Punctuality rant

We were holding a workshop today. Everyone had been emailed with the start time (1.00pm) and where to meet. OK. All will go swimmingly. Except I get a phone call about 25 past 1 from a woman phoning from the other information office saying she had been to the rendezvous and there was no-one there. Sigh. What time were you there? I ask. Oh, I was just a little late, and now I'm missing the first part of the workshop. Just a little late. Lady, you are twenty-five minutes late, they thought you weren't coming and have moved off. If you are missing the first part of the workshop, you only have yourself to blame. You are not so important that other people will wait for you. I hate to burst your bubble, but it's true. YOU ARE NOT SO IMPORTANT THAT OTHER PEOPLE WILL WAIT FOR YOU.
  New Zealanders are particularly bad at showing up on time. I can't count how many films I have been to where the first ten minutes have been marred by shuffling, dark figures etched against the screen, accompanied by whispered "'Excuse me... sorry... excuse me.... sorry, sorry...excuse me". No, we do not excuse you and saying sorry is not good enough. Even worse when said dark figures have large boxes of popcorn with them. You could get here in time if you hadn't been thinking of stuffing yourself full of noxious foodstuffs. If you had time to buy popcorn, you had time to be here, seated, with the rest of us. We've got this annoying "she'll be right" attitude, that says that little things don't matter and why should we worry about them. This was probably OK back in pioneer days, when life was about roughing out the outline of something new, but we suffer in the modern world, which is all about details and scheduling.
   We're not the only ones though. I once watched one of those "Lousiest airline in the world" type programmes on TV, and saw a Very Important Businessman ( a complete nobody) get very annoyed because he was 20 minutes late and the airline had not kept his plane waiting for him! The cheek of it! They had the gall to think that the other 200 passengers were as important as him. How do people get to be so deluded, as to think that the whole schedule of an international travel carrier, and the plans of hundreds if not thousands of other people would be changed for them, for ONE person?      What sort of upbringing, what sort of pandering to do they receive in life to think this way? I just don't understand some people. Well, quite a lot of people, really. It's enough to make me think I've got some form of Aspergers. Am I missing something here?

The Bats - Block of Wood

This is interesting for those of us in Christchurch. Besides the song being a great blast from the past, the building in the vid., the old ANZ Chambers building in High Street, is now totally destroyed, as are many of the other buildings pictured. This was filmed during the mid-eighties, before High Street became trendy, when it was still the sleazy end of town. The Sunrise Massage Parlour occupied the second floor of the building, with a brief appearance as a Mexican restaurant run by the owner of the parlour, staffed by some of the girls. Ex and I had a shop on the ground floor, and one day the spa pool in the parlour upstairs ruptured sending floods of water down into our shop. The plumbers were terrified they'd get AIDS! There were several fire callouts too, as the scantily clad girls lit the fire in the upstairs fireplace to get warm. Passersby reported that the building was on fire, not expecting that a commercial building would have a chimney. There's a facebook site about High Street now, trying to get it back on its feet. But sadly much of the area's notable character buildings have been demolished, so getting back to that funky vibe will be difficult.

I'm Tired Madeline Kahn Blazing Saddles

On the right blogsite this time

OOOps

Just managed to post a clip of Madeleine Kahn singing "I'm tired" to a very serious blog that I guested on a few months ago! Managed to delete it within seconds. Hah, talk about inappropriate, the blog's owner might be wondering what the Hell is this? Or he might quite like it. Who wouldn't like the Teutonic Temptress, Lily Von Schtupp? Will try to post on this blog, for your amusement.

White daffodils

One of the stranger complaints I've received at the Gardens is that we had too many white daffodils, and not enough yellow ones. A woman came in and asked if white daffodils turned yellower as they opened. The answer was no. "Then some fool must have gone crazy with the white ones" she replied.
     This person was under the impression that all 'real' daffodils are bright yellow - the old King Alfred strain that, although cheerful, can be a bit loud in some settings. Woodland, for example. I've written before about Wordsworth's daffodils, and that what he saw would in no way be bright yellow King Alfreds, but the quieter, paler "Lent lily", Narcissus pseudo-narcissus, that is native to England.

 

Narcissus 'Thalia'

 

  There are so many narcissus cultivars now that it seems a pity to just plant swathes of one kind. The paler narcissus are quietly refreshing, and 'good-doers' too. I'm enjoying a white narcissus called 'Thalia' at the moment - it really is lovely, almost orchid-like. Unfortunately, it seems to have a virus causing little brown marks on leaves and flowers, so I should destroy the bulbs after flowering, or put them in quarantine in some out of the way place and see what happens next year.
P.S. Noticed that the pansies planted in the same pot also have a virus-y look. Perhaps there's something in the soil. Must throw the soil out and scrub the pot well.

 

Just picked this morning, delicate pale narcissus and a few hellebores. Most of this bouquet are 'Earlicheer' with 'Thalia', one 'Soleil d'Or and some unnamed daffodils from previous gardeners.

Magnolia 'San Jose' is in its last magnificent throes, this photo was taken from the conservatory (the best viewing place) hence the odd window reflection at the bottom. And the end of my washing line, which should be full of drying cushion covers if only I can get off my bum and go and wash them!

 

Ponyo - Film Clip [True HD Quality]

Spirited away

Im having an easy, lazy day today. All the moving and cleaning has given me a backache and I woke up feeling sore and achy and washed out, sure signs that I'm overdoing things. So I had breakfast and went back to bed.  Someone rang my doorbell (no this is not an euphemism) about 9.20, so if it was you, sorry I didn't answer. It's great that my doorbell goes again, should stop people from hammering on the glass door.
  Started watching 'Spirited away' the other night, but it was too scary! This is one of the Studio Ghibli movies that I haven't seen, and I really like them. 'Ponyo' is probably my favourite, I love the part where she's running on the waves that become giant fish, but 'Princess Mononoke' is also great. (If I took up cosplay I'd be Princess Mononoke, although my figure is more like Ponyo's). But back to the scariness of Spirited away, the Japanese do a great line in spirits and ghosts and creepy things. I guess they're scarier to me because they are not culturally familiar - vampires, yawn, ghosts, yawn, zombies, yawn.
  A Japanese story I read many years ago has always stayed with me as the epitome of horror. A young prince, riding across the rice fields in a secluded valley, comes upon a beautiful peasant girl, and instantly falls in love. Unspeaking, she beckons him up into the nearby forested hills. He follows, entrapped, enraptured, hoping no doubt that she has plans to consummate their attachment. After much time she stops at the site of an old rundown hut; no one has lived there for many years. He follows her to the door of the hut, she pauses at the threshold, and turns to him, passing her hand over her beautiful face, which then becomes as smooth and white and featureless as the surface of an egg. The prince recoils in horror; he has followed a demoness to her lair! She disappears, and the forest echoes with hideous mocking laughter.
  I don't know what becomes of the prince after that. I guess it would put him off beautiful peasant girls for some time.