I've never thought of myself as athletic, but there are certain sporting events that capture my imagination. No, not the rugby. I'm just not a true Kiwi in that regard - I have no interest whatsoever. But one event that usually has me checking the results is the annual Coast to Coast adventure race.
Over two days - or one, for the really ambitious - New Zealand's top adventure racers (and some from overseas) cycle, run, and paddle their way from one side of the South Island to the other, across the mountains and the plains to finish at Sumner Beach not far from here. Some are there to try to win, others just to say they did it.
There are usually a number of people I know among the competitors, often fellow members of my orienteering club. It's the sort of event I could imagine myself competing in - but only in my imagination, never in real life!
First, the attraction. I grew up spending a lot of time outside - climbing trees, swimming in the sea, clambering over rocks, making hideouts in the bushes. I think of myself as an outdoors person, but in a rather dreamy contemplative kind of way, not in terms of "further, higher, faster". When I think about the sports I find interesting, though, they are the ones that take place in natural settings - climbing, sea kayaking, adventure racing etc.
The hitch is, of course, the deadline. Those people who do the Coast to Coast just for the sake of doing it? They are still a whole lot faster than I'll ever be. If you don't finish the mountain run by a certain time, you are not allowed to complete the course. The fastest people in our orienteering club do courses more than twice as long as the ones I do, in less than half the time. The fastest ever runner of the Coast to Coast did it in ten hours or so. The slowest ever, twenty four hours. The maths doesn't stack up.
Do you believe that you can do anything you want to do? I don't. That is, I do believe that if I wanted to cross the island by foot, mountain bike and kayak, I could do it. Given a week or so. (But the safety infrastructure wouldn't be there at other times of the year, so I'd be unlikely to try it).
Given enough time, we can probably all do way more than we imagine. But some of us are always going to take longer than others. Fortunately, writing isn't a timed activity. Some poets write a poem a day (I did myself, for a month last April. Most of them were rubbish, but the experience was exhilarating). Other poets spend years perfecting each poem. In the end, it doesn't matter how many attempts and rewrites you make - what matters is the poem itself, the end result.
On the other hand, if you need to leap across a ravine, it has to be in one leap. If it takes you more than one, you're in trouble!
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Thursday, February 07, 2008
Readwritepoem: Clothing
For readwritepoem, where the prompt this week was clothing:
(Note: the original of this poem is laid out in a wave formation. I'm lacking the time to put all the tabs in. Might come back and do it later. I haven't written anything new for a while, so this is "one I prepared earlier")
Girl in a Ballgown
For your final school
ball you choose shot
satin, woven at cross-
purposes, the warp and weft
of it, purple of a ripe berry,
green of a new leaf.
I cut and pin and stitch
because this is one thing
I can do for you these
difficult years –
make you a skin that
fits. When you walk
you are sunshine on green
seas, you are purple cloud
shadows shifting on the waves.
You stand high-heeled on the table.
Your level-eyed father
pins the hem straight.
And suddenly you are fainting,
falling head first in a shimmer
of green waves, tumbling
ocean
ocean
ocean
until he,
playing Daedalus to your
Icarus, catches you just in time,
rewriting the old myths
(Note: the original of this poem is laid out in a wave formation. I'm lacking the time to put all the tabs in. Might come back and do it later. I haven't written anything new for a while, so this is "one I prepared earlier")
Girl in a Ballgown
For your final school
ball you choose shot
satin, woven at cross-
purposes, the warp and weft
of it, purple of a ripe berry,
green of a new leaf.
I cut and pin and stitch
because this is one thing
I can do for you these
difficult years –
make you a skin that
fits. When you walk
you are sunshine on green
seas, you are purple cloud
shadows shifting on the waves.
You stand high-heeled on the table.
Your level-eyed father
pins the hem straight.
And suddenly you are fainting,
falling head first in a shimmer
of green waves, tumbling
ocean
ocean
ocean
until he,
playing Daedalus to your
Icarus, catches you just in time,
rewriting the old myths
Friday, February 01, 2008
Catching Up...
A whole month into the year, and when I review progress I find I haven't done much towards my goals. The one thing I have done is to increase my level of exercise. I figure that if I manage one thing each month, I will get there in the end.
This weekend, anyway, may be different. I plan on tackling the first chapter of the family history, and I may even tackle a poem for readwritepoem, for the first time in a while. Mostly, I've been using the summer weekends for lawn mowing and gardening. This weekend that's off the agenda, because I made a visit to the doctor, and I have stitches in my back, so no heavy lifting or pushing for a couple of weeks.
I visited the doctor a week or so ago for some asthma medication, and she noticed a suspicious spot on my back which was why I went back to have it removed. When I was a child, it was quite normal to spend all summer on the beach, wih regular doses of sunburn. I recall peeling great strips of skin off with great glee! So I always figured this was going to come sooner or later, and it doesn't appear to be too serious - she thinks it may be a BCC (basal cell carcinoma) which is very slow-growing, but still not something you invite to stay for a long visit.
The trip for the asthma medication was overdue too, but the ongoing saga of the waterbed prompted me to visit - I'll save that one for another post.
In the meantime, here are some photos of the walking track I discovered while orienteering last week. We had another event this week, which was quite different - among flat suburbs with waterways and wetlands interspersed - lots of reeds, waterbirds etc. These Wednesday evening events are a series we have every summer around local streets and parks, and then for the rest of the year we mostly have Sunday events when we get out into the country more.
The track passes the bottom of a garden:
The view from the top:
I have a fascination with roots and rocks:
This weekend, anyway, may be different. I plan on tackling the first chapter of the family history, and I may even tackle a poem for readwritepoem, for the first time in a while. Mostly, I've been using the summer weekends for lawn mowing and gardening. This weekend that's off the agenda, because I made a visit to the doctor, and I have stitches in my back, so no heavy lifting or pushing for a couple of weeks.
I visited the doctor a week or so ago for some asthma medication, and she noticed a suspicious spot on my back which was why I went back to have it removed. When I was a child, it was quite normal to spend all summer on the beach, wih regular doses of sunburn. I recall peeling great strips of skin off with great glee! So I always figured this was going to come sooner or later, and it doesn't appear to be too serious - she thinks it may be a BCC (basal cell carcinoma) which is very slow-growing, but still not something you invite to stay for a long visit.
The trip for the asthma medication was overdue too, but the ongoing saga of the waterbed prompted me to visit - I'll save that one for another post.
