better for the planet if we'd stuck with the goddesses, and seen the gods for what they are; an attempt by the male principle to get power and keep it in the hands of men.
And yet another reason why I am not a Christian.
The Egyptians, Romans, Greeks and Assyrians of the ancient world had many powerful and influential goddesses. Isis, Astarte, Aphrodite, Juno to name just a few. These were considered not just to be goddesses of women's issues, but powerful deities to whom everyone prayed and made offerings. The Jews were not goddess-friendly, they had the bullying and judgemental Yahweh. (Even they had a goddess, now largely forgotten about, a female being known as the Shekinah, whose role was to look after the things of earth; Yahweh was the god of the universe, but the Shekinah looked after everyday things down here, but I would guess that she still had to report to him). Mohammed allowed no goddesses either. (Perhaps a harsh, desert climate breeds harsh male gods - goddesses seem to be always associated with water and fertility and lushness - Isis shed the Tear that watered Egypt through the passage of the Nile, Aphrodite was the goddess of love born out of the sea, her virginity magically reinstated by a sacred spring). Then Christianity came along and did away with goddesses too. A harsh god and an inscrutable Son, who both moved in mysterious ways too complex for humans to understand, unlike goddesses who always had something of the human about them, even human-like failings.
I recently read something written by a Christian theologian (male, naturally) who said that the Holy Spirit was male, too. How can a spirit have a gender? And if we are going to allot gender to the Holy Spirit why can't it be female? Outrageous. So the whole wretched Trinity is male, is it? Thanks a lot. The female principle is not to be allowed a look-in at all. We're allowed to have the Virgin Mary, but only if we're Catholic or high-church Anglican. (More on the Virgin another time).
Here's a thought. Perhaps it would be a good thing for the world if we reinstated the female principle, replace unconditional eternal judgement with unconditional eternal love. Perhaps we'd be more interested in creating than destroying? Perhaps it would have been better for the planet if we'd stuck with the goddesses, and seen the gods for what they are; an attempt by the male principle to get power and keep it in the hands of men.
And yet another reason why I am not a Christian.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
It begins
So. Phone call from the painters today, wanting to go round to my house to scope out the job. I arrived home to find that my largest windows have already been masked off with transparent plastic, so I guess that they are going to spray paint the house. We are starting the repair/repaint process. My poor little house. Tomorrow I'll start packing all my ornaments and tchotkes away and figuring out where to move the furniture while they pull down the ceiling and take the paper off the walls. I'll be glad when it's over - its like having teeth pulled. However, I'm mindful of the fact that many people in town would be only too glad to have the process underway, as many have waited for a long time with worse damage than I have.
Spring continues to rush forward. Camellias, narcissus, snowflakes, primulas all in bloom. The excessive rain doesn't seem to have slowed anything down, but the lawn is still too wet too walk on, and there is a very muddy patch where the 'pond' was.
Reading Colleen McCulloch's 'Anthony and Cleopatra' at the moment, I do like ancient history, it's so modern. The focus in this book is less on the relationship of Antony and Cleopatra than on the political wrangles of Antony and his arch-rival Octavianus, who would later become Caesar Augustus, husband of Livia and grandfather to Claudius. (Brian Blessed!) Anthony was a wastrel playboy, whose loyalties were only to himself. Octavianus had a longer, less selfish view, but ultimately both were very interested in power. Getting it and keeping it and using it. Just like modern politicians. Imagine John Key in a toga! First among equals, yeah right.
Spring continues to rush forward. Camellias, narcissus, snowflakes, primulas all in bloom. The excessive rain doesn't seem to have slowed anything down, but the lawn is still too wet too walk on, and there is a very muddy patch where the 'pond' was.
