A gift! and odd musings

Opened the back door this morning to a gift from Thomas. A hare's foot, no kidding. We have no hares around here, so I guess he must have grabbed it out of someone's rubbish. At first I thought it was the remains of a rat, but it looked too weird, then I saw the toenails on it! Very peculiar. Of course, he loves it and plays with it. It's a pity he can't bring home some $100 notes.
    Going back to my old work place on Monday. My secondment time is up, and it's back to the future at the library. Don't really feel very positive about it, I hate going back to things once I've moved on. The good things are that I won't have to get up at sparrowfart, and won't have to drive into the madness of city roadworks that have made a Chinese puzzle out of Christchurch. The bad things are I'll have a lot more customers, all infected with the flu (I'm getting a shot) and more ghastly children who cough all over me. Better lay in a stock of Lomotil as well; I always seemed to have stomach bugs at the library, brought in by the ghastly children; there's always something "going around" the schools.
   Feel a bit tired of life at the moment, that feeling that you've seen enough and done enough and thought enough and felt enough to move on to your next incarnation. Sometimes I have to have a little lie down because I'm thinking too much and sleep is the only thing that turns my mind off. It would be amazing if you could have a holiday in another person's brain, but I can see it might not be very restful. Oh dear, I feel a lie down coming on.

Ibid

 

Today's random piccy: the walls of Este Castle, and the rose garden within the walls, taken on a warm early summer evening. It almost looks unreal, like a stage set for Romeo and Juliet, but it is real and authentic.

 

And the nightmare nearly came true. This morning I decided to park in a different car-park, Mainly because getting home from the other one is means running a gauntlet of obstacles. So I took another route, but missed both my first exit and my second. Alarmed to find I was beginning the run up to the motorway, I went down a side street and doubled back. But I was so tempted to just keep on driving; the sign said "Arthur's Pass --- xx kms" and I thought how pleasant it would be to spend the day driving to Arthur's. Perhaps a nice lunch, a little walk, and then stay the night, or go on to the Coast. One of these days I will do just that, be like Mole in the Wind in the Willows, and "hang spring cleaning", metaphorically speaking.
   I might even end up in Italy.

Road works

Christchurch is bedevilled by reconstructive road works at the moment. Practically every street has something being done to it to repair the ravages of the quakes. The problem is, it doesn't seem to be co-ordinated across the several different firms doing the work. Just going to the supermarket this afternoon had me driving around in ever-decreasing circles, dodging road-closures and road-cones and pumping, digging and dumping zones. It's a lot easier to stay home than venture out, but I've got to go to work tomorrow so no choice; I have to go a different route, since the street I normally take coming home is closed in three places. I've had a nightmare where I can't get back home at all, all the streets around my house are closed. And it's snowing. And getting dark.And I'm out in Sockburn (about five miles away) because the detours have railroaded me out there. Classic anxiety dream.
  And there's still subconscious trauma. A truck started up in the next street, with a low thrumming, and I realised I was bracing myself for the jolt of a quake to come. It's become second nature now, and will probably take many years to overcome.

Topsy-turvy

A cold afternoon, so I sat indoors and watched the movie Topsy-turvy, about Gilbert and Sullivan and the production of The Mikado. Great cast, great music, but probably did not get the acclaim it deserved because of the subject matter. Produced and directed by Mike Leigh, who is better known for his gritty modern movies like "Secrets and lies". Love the Victorian interiors and clothing; everything that could be decocrated was decorated, with bows and flowers and stuffed birds. Houses drowned in 'stuff', which we would now decry as clutter. It was a status symbol to have stuff, and the more stuff you had the more status you earned. The Japanese aesthetic of less is more must have seemed very puzzling, exotic and even crude to the Victorian mind, hence the fascination with Japonism and Japonaiserie. 
  But now I have to go and cook something for dinner. Why oh why is the desire to cook not consonant with the desire to eat?

The end of the golden weather

 

Finally, my aconite has flowered. It was growing here when I bought the house, and I always thought this plant looked like an aconite although it was quite weedy. So I left it in place and here it is. Also called monkshood, this is quite a poisonous plant, and was the stuff in the potion that the well-meaning Friar gave to Juliet. It's a pretty colour, but has rather weird-looking flowers.

 

Tonight is officially the end of summer; the clocks go back tonight, so no more Daylight Saving Time. We've had a good, hot summer, such as we've not known for many years. The farmers are complaining of course, but they've had fifteen years of wet summers to build up their finances, so I can't say I feel a lot of sympathy for them. I remember when we had a drought every year, it was quite an expected thing, so yah boo sucks, farmers. The last weeks have been glorious, especially at Easter, but now the weather has turned cold. Tonight I've cooked my first casserole of the year; the urge to get cosy and eat comfort food is growing with every day. I'm also baking a lemon cake to have for breakfast! (Not the whole cake; that would be piggy, even for me).

 

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House not garden

Some views of my house instead of the garden. Special emphasis on lightshades.

Funny old standard lamp. Mum bought it for me at McKenzie and Willis' Trade-in store, which was a goldmine of good quality secondhand furniture, but now, like many things, turned to rubble.   It's a bit munted, because it fell over during the quake. I like it because it reminds me of a howdah umbrella, used by a maharaja on his elephant. And I like fringes. Wall is Resene Raspberry.

 

The peachy hall-way (Resene Romantic) looking into the Pale Leaf bedroom. The TV is going; NZ is switching to digital, but as I don't watch TV I'm not going to bother buying a new one. The shell lampshade was a find at Redcliffs School Fair, tucked under one of the trestles. Bought it home, put it up, and it looked like it had been there all along.

 

 

The laundry which doubles as a flower-room - vases stacked on  high shelves. Not very earthquake-savvy, but my solution to having them cluttering up the kitchen cupboards. Note large pile of ironing - I hate ironing and put it off forever. Trim is Spring Green.

 

 

Bedroom complete with Thomas in sunlight. Macrame lightshade from St Mark's Church Fair. Pink handbag from library lost property, and white ewer from the old family house in Lyttelton. It was discovered in the coal-cellar, keeping company with a brass kettle.

 

View from the entry porch, which also doubles as a painting/drawing room. Roses are Whisky and Peace.

Random stuff

I want to write a fan-fiction where Dr Sheldon Cooper becomes the first atheist to have a vision of the Virgin Mary. What would he think? What is his field, anyway? Perhaps if he's searching for the God-particle, he might well find the BVM?

The children over the road had an orangeade stand yesterday. It was very festive, with lawn chairs and sun umbrellas and a Dora-the-Explorer tent in case customers felt the need for a lie-down. At one point, tinny recorded music played Christmas songs over and over again. Then played Vivaldi's Four Seasons at a completely manic pace, as if played by an insane but very clever monkey.  I had to laugh. I'd rather have this than a boom-box any day.