In the meantime, here are some photos of the walking track I discovered while orienteering last week. We had another event this week, which was quite different - among flat suburbs with waterways and wetlands interspersed - lots of reeds, waterbirds etc. These Wednesday evening events are a series we have every summer around local streets and parks, and then for the rest of the year we mostly have Sunday events when we get out into the country more.
The track passes the bottom of a garden:
The view from the top:
I have a fascination with roots and rocks:
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
The Year Begins
Yes, I know it is late January. However this evening was the first orienteering event of the year. Each year we have a twilight series on Wednesday evenings in January and February, these are a little different from our regular events as they are on park and street maps, and are score events. That means instead of a set course to navigate as fast as possible, we have a set time to get around as many controls as possible, setting our own route. Each control is worth a set number of points, from 10 points for the easy, close ones, to 50 points for some of the further or more difficult controls.
Christchurch is mostly flat, but the mappers excel at finding the steeper parts for many of these events. Tonight's event started at a park at the foot of one of our hill suburbs. The map has a good section of flat land by the river, but I wanted the exercise of getting up the hill. So two of us, Sandy and myself, accompanied by dog, set off straight towards the hill and up a very steep climb by road and footpath right to the 50 point control at the top of the map, picking up a few other controls on the way. We were rewarded by a stunning view and the discovery of a pathway that I hadn't known about before, although I am fairly familiar with this part of Christchurch. And then I left Sandy and Jay (the dog) behind to walk back down, while I pushed myself a bit and managed a sort of slow awkward jog alternating with sections of brisk walking. I zigzagged down the hill picking up a number of controls and arrived back at the finish with about four minutes to spare. I have a feeling I had time for one more control, but with 20 penalty points for every minute late back, it didn't seem quite worth it.
I'm definitely considering returning to the area to explore the path I discovered, which seems to follow a ridge high above a valley - worth taking a camera, I think. I wonder where it ends up?
I have a feeling I'll be a little stiff tomorrow.
Christchurch is mostly flat, but the mappers excel at finding the steeper parts for many of these events. Tonight's event started at a park at the foot of one of our hill suburbs. The map has a good section of flat land by the river, but I wanted the exercise of getting up the hill. So two of us, Sandy and myself, accompanied by dog, set off straight towards the hill and up a very steep climb by road and footpath right to the 50 point control at the top of the map, picking up a few other controls on the way. We were rewarded by a stunning view and the discovery of a pathway that I hadn't known about before, although I am fairly familiar with this part of Christchurch. And then I left Sandy and Jay (the dog) behind to walk back down, while I pushed myself a bit and managed a sort of slow awkward jog alternating with sections of brisk walking. I zigzagged down the hill picking up a number of controls and arrived back at the finish with about four minutes to spare. I have a feeling I had time for one more control, but with 20 penalty points for every minute late back, it didn't seem quite worth it.
I'm definitely considering returning to the area to explore the path I discovered, which seems to follow a ridge high above a valley - worth taking a camera, I think. I wonder where it ends up?
I have a feeling I'll be a little stiff tomorrow.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Two-Part Poetry Post
For the past week or so the New Zealand newspapers have been full of the death of Sir Edmund Hillary, his life and the funeral plans. And so another death, although attracting quite a few obituaries and attention, has been rather overshadowed - the poet Hone Tuwhare, at the age of 86.
The link is to the tribute on our local library's website. His poems were lyrical, sometimes political, but accessible - he came from a working class background, while many other esteemed New Zealand poets were university educated.
You can read some of his poems here including "No Ordinary Sun", a protest about the bombing of Hiroshima, and "Albatross" (Kay, are you reading this? I thought of you when I saw that one). "No Ordinary Sun" was 11th on the list of New Zealanders' favourite poems, and Rain was in first place.
And now that I have left you some poetry to read, I have to confess I haven't written any myself for a while. Instead I thought I would offer a giveaway.
I have here a couple of sets of "Kiwi magnetic poetry". The words in these sets are New Zealand vernacular and rather colourful idioms of the sort that I can imagine a Southland cow cockie using (cow cockie = dairy farmer). I've thought of trying to use them in poems, which would be an interesting challenge. It occurs to me that if any poet could slip these into a poem and have them sound natural, it would be Hone Tuwhare.
So, I offer you a few of the phrases from the set. If you would like to win a set, leave a comment to that effect. I'm leaving the conditions of entry open. "Please" might do it, but I'll be more impressed if you offer an accurate answer as to the meanings of the phrases, or even better, an inaccurate but entertaining answer, or if you offer me a short poem using one or more of the phrases. Use your imagination. I'll leave the entries open for a couple of weeks to give you a chance to think about it.
stone the crows
across the ditch
bit of a dag
down the gurgler
shoot through
hit the sack
suck the kumera
sparrows fart
For more poetic inspiration (if you haven't come from there), hop on over to readwritepoem
The link is to the tribute on our local library's website. His poems were lyrical, sometimes political, but accessible - he came from a working class background, while many other esteemed New Zealand poets were university educated.
You can read some of his poems here including "No Ordinary Sun", a protest about the bombing of Hiroshima, and "Albatross" (Kay, are you reading this? I thought of you when I saw that one). "No Ordinary Sun" was 11th on the list of New Zealanders' favourite poems, and Rain was in first place.
And now that I have left you some poetry to read, I have to confess I haven't written any myself for a while. Instead I thought I would offer a giveaway.
I have here a couple of sets of "Kiwi magnetic poetry". The words in these sets are New Zealand vernacular and rather colourful idioms of the sort that I can imagine a Southland cow cockie using (cow cockie = dairy farmer). I've thought of trying to use them in poems, which would be an interesting challenge. It occurs to me that if any poet could slip these into a poem and have them sound natural, it would be Hone Tuwhare.
So, I offer you a few of the phrases from the set. If you would like to win a set, leave a comment to that effect. I'm leaving the conditions of entry open. "Please" might do it, but I'll be more impressed if you offer an accurate answer as to the meanings of the phrases, or even better, an inaccurate but entertaining answer, or if you offer me a short poem using one or more of the phrases. Use your imagination. I'll leave the entries open for a couple of weeks to give you a chance to think about it.
stone the crows
across the ditch
bit of a dag
down the gurgler
shoot through
hit the sack
suck the kumera
sparrows fart
For more poetic inspiration (if you haven't come from there), hop on over to readwritepoem
Saturday, January 19, 2008
The Debate about Cloning
Earlier in the week the FDA released a report about the safety of meat from cloned animals. Since I'm in New Zealand, it didn't figure too highly in our newspapers, and I first read about it in blogland.