Reading Colleen McCulloch's 'Anthony and Cleopatra' at the moment, I do like ancient history, it's so modern. The focus in this book is less on the relationship of Antony and Cleopatra than on the political wrangles of Antony and his arch-rival Octavianus, who would later become Caesar Augustus, husband of Livia and grandfather to Claudius. (Brian Blessed!) Anthony was a wastrel playboy, whose loyalties were only to himself. Octavianus had a longer, less selfish view, but ultimately both were very interested in power. Getting it and keeping it and using it. Just like modern politicians. Imagine John Key in a toga! First among equals, yeah right.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Monty Python's Military Fairy
Another new event for the Olympics? If we can have beach volleyball (bitch pussyball) and synchronised swimming????
Rain, rain
The urn is now a water feature and the helleborus are water lillies.
Loads of rain here and now quite a wind as well. The garden is quite flooded, as you can see. Very unpleasant weather, it feels quite draughty in the house even though I have the heaters on. I have to go out this evening, Emma has her rhinotracheitis thing that she often gets, so we have to see the vet.
Interesting change in the Emma/Thomas relationship - she has decided to get tough with him, and now he is more respectful, even to the point of being scared of her. Up till now, he has been very much a kitten, just playing around, heedless of her, but this morning we had the whole 'gaze protocol' routine that cats employ to keep the peace. There's been a cheeky tom-cat around lately, peeing up things, calling for females. Thomas has not encountered him yet, only seen him through the window, and was very upset. Perhaps Emma had decided it's time the little boy needs to learn to fight for real. Who needs to go to the zoo to see fascinating animal behaviour?
Strange dream last night that I was lost in Albania, having taken a wrong bus from the railway station. I was rescued by a couple on a bicycle and ended up staying at a hostel run by Australians! Where does this stuff come from? Albania was lovely, by the way, full of fabulous baroque architecture and friendly people living a bucolic peasant existence. I don't think this is so in real life.
Must google Albania.
Friday, August 10, 2012
The EQC approacheth
Feeling depressed tonight. I received a phone call on Tuesday night from the guy who's repairing my house for the claim I made to the insurance company after the earthquake. (Two years ago!) They ( probably a team of blokes in large boots) will be starting work here on the 21st August. While this is good, there are a number of things that depress me about it.
1) The inevitable disruption. I don't enjoy having people in to do stuff in the house. I will feel like a guest in my own home. They will use my toilet. I will have to stay away from the place during the days I'm not at work. The cats will have to be boarded out. I will have to see my house partly ripped apart. It's like having to have an operation; you hope the end result is worth the horror of the process, and just wish it would be over.
2) I feel that much of what is to be done is unnecessary. 'They' are going to redecorate and repair things that don't need to be redecorated or repaired. My house is 74 years old; it does not have perfect wall finishes nor should anyone expect it to have perfect wall finishes. I am quite happy with it as it is. I have redecorated it myself, carefully and conscientiously over the years. I am quite fussy about the paint job and hope that some slob with an oversize brush and a sloppy hand will not be let loose in my rooms. All I really need are cracks filled in the exterior stucco and foundation, some light fittings replaced and a couple of doors eased. That's all. So 'they' are pulling down ceilings, regrouting tiles, relining walls, etc. etc. I love my house but it's all way too much. A waste of money and resources.
3) There are many people in this city who need far more done to their houses than I do, people living with leaky roofs, cracked floors, broken windows, warped walls. Many of these people are elderly or sick or have young children, but our government is leaving these homes to be repaired last. None of us 'ordinary people' understand why, and explanations have not been forthcoming.
The whole of post-earthquake Christchurch life seems like such a bloody mess; corruption, political opportunism, spin and bullshit and endless road works and building closures and demolitions. It's all too much.
1) The inevitable disruption. I don't enjoy having people in to do stuff in the house. I will feel like a guest in my own home. They will use my toilet. I will have to stay away from the place during the days I'm not at work. The cats will have to be boarded out. I will have to see my house partly ripped apart. It's like having to have an operation; you hope the end result is worth the horror of the process, and just wish it would be over.
2) I feel that much of what is to be done is unnecessary. 'They' are going to redecorate and repair things that don't need to be redecorated or repaired. My house is 74 years old; it does not have perfect wall finishes nor should anyone expect it to have perfect wall finishes. I am quite happy with it as it is. I have redecorated it myself, carefully and conscientiously over the years. I am quite fussy about the paint job and hope that some slob with an oversize brush and a sloppy hand will not be let loose in my rooms. All I really need are cracks filled in the exterior stucco and foundation, some light fittings replaced and a couple of doors eased. That's all. So 'they' are pulling down ceilings, regrouting tiles, relining walls, etc. etc. I love my house but it's all way too much. A waste of money and resources.
3) There are many people in this city who need far more done to their houses than I do, people living with leaky roofs, cracked floors, broken windows, warped walls. Many of these people are elderly or sick or have young children, but our government is leaving these homes to be repaired last. None of us 'ordinary people' understand why, and explanations have not been forthcoming.
The whole of post-earthquake Christchurch life seems like such a bloody mess; corruption, political opportunism, spin and bullshit and endless road works and building closures and demolitions. It's all too much.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
I'm so tired
I've gardened myself literally to a standstill, so I've given me an afternoon off, just loafing around. Busy morning doing new plantings in the old cabbage tree patch - anemone japonica, ajuga, hosta, snowdrops and some iris stylosa that had been sitting in the compost heap since summer, backed by Camellia 'Nuccio's Gem' (a bargain at Oderings sale) and a Daphne bholua. I feel a bit guilty about the daphne, because it might be too wet and cold for it there, but obeying the god of gardening foolishness, (there must be one) I put in there just the same. Great satisfaction gained by hacking into the wiry roots of the cabbage trees. (The Daphne odora in my front garden is coming out in bloom; such a wonderful fragrance, it seems to get more intense every year).
Moved my pot of Narcissus 'Quail' to a spot under the pear tree where I can see it from the conservatory. It was by the front door before, nice for visitors, but I was missing out because I couldn't see it. It looks much better by the pear tree, with the grey rough bark of the tree, the fresh green circle of violets, and a little bit of a breeze to make the flowers dance. The pansies give a nice lift to the bottom of the narcissus stems too.
After commandeering my kneeling pads, Thomas enjoyed the spring sunshine. He's becoming a handsome cat now, although his overwhelming greediness may make him a tubby tabby.
More gardening pictures
Crocus
Think these are Crocus 'Snow Bunting'
Bay tree in its new home. I really have to do something about the nasty cracked concrete.
Decorative cabbages look bright in the vegetable garden
Gardening
Although the weather here is cold and cloudy, it's been dry and I've been busy in the garden. The secret to winter gardening is wrap up warm and stay moving. It's a good time to do some of the heavy work that is just too hot in summer.
Chris the tree guy came by on Friday looking for some work, so I decided to take the bull by the horns and get him to cut down the cabbage trees in the back garden. I know they are a NZ icon, but they are a messy nuisance really. Other than giving Thomas some climbing exercise, and providing ecologically sound plant ties they don't really have much to recommend them. The flowers give me hay fever in early summer, and I spend the rest of the year picking the dead leaves out of the camellia. Chris got the trees down in about 45 minutes and took the stuff away too - it was really heavy, full of water. So now I'm hoping my Golden Delicious apple will be more productive, with the light and lack of competition from the matty root system of the cabbage trees, and there's an old grapevine behind it that should be better too. I can fill in the space underneath the apple with hostas, ajuga and iris stylosa, I've got some needing a home from another place in the garden.
To celebrate my holiday I took myself off to Oderings nursery and bought some plants, new seasons dahlias for the front garden (I've managed to tidy and cut out a lot of dross from there), some more polyanthus for filling gaps and a delphinium that was flowering - hey it's winter, dude! - a pretty lavender colour. And I bought a large terracotta pot for my bay tree, which has been languishing for some time now. I've been lopping off the side branches, to turn it into a standard. So now it's all potted up, with strawberries for summer and some polyanthus in lemon shades to make it look good now.
So I'm well pleased with myself. The garden has never looked so tidy, and spring flowers seem to look better in a tidy garden - you can see them properly against a neatly edged lawn and weed-free soil. It seems like we may have an early spring, (hope, hope) and we're all ready for it.
Chris the tree guy came by on Friday looking for some work, so I decided to take the bull by the horns and get him to cut down the cabbage trees in the back garden. I know they are a NZ icon, but they are a messy nuisance really. Other than giving Thomas some climbing exercise, and providing ecologically sound plant ties they don't really have much to recommend them. The flowers give me hay fever in early summer, and I spend the rest of the year picking the dead leaves out of the camellia. Chris got the trees down in about 45 minutes and took the stuff away too - it was really heavy, full of water. So now I'm hoping my Golden Delicious apple will be more productive, with the light and lack of competition from the matty root system of the cabbage trees, and there's an old grapevine behind it that should be better too. I can fill in the space underneath the apple with hostas, ajuga and iris stylosa, I've got some needing a home from another place in the garden.
To celebrate my holiday I took myself off to Oderings nursery and bought some plants, new seasons dahlias for the front garden (I've managed to tidy and cut out a lot of dross from there), some more polyanthus for filling gaps and a delphinium that was flowering - hey it's winter, dude! - a pretty lavender colour. And I bought a large terracotta pot for my bay tree, which has been languishing for some time now. I've been lopping off the side branches, to turn it into a standard. So now it's all potted up, with strawberries for summer and some polyanthus in lemon shades to make it look good now.
So I'm well pleased with myself. The garden has never looked so tidy, and spring flowers seem to look better in a tidy garden - you can see them properly against a neatly edged lawn and weed-free soil. It seems like we may have an early spring, (hope, hope) and we're all ready for it.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Flatmans Pak n Save Marmite Rescue Day!!!
On a lighter, happier note.
(Marmite - a yeasty meaty spread beloved by NZers - is still in short supply. A friend was telling me yesterday that she bought some on TradeMe; it was black market stuff and is now priced per gram, like cocaine!)
Fear and loathing in New Christchurch
Well, now we have the fruit of that attitude. The new Government plan for the rebuild came out yesterday, and makes somewhat grim reading. The govt. have decided the shape of the new Christchurch will include a rugby stadium, a conference centre, etc etc, all erected with money from the ratepayers of Christchurch. (Yes, the government makes the Plan compulsory, but does nothing to fund it - is this democratic? they will force us to pay for their monuments to their own posterity).
The CBD will be "framed" by a green swath on either side of the city, which sounds wonderful, but anything left standing in this designated green area is to come down regardless of the condition of the building. The NG building, the darker building in the photo behind the bull, was one of the buildings that withstood the quakes. It's owners have reopened their jewellery and design business here, and the city art gallery is using part of the space for displays. The building is both safe and functioning. But now it will be demolished to make way for a sports stadium. Yes, just because it's in the way of the almighty Plan. Way to go, NZ govt. - destroy anything left standing to "align with the Plan". The NG building is like a little rock, and I feel for the owners. They've done all the right things, strengthening the building, refitting the interior, and now it's to be bulldozed for a bloody stadium, which ratepayers can't pay for and don't need. The government will offer them a price, and if they don't take it, it will be 'compulsorily acquired", i.e. taken off them. This is Big Government bullying at its best. As if we haven't had enough destruction! Christchurch has become a real-time Lego-land for big boys to play bulldozers in.
Oh, bugger, bugger, bugger them. Take your stadium and shove it.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Signs of spring - flowers in the garden
Snowflakes (yes, out of focus)
Big, furry buds on Magnolia 'San Jose'. The afternoon sun really lights up the fuzz.
Bedding polyanthus
Camellia 'Barbara Clark'
The beautiful jade lanterns of Helleborus corsicus
Signs of spring - flowers in the garden
Narcissus 'Quail'
Small iris
Viola
Helleborus orientalis
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