Here's a link to an article in the Washington Post
I have to say that I didn't find the standard of debate about the issue to be very high. So I thought I would raise a few points on the issue:
1) Firstly, since a large majority of people want to know what they are eating, I think it makes good sense that food that is the product of cloned animals or their offspring be labelled as such. Just as I want to know whether my food is produced in New Zealand or imported, even though it is all safe to eat. I have my reasons...
On the other hand, maybe it occurred to the FDA that the more information on labels, the more cluttered they get, and the less they get read anyway...
2) Most of those who don't want to eat meat from cloned sources seem to have only one reason as far as I can see - and it's not so much a reason as an emotional reaction i.e. "Yuck!" or "Gross!"
Actually, that's the reaction that children commonly have when they find out how the "natural" method of reproduction works. Fortunately for the survival of the human race, they usually get over it.
3) Since artificially cloned animals are enormously expensive, their meat is not likely to reach the market place in any significant quantities. Nor are female cloned animals likely to produce enough offspring for the market place - what is more likely is that cloned male animals will be used to provide semen for breeding, so the most likely scenario is the offspring of a cloned male and a non-cloned female.
4) The offspring of a cloned animal is not a clone (unless you do it all over again). Just as if you have an IVF baby, that child's offspring are not therefore IVF children, unless they go through the same procedure. Nor is the child of a twin (a natural clone) automatically a twin, just because their parent is.
5) Oh yes - about twins - they are natural clones. That's what a clone is, when you divide a bunch of cells to produce an exact replica of the individual. So of course, since farmers breed for twinning (even the organic ones) we've all been eating clones for a long time.
6) Do you have any friends who have had babies by IVF treatment? The process of cloning is pretty much the same, with one added step. I would have said "clinical" rather than "gross".
7) Cloning is not genetic engineering. Cloning aims to produce an exact replica. Genetic engineering, on the other hand, aims to produce something new, for instance introducing a gene segment from another plant into maize to make it more pest resistant. Or perhaps introducing a strawberry gene into an apple to give us strawberry flavoured apples?
8) Just possibly, the reason why the FDA said that it is safe, is that after seven years of study, they have found that it actually is safe. Of course, they may have missed a subtle risk. In my opinion, the world is full enough of obvious risks, like smoking, or being knocked down crossing the road, or food poisoning from eating spoiled food, without worrying about the subtle ones.
There are far nastier things done to food that we should worry about - like feeding animals large amounts of hormones and antibiotics, which encourages antibiotic-resistant bugs.
9) Reason to become a vegetarian? That's one common reaction I've seen. Well, meat may be cloned but that's nothing to the amount of genetic modification that is going on with crops. For instance, plants that are naturally pest resistant. Sure, the farmer uses less pesticides, which must be a good thing? Ummm.. maybe not, since the pest resistance comes from a high natural level of compounds toxic to bugs (and maybe humans). It's almost enough to make me want to give up eating plants and live solely on meat!
10) If you really want to avoid eating meat from the offspring of clones (not, as I said, the hugely expensive clones themselves), then by all means eat certified organic produce. Or New Zealand lamb, since we still produce it the natural way over here, as far as I know. Personally, I don't eat organic. It costs twice as much. It's better for my health to have some money spare so that I can buy running shoes, keep warm in winter and pay for a few other necessary things.
Comments? Always welcome, provided you read what I say and respond thoughtfully and intelligently. (Of course my readers always do that, don't they?)
Here's a link to an article in the Washington Post
I have to say that I didn't find the standard of debate about the issue to be very high. So I thought I would raise a few points on the issue:
1) Firstly, since a large majority of people want to know what they are eating, I think it makes good sense that food that is the product of cloned animals or their offspring be labelled as such. Just as I want to know whether my food is produced in New Zealand or imported, even though it is all safe to eat. I have my reasons...
On the other hand, maybe it occurred to the FDA that the more information on labels, the more cluttered they get, and the less they get read anyway...
2) Most of those who don't want to eat meat from cloned sources seem to have only one reason as far as I can see - and it's not so much a reason as an emotional reaction i.e. "Yuck!" or "Gross!"
Actually, that's the reaction that children commonly have when they find out how the "natural" method of reproduction works. Fortunately for the survival of the human race, they usually get over it.
3) Since artificially cloned animals are enormously expensive, their meat is not likely to reach the market place in any significant quantities. Nor are female cloned animals likely to produce enough offspring for the market place - what is more likely is that cloned male animals will be used to provide semen for breeding, so the most likely scenario is the offspring of a cloned male and a non-cloned female.
4) The offspring of a cloned animal is not a clone (unless you do it all over again). Just as if you have an IVF baby, that child's offspring are not therefore IVF children, unless they go through the same procedure. Nor is the child of a twin (a natural clone) automatically a twin, just because their parent is.
5) Oh yes - about twins - they are natural clones. That's what a clone is, when you divide a bunch of cells to produce an exact replica of the individual. So of course, since farmers breed for twinning (even the organic ones) we've all been eating clones for a long time.
6) Do you have any friends who have had babies by IVF treatment? The process of cloning is pretty much the same, with one added step. I would have said "clinical" rather than "gross".
7) Cloning is not genetic engineering. Cloning aims to produce an exact replica. Genetic engineering, on the other hand, aims to produce something new, for instance introducing a gene segment from another plant into maize to make it more pest resistant. Or perhaps introducing a strawberry gene into an apple to give us strawberry flavoured apples?
8) Just possibly, the reason why the FDA said that it is safe, is that after seven years of study, they have found that it actually is safe. Of course, they may have missed a subtle risk. In my opinion, the world is full enough of obvious risks, like smoking, or being knocked down crossing the road, or food poisoning from eating spoiled food, without worrying about the subtle ones.
There are far nastier things done to food that we should worry about - like feeding animals large amounts of hormones and antibiotics, which encourages antibiotic-resistant bugs.
9) Reason to become a vegetarian? That's one common reaction I've seen. Well, meat may be cloned but that's nothing to the amount of genetic modification that is going on with crops. For instance, plants that are naturally pest resistant. Sure, the farmer uses less pesticides, which must be a good thing? Ummm.. maybe not, since the pest resistance comes from a high natural level of compounds toxic to bugs (and maybe humans). It's almost enough to make me want to give up eating plants and live solely on meat!
10) If you really want to avoid eating meat from the offspring of clones (not, as I said, the hugely expensive clones themselves), then by all means eat certified organic produce. Or New Zealand lamb, since we still produce it the natural way over here, as far as I know. Personally, I don't eat organic. It costs twice as much. It's better for my health to have some money spare so that I can buy running shoes, keep warm in winter and pay for a few other necessary things.
Comments? Always welcome, provided you read what I say and respond thoughtfully and intelligently. (Of course my readers always do that, don't they?)
Friday, January 18, 2008
Sunday Scribblings: Fellow Travellers
(No, it's not Sunday. Apparently that's how Sunday Scribblings works. Write a post on the prompt, and post it on a day that's not Sunday).
For some reason I read the prompt "fellow travellers" and recalled it as "travelling companions". I must have seen that prompt somewhere else recently. "Travelling companions" brings to mind friends on a quest, for instance Frodo and his companions in "The Lord of the Rings". Or alternatively, the travellers in the "Canterbury Tales", who met on the journey, and travelled together on a pilgrimage, because in dangerous times there is safety in numbers. I think of the tales they told each other to while away the time on the journey.
We don't really seem to travel that way any more. I don't, anyway. Of course I travel with other people sometimes - almost always my family. I don't think of my family as travelling companions, or fellow travellers, because of course they are so much more than that. They are - well, family.
Other than that, modern travel discourages getting to know the strangers around us. From what I've seen on long plane journeys, people don't pay too much attention to the people in the neighbouring seats. Other than to hope they won't be seated next to a squalling infant, or an obnoxious drunk, that is.
We travelled around the UK in a rental car, some of it on motorways, which were filled with fellow travellers, all tucked away safely within their own hurtling balls of metal, where no interaction is possible. And we stayed in bed and breakfasts where we arrived fairly late in the day, went out for a meal and returned in time for bed. And then in the morning we got up, showered, had breakfast and left. We weren't without human interaction - we visited quite a few friends and relatives, but they weren't fellow travellers - they were on their home territory.
Most bed and breakfasts these days seem to provide separate tables at breakfasts for the guests. I'm told it wasn't always like this. And then, there was that one place at Shrewsbury. There were two large tables in the dining room, and we were seated around one of these with, yes, fellow travellers. There were a young American couple who were taking the opportunity to travel around Britain by train. They don't have the opportunity for train travel in the US, he said. Well, a few years back, my daughter travelled vast distances around North America by Amtrak - but then, America and Canada are huge countries, so I suppose there are even vaster distances where the trains don't reach. And then there was a Welshman, who had travelled for quite different reasons - his wife was in the hospital. I can't remember what we talked about much. I do remember that for half an hour or so, I enjoyed the feeling of being in the company of fellow travellers.
For some reason I read the prompt "fellow travellers" and recalled it as "travelling companions". I must have seen that prompt somewhere else recently. "Travelling companions" brings to mind friends on a quest, for instance Frodo and his companions in "The Lord of the Rings". Or alternatively, the travellers in the "Canterbury Tales", who met on the journey, and travelled together on a pilgrimage, because in dangerous times there is safety in numbers. I think of the tales they told each other to while away the time on the journey.
We don't really seem to travel that way any more. I don't, anyway. Of course I travel with other people sometimes - almost always my family. I don't think of my family as travelling companions, or fellow travellers, because of course they are so much more than that. They are - well, family.
Other than that, modern travel discourages getting to know the strangers around us. From what I've seen on long plane journeys, people don't pay too much attention to the people in the neighbouring seats. Other than to hope they won't be seated next to a squalling infant, or an obnoxious drunk, that is.
We travelled around the UK in a rental car, some of it on motorways, which were filled with fellow travellers, all tucked away safely within their own hurtling balls of metal, where no interaction is possible. And we stayed in bed and breakfasts where we arrived fairly late in the day, went out for a meal and returned in time for bed. And then in the morning we got up, showered, had breakfast and left. We weren't without human interaction - we visited quite a few friends and relatives, but they weren't fellow travellers - they were on their home territory.
Most bed and breakfasts these days seem to provide separate tables at breakfasts for the guests. I'm told it wasn't always like this. And then, there was that one place at Shrewsbury. There were two large tables in the dining room, and we were seated around one of these with, yes, fellow travellers. There were a young American couple who were taking the opportunity to travel around Britain by train. They don't have the opportunity for train travel in the US, he said. Well, a few years back, my daughter travelled vast distances around North America by Amtrak - but then, America and Canada are huge countries, so I suppose there are even vaster distances where the trains don't reach. And then there was a Welshman, who had travelled for quite different reasons - his wife was in the hospital. I can't remember what we talked about much. I do remember that for half an hour or so, I enjoyed the feeling of being in the company of fellow travellers.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
What I've Been Doing
Not blogging, obviously. Although I've still been visiting other blogs, and occasionally commenting.
My part holiday came to an end, and as of this week I am working fulltime again. I am also trying to keep my goals for the year in mind, so here are a few things I've been doing:
1) Walking. I started off the year a bit erratically, but I'm having fewer and fewer days when I don't exercise. Last Friday I went for a particularly long walk, as I reached the top of the track seemingly almost effortlessly, and decided to leave the track to wander across the hills (allowed, as it is a public park even though it is also farmed). And then I came across a barbed wire fence. I figured I could cross it right by the post where it was a little lower, but I got stuck half way across. And I didn't want to rip my good trousers. Eventually after fruitlessly trying to unhook them, I decided that the best way would be to take them off. Once they were down around my thighs, I had enough slack to unhook myself, and I finished climbing over, did up my trousers and turned round to find a mob of curious sheep staring right at me...
2) Transcribing testaments from the 1600's, including those of my 7x great-grandparents. I was about to start writing the first section of the family history - but I've had images of these documents for quite a while, and only partially succeeded in deciphering them. Finding a full transcription of one of them in privately deposited papers in the Stirling Archives, I thought it would help with the others. Think archaic handwriting, archaic language, messy crammed up handwriting, ink blots, and show through from the other side of the paper.
I've also been practising my Photoshop skills by trying to clean up the images in Photoshop to make them more legible.
3) Sweating. It's been hot. Up to 34 degrees (in the nineties, for those of you using Fahrenheit still). No doubt our Australian cousins think that's quite cool, but it is hot for New Zealand, and we don't have air conditioning.
4) Trying to gather information and fill in complicated bureaucratic forms with details of my income so that my son can get a student allowance. It is means tested on parental income for students under 25, and they go on the last tax year. Since our income has dropped since then, we have to have it reassessed.
S. also has to give details of his income. He put "zero" and now they want proof of his zero income, eg a letter from an employer!!
5) Putting all my holiday photos (the ones I had printed, anyway) into an album. And then I found I'd missed one out, so I moved them all so that they would be in the correct order. And then I found three more I had missed out.... yes, I moved them all again! I'm a bit anal sometimes, can you tell?
So, now I should stop blogging and get back to the form filling...
My part holiday came to an end, and as of this week I am working fulltime again. I am also trying to keep my goals for the year in mind, so here are a few things I've been doing:
1) Walking. I started off the year a bit erratically, but I'm having fewer and fewer days when I don't exercise. Last Friday I went for a particularly long walk, as I reached the top of the track seemingly almost effortlessly, and decided to leave the track to wander across the hills (allowed, as it is a public park even though it is also farmed). And then I came across a barbed wire fence. I figured I could cross it right by the post where it was a little lower, but I got stuck half way across. And I didn't want to rip my good trousers. Eventually after fruitlessly trying to unhook them, I decided that the best way would be to take them off. Once they were down around my thighs, I had enough slack to unhook myself, and I finished climbing over, did up my trousers and turned round to find a mob of curious sheep staring right at me...
2) Transcribing testaments from the 1600's, including those of my 7x great-grandparents. I was about to start writing the first section of the family history - but I've had images of these documents for quite a while, and only partially succeeded in deciphering them. Finding a full transcription of one of them in privately deposited papers in the Stirling Archives, I thought it would help with the others. Think archaic handwriting, archaic language, messy crammed up handwriting, ink blots, and show through from the other side of the paper.
I've also been practising my Photoshop skills by trying to clean up the images in Photoshop to make them more legible.
3) Sweating. It's been hot. Up to 34 degrees (in the nineties, for those of you using Fahrenheit still). No doubt our Australian cousins think that's quite cool, but it is hot for New Zealand, and we don't have air conditioning.
4) Trying to gather information and fill in complicated bureaucratic forms with details of my income so that my son can get a student allowance. It is means tested on parental income for students under 25, and they go on the last tax year. Since our income has dropped since then, we have to have it reassessed.
S. also has to give details of his income. He put "zero" and now they want proof of his zero income, eg a letter from an employer!!
5) Putting all my holiday photos (the ones I had printed, anyway) into an album. And then I found I'd missed one out, so I moved them all so that they would be in the correct order. And then I found three more I had missed out.... yes, I moved them all again! I'm a bit anal sometimes, can you tell?
So, now I should stop blogging and get back to the form filling...
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Little Things Make a Difference
i finally had a bunch of holiday photos printed, while there was a special offer on at a local stationery shop - 15 cents a print. Then I went rummaging in cupboards as I had a feeling I had an old photo album or two tucked away. And yes, I did find one that was completely empty, and had space for 500 photos.
There's only one problem - it was produced in the days when photos were printed 3 x 5 inches, and mine are 4 x 6 inches. It doesn't seem as if it is a big difference, and yet the layout for 3 x 5 fits five photos to a page by careful layout, whereas the newer albums for 6 x 4 prints only manage two to a page.
It suddenly occurred to me that we waste huge amounts of resources just by insisting on making things a little bigger and better.
Oh the other hand, a suggestion I saw that we would save several tons of iron if everyone used one less staple a day seems ridiculous. (Wouldn't it be better to use fewer tin cans instead?)
There's only one problem - it was produced in the days when photos were printed 3 x 5 inches, and mine are 4 x 6 inches. It doesn't seem as if it is a big difference, and yet the layout for 3 x 5 fits five photos to a page by careful layout, whereas the newer albums for 6 x 4 prints only manage two to a page.
It suddenly occurred to me that we waste huge amounts of resources just by insisting on making things a little bigger and better.
Oh the other hand, a suggestion I saw that we would save several tons of iron if everyone used one less staple a day seems ridiculous. (Wouldn't it be better to use fewer tin cans instead?)
Friday, January 04, 2008
Still in Holiday Mode
I have to go to work today, which seems almost attractive. At least I am looking forward to spending the day in an air-conditioned room. It's been hot here. Not Texas hot, but hot enough for a temperate-climate lass like me.
So, I am still easing into my goals for the year by spending a lot of time "clearing the decks". (Translate: reading old magazines and occasionally throwing one into the recycling). I've sorted photos from my trip, and historic family photos that I scanned into the computer, and had some printed while a local stationery shop was offering 15 cent prints. I did a little light gardening later in the afternoon yesterday, and by the time I was done I was dripping with sweat, which didn't encourage me to go for a vigorous uphill walk. But after all, I'm on holiday, right?
I know when our plums are nearly ripe because I start hitting my head on the branches when I walk along the path. They are weighed down with their burden. I found myself contemplating the idea of lying on the lawn under the umbrella-tree and gazing at the sky. Probably a better way of spending my time than playing sudoku on the computer. I may try it over the weekend. It won't be long before the lawn is covered in squishy ripe plums and then it will be way too messy for bathing in dappled light.
Oh, and I missed posting yesterday, so I am officially not joining the group who plan to write a blog post every single day of 2008. Well, that's a relief!
So, I am still easing into my goals for the year by spending a lot of time "clearing the decks". (Translate: reading old magazines and occasionally throwing one into the recycling). I've sorted photos from my trip, and historic family photos that I scanned into the computer, and had some printed while a local stationery shop was offering 15 cent prints. I did a little light gardening later in the afternoon yesterday, and by the time I was done I was dripping with sweat, which didn't encourage me to go for a vigorous uphill walk. But after all, I'm on holiday, right?
I know when our plums are nearly ripe because I start hitting my head on the branches when I walk along the path. They are weighed down with their burden. I found myself contemplating the idea of lying on the lawn under the umbrella-tree and gazing at the sky. Probably a better way of spending my time than playing sudoku on the computer. I may try it over the weekend. It won't be long before the lawn is covered in squishy ripe plums and then it will be way too messy for bathing in dappled light.
Oh, and I missed posting yesterday, so I am officially not joining the group who plan to write a blog post every single day of 2008. Well, that's a relief!
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Cute Furry Animals
The trouble with being on holiday is that I tend to sleep in. And the best part of the day, when it's cool enough to garden, walk etc is first thing in the morning. The southern hemisphere sun can be harsh on the skin in summer, however I did manage to get out for a walk today in that narrow window of time between "too hot to move" and "dinner time". I found myself puffing and panting, but I hope that will change within a few weeks.
And now, back to our family visit to Orana Park, as mentioned in the previous post. We rarely get all our "children" together now that the youngest is twenty, however we had a real family outing with only one of the five missing.
Orana Park is not a traditional zoo but a safari park, with the animals in spaces as wide open as possible, and moats in preference to heavy wire fences.
Mostly, we followed around a route timed to catch feeding times of the various animals. Of course, being summer holidays, there were big crowds all doing the same thing. So we didn't get a very good view of the lions which are one of the most heavily fenced animals for obvious reasons.
Never mind, I think the giraffes are actually way cuter. And it is possible to get up close and personal at giraffe feeding time - they seemed quite happy to keep eating, and eating, to satisfy the long queue of waiting visitors.
Also high in the cuteness factor are the meerkats:
and the otters:
These are Asian small-clawed otters. They are more social than most otters, and spend more time on land. Apparently they are an indicator species - that is, if you have otters in a river or stream then it is an indication that the stream is healthy and unpolluted.
The otters are very frisky and act like a chorus line - they would be sitting in a grass, and all of a sudden would all dash off almost as one, with pauses to tumble over each other.
I suppose if we lived a more primitive life then we wouldn't be thinking of these animals as "cute". We'd be more concerned with whether they were good food, or whether they were competing with us for fish, or similar concerns. And I have to admit that from reports of how some of the animals can bite and scratch, they may be cute and appealing only at a suitable distance.
What's that they are eating? One young visitor was rather squeamish to see that they were eating whole one day-old chicks. Her father teased her about it: "Oh look, he's chewing on the beak". And then when she had had enough, he said, "We'll go somewhere else - somewhere they are eating two-day old chicks." I can't say that it bothered me - as long as I don't have to eat one myself!
And now, back to our family visit to Orana Park, as mentioned in the previous post. We rarely get all our "children" together now that the youngest is twenty, however we had a real family outing with only one of the five missing.
Orana Park is not a traditional zoo but a safari park, with the animals in spaces as wide open as possible, and moats in preference to heavy wire fences.
Mostly, we followed around a route timed to catch feeding times of the various animals. Of course, being summer holidays, there were big crowds all doing the same thing. So we didn't get a very good view of the lions which are one of the most heavily fenced animals for obvious reasons.
Never mind, I think the giraffes are actually way cuter. And it is possible to get up close and personal at giraffe feeding time - they seemed quite happy to keep eating, and eating, to satisfy the long queue of waiting visitors.
Also high in the cuteness factor are the meerkats:
and the otters:
These are Asian small-clawed otters. They are more social than most otters, and spend more time on land. Apparently they are an indicator species - that is, if you have otters in a river or stream then it is an indication that the stream is healthy and unpolluted.
The otters are very frisky and act like a chorus line - they would be sitting in a grass, and all of a sudden would all dash off almost as one, with pauses to tumble over each other.
I suppose if we lived a more primitive life then we wouldn't be thinking of these animals as "cute". We'd be more concerned with whether they were good food, or whether they were competing with us for fish, or similar concerns. And I have to admit that from reports of how some of the animals can bite and scratch, they may be cute and appealing only at a suitable distance.
What's that they are eating? One young visitor was rather squeamish to see that they were eating whole one day-old chicks. Her father teased her about it: "Oh look, he's chewing on the beak". And then when she had had enough, he said, "We'll go somewhere else - somewhere they are eating two-day old chicks." I can't say that it bothered me - as long as I don't have to eat one myself!
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
Happy New Year
2007 was an interesting year - we weren't very far into it when it took a turn that I hadn't anticipated, so my goals were sidelined while I did other things.
While I never expected to find myself working full time, I've really enjoyed my second job and don't anticipate going back to part-time work anywhere in the near future.
Still - with a new year on us, and feeling adjusted to the new workload, I think it's time that I stopped procrastinating and found ways to achieve some of the things I hoped to achieve last year, and didn't. So no resolutions - I'm not strong on resolve - but several goals for the year, which at some stage soon I may turn into a poster for my studio wall.
Firstly, I really want to write the family history - a project I embarked on about five or six years ago, expecting it to take a year. Of course there is always more that can be researched, but having made the trip to Scotland, I think it's time that I acknowledged that I should preserve the research I have done in written form, even if it is not complete (and probably never can be). When I wonder what I would do if I was told I had a year to live, this is the one thing that comes to mind - get the research into a form that can be shared with the rest of the family.
Secondly, last summer I spent six months walking a lot, eating healthily and reducing my weight by 13 kgs (about 29 lbs). Once I started full time work, and winter arrived, that all faded away, and what with too much Christmas chocolate and candy I've put about 3 kgs back on again. That's not too bad - I'm still 10 kg lighter than I was. So this year I want to reduce my weight by another 13 kgs, and increase my fitness as well (I'm a bit vague on measuring the latter part, but my orienteering results should give me some record of my improvement).
Thirdly, I'm inspired by January who records her poetry achievements in the sidebar of her blog - numbers of poems written, acts of poetry committed each week and so on. I want to increase the number of journals my poetry has appeared in by at least one. This is not really in my control of course, but what is in my control is to spend more time writing, a lot more time editing, and to send more submissions out into the world (and not always to the same fall-back journal that has published my poems before).
Fourthly, become a whiz at Photoshop.
And then, there is the usual plan to keep the house and garden better organised, procrastinate less, blog more, play fewer computer games, be kind to the environment - and did I mention procrastinate less?
I have in mind trying to do a blog post each day, without being too rigid about it. Coming soon, photos of our family visit to Orana Park, but here is a taster:
Meet Jabba the ten year old (still juvenile) tuatara, one of the world's most primitve living reptiles.
While I never expected to find myself working full time, I've really enjoyed my second job and don't anticipate going back to part-time work anywhere in the near future.
Still - with a new year on us, and feeling adjusted to the new workload, I think it's time that I stopped procrastinating and found ways to achieve some of the things I hoped to achieve last year, and didn't. So no resolutions - I'm not strong on resolve - but several goals for the year, which at some stage soon I may turn into a poster for my studio wall.
Firstly, I really want to write the family history - a project I embarked on about five or six years ago, expecting it to take a year. Of course there is always more that can be researched, but having made the trip to Scotland, I think it's time that I acknowledged that I should preserve the research I have done in written form, even if it is not complete (and probably never can be). When I wonder what I would do if I was told I had a year to live, this is the one thing that comes to mind - get the research into a form that can be shared with the rest of the family.
Secondly, last summer I spent six months walking a lot, eating healthily and reducing my weight by 13 kgs (about 29 lbs). Once I started full time work, and winter arrived, that all faded away, and what with too much Christmas chocolate and candy I've put about 3 kgs back on again. That's not too bad - I'm still 10 kg lighter than I was. So this year I want to reduce my weight by another 13 kgs, and increase my fitness as well (I'm a bit vague on measuring the latter part, but my orienteering results should give me some record of my improvement).
Thirdly, I'm inspired by January who records her poetry achievements in the sidebar of her blog - numbers of poems written, acts of poetry committed each week and so on. I want to increase the number of journals my poetry has appeared in by at least one. This is not really in my control of course, but what is in my control is to spend more time writing, a lot more time editing, and to send more submissions out into the world (and not always to the same fall-back journal that has published my poems before).
Fourthly, become a whiz at Photoshop.
And then, there is the usual plan to keep the house and garden better organised, procrastinate less, blog more, play fewer computer games, be kind to the environment - and did I mention procrastinate less?
I have in mind trying to do a blog post each day, without being too rigid about it. Coming soon, photos of our family visit to Orana Park, but here is a taster:
Meet Jabba the ten year old (still juvenile) tuatara, one of the world's most primitve living reptiles.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
And Now for Something More Festive..
I have been crazy busy, but I thought it was time to post something a little more festive than my previous whine about inconsiderate real estate agents.
These are photos I took at one of the conservatories in the Christchurch Botanic Gardens yesterday. The staff have gone to quite an effort to make these displays. Poinsettias are out of season here, so trickery is involved in getting them to bloom so richly.
These are photos I took at one of the conservatories in the Christchurch Botanic Gardens yesterday. The staff have gone to quite an effort to make these displays. Poinsettias are out of season here, so trickery is involved in getting them to bloom so richly.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Bah Humbug!
I arrived home from work and Christmas shopping this evening to find a real estate agent's sign nailed to the corner of our fence. No, my husband hadn't put the house on the market in my absence. I had a fair idea of what was going on, but I had to inspect the sign more closely to check it out. It was, in fact, advertising a house for sale just up a private right of way which runs from the end of the cul de sac by our house.
It happened once before. We rang the estate agent to complain, obtained an apology for putting it there without our permission, but let it stay. After all, our beef was with the agent, not with the neighbours who were selling their house.
This time, I rang the day time phone number rather than the agent's cell phone. It costs money to ring a cell phone, whereas local calls to a landline are free. I got the answering service who had the agent call us back. My husband took the call.
Her explanation? Well, she was going to put the sign on the other side of the alley, and she was going to ask permission, but the neighbours said "the sign was there" (ie on our fence) "when we bought the place". "Yes" P said "and we complained then too, and were promised it wouldn't happen again". (Different agent, of course).
What is more, she gave some excuse about how the fence was along common property, ie the access lane. She seemed to think that this made the fence somewhat common property as well. That would be very nice. Maybe the neighbours would contribute funds to help us repair it, which it will be needing very soon. No? I didn't think so.
So, the sign is coming down. All she needed to do was ask nicely in the first place, maybe with a box of chocolates or packet of Christmas mince pies as a "thank you", and she would have no doubt been given permission. An arrow pointing up the lane to make it clear that it wasn't our house on the market would have helped, too. (The sign displayed the house number involved, but it wasn't all that obvious).
Our neighbours on the other side had their house on the market and it sold in a week. The house market is crazy around here, the estate agents are doing very nicely for not much work. Five minutes and a few dollars is surely not too much to ask?
It happened once before. We rang the estate agent to complain, obtained an apology for putting it there without our permission, but let it stay. After all, our beef was with the agent, not with the neighbours who were selling their house.
This time, I rang the day time phone number rather than the agent's cell phone. It costs money to ring a cell phone, whereas local calls to a landline are free. I got the answering service who had the agent call us back. My husband took the call.
Her explanation? Well, she was going to put the sign on the other side of the alley, and she was going to ask permission, but the neighbours said "the sign was there" (ie on our fence) "when we bought the place". "Yes" P said "and we complained then too, and were promised it wouldn't happen again". (Different agent, of course).
What is more, she gave some excuse about how the fence was along common property, ie the access lane. She seemed to think that this made the fence somewhat common property as well. That would be very nice. Maybe the neighbours would contribute funds to help us repair it, which it will be needing very soon. No? I didn't think so.
So, the sign is coming down. All she needed to do was ask nicely in the first place, maybe with a box of chocolates or packet of Christmas mince pies as a "thank you", and she would have no doubt been given permission. An arrow pointing up the lane to make it clear that it wasn't our house on the market would have helped, too. (The sign displayed the house number involved, but it wasn't all that obvious).
Our neighbours on the other side had their house on the market and it sold in a week. The house market is crazy around here, the estate agents are doing very nicely for not much work. Five minutes and a few dollars is surely not too much to ask?
Friday, December 14, 2007
Snapshots
I didn't really intend to take such a long blogger break in December, but one thing and another intervened. Once I stop posting regularly, it seems harder to get started again. with daily posts, I post the daily trivia, but none of that seems quite important enough for a weekly or less frequent post. Nothing for it but to jump in where I am.
****
A month ago our grapevine had large areas of curled up dead leaves where it had been caught by a late heavy frost in October. Now, I walk across the lawn and the brown grass crunches beneath my feet and blades snap off. The grape vine is covered in long curling tendrils coming across the yard to greet me.
****
Seen from my car - a blackbird swinging on a chain link fence, its long tail pivoting up and down for balance.
****
I went to check our electricity meter, having received an estimated bill (it saves on labour costs if they only read the meter once every two months). Inside the meter box were three small foil-wrapped Easter eggs. Where did those come from? I'd swear they weren't there the last time I looked a couple of months ago, so they strays missed in our Easter egg hunt. A mystery. What a shame they didn't seem quite edible any more.
****
A month ago our grapevine had large areas of curled up dead leaves where it had been caught by a late heavy frost in October. Now, I walk across the lawn and the brown grass crunches beneath my feet and blades snap off. The grape vine is covered in long curling tendrils coming across the yard to greet me.
****
Seen from my car - a blackbird swinging on a chain link fence, its long tail pivoting up and down for balance.
****
I went to check our electricity meter, having received an estimated bill (it saves on labour costs if they only read the meter once every two months). Inside the meter box were three small foil-wrapped Easter eggs. Where did those come from? I'd swear they weren't there the last time I looked a couple of months ago, so they strays missed in our Easter egg hunt. A mystery. What a shame they didn't seem quite edible any more.
Monday, December 03, 2007
Layers of History
The prompt over at read.write.poem this week was to "play with your parts". That is, to take three different parts of our lives - three towns, or three hobbies, or three jobs, or three people, and mix them up in one poem.
I have had some ideas but none of them have made them to a finished poem yet (or even a first draft). However, I realised that this poem which I wrote recently does mix up a number of different periods in history, so I thought it was at least partly relevant to the prompt to share it here.
And yes, it is a first draft, so suggestions will be considered.
The Crows at Stirling Castle
All afternoon the crows have been casting themselves
off the castle walls into the air. The tourists below
group in small knots around tartaned guides,
look down the steep cliffs but not up
to where the crows hover in dynamic stillness.
They are surfing the wind.
They are heedless of our attention,
they are heedless of the ox carts
that trundle up the steep slopes
with ale and salt herring,
of the bakers in the kitchen,
of the weavers in the tapestry workshop.
They hover above royal baptisms
and coronations, they scatter only briefly
when cannons hammer the castle walls.
A white feathered figure leaps to join them,
and plummets in a scatter of feathers
They disperse and regroup.
It is not “murder, murder” that they cry
as dark cloaked figures conspire in corners.
The crows have their own business to attend to,
hanging motionless in the updrafts
above the cliffs.
I have had some ideas but none of them have made them to a finished poem yet (or even a first draft). However, I realised that this poem which I wrote recently does mix up a number of different periods in history, so I thought it was at least partly relevant to the prompt to share it here.
And yes, it is a first draft, so suggestions will be considered.
The Crows at Stirling Castle
All afternoon the crows have been casting themselves
off the castle walls into the air. The tourists below
group in small knots around tartaned guides,
look down the steep cliffs but not up
to where the crows hover in dynamic stillness.
They are surfing the wind.
They are heedless of our attention,
they are heedless of the ox carts
that trundle up the steep slopes
with ale and salt herring,
of the bakers in the kitchen,
of the weavers in the tapestry workshop.
They hover above royal baptisms
and coronations, they scatter only briefly
when cannons hammer the castle walls.
A white feathered figure leaps to join them,
and plummets in a scatter of feathers
They disperse and regroup.
It is not “murder, murder” that they cry
as dark cloaked figures conspire in corners.
The crows have their own business to attend to,
hanging motionless in the updrafts
above the cliffs.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Poetic Fruits
At read.write.poem this week we were asked to write poems about food, and more particularly, Jill discussed writing about fruit.
I was going through the photos of our trip and came across a bunch of photos of blackberries which combined with a column on language in our Saturday newspaper to inspire this poem (bear in mind, it is a first draft only):
Blackberries
In country lanes we pause in the rush
from one castle to another, and gather
blackberries.
We ignore scratches to reach
for the juiciest branches,
learn to judge which are ripe and sweet.
The Hopi, they say, see the world differently
– see “wave” and “flame” and “meteor”
as verbs. Let us celebrate
the impermanence of blackberries.
Consider “blackberry” as a verb,
meaning “to ripen” “to gather water
and sunshine” “to fall into reaching hands”
“to stain lips and fingers purple"
I was going through the photos of our trip and came across a bunch of photos of blackberries which combined with a column on language in our Saturday newspaper to inspire this poem (bear in mind, it is a first draft only):
Blackberries
In country lanes we pause in the rush
from one castle to another, and gather
blackberries.
We ignore scratches to reach
for the juiciest branches,
learn to judge which are ripe and sweet.
The Hopi, they say, see the world differently
– see “wave” and “flame” and “meteor”
as verbs. Let us celebrate
the impermanence of blackberries.
Consider “blackberry” as a verb,
meaning “to ripen” “to gather water
and sunshine” “to fall into reaching hands”
“to stain lips and fingers purple"
DNF
"DNF" stands for "did not finish" in orienteering. Which was what I did on Sunday, both with orienteering and with NaBloPoMo. Yes, this post (and the one before it that I just posted) are my first since Saturday, so I didn't manage a post a day for November.
I should have had plenty of time on Sunday evening to entertain or bore you with my orienteering exploits, depending on your tastes. The event was held about an hour's drive away from Christchurch, across the Canterbury Plains to the foothills of the Southern Alps. We were in a valley with a marshy bottom with many side creeks feeding into the main stream, surrounded by slopes covered in pine forest.
I've had trouble on this map before, for some reason. Sunday was about my worst performance yet, though. The first three controls were well apart from each other, which gives more room for errors in navigation. And I made plenty of those. Usually I'm out for an hour and a half or under, but it was more than an hour when I was searching for the fourth control, and my legs were running out of steam trying to cope with the very rough ground. So I decided that I would head up the valley where the fourth control was located, to a path above it, from where I could easily get to the forest road which curves around above the valley, and walk back.
I never did find the fourth control. Nor did I find the path, which is apparently rather indistinct. Instead I climbed higher than I planned, and had an even longer walk back from further along the forest road. In the open. In the sun. It was 28 degrees on Sunday (in the eighties if you are American), which is unseasonally hot for November in New Zealand where it is officially still spring. It took me about another hour to walk back. And by the time I had driven an hour or so back home, across the plains with the hot northwesterly wind blowing, I had a headache coming on, which grew worse and stayed with me for the rest of the day. So, I napped, had a bath and washed my hair, emerged long enough to cook dinner, napped some more, managed to do the dishes, and went to bed early. No blog post.
Which is a bit of a relief, as I was running out of things to post about, and my posts were getting a bit lame. Now, I can post when I have something to say.
I really need to work on my navigation skills. I think my problems with this map occur for two reasons - firstly, I tend to rely too much on a network of paths for navigating from, and this map doesn't really have any - and secondly, all the little side streams tend to look very much like each other.
Well, there is always next year!
I should have had plenty of time on Sunday evening to entertain or bore you with my orienteering exploits, depending on your tastes. The event was held about an hour's drive away from Christchurch, across the Canterbury Plains to the foothills of the Southern Alps. We were in a valley with a marshy bottom with many side creeks feeding into the main stream, surrounded by slopes covered in pine forest.
I've had trouble on this map before, for some reason. Sunday was about my worst performance yet, though. The first three controls were well apart from each other, which gives more room for errors in navigation. And I made plenty of those. Usually I'm out for an hour and a half or under, but it was more than an hour when I was searching for the fourth control, and my legs were running out of steam trying to cope with the very rough ground. So I decided that I would head up the valley where the fourth control was located, to a path above it, from where I could easily get to the forest road which curves around above the valley, and walk back.
I never did find the fourth control. Nor did I find the path, which is apparently rather indistinct. Instead I climbed higher than I planned, and had an even longer walk back from further along the forest road. In the open. In the sun. It was 28 degrees on Sunday (in the eighties if you are American), which is unseasonally hot for November in New Zealand where it is officially still spring. It took me about another hour to walk back. And by the time I had driven an hour or so back home, across the plains with the hot northwesterly wind blowing, I had a headache coming on, which grew worse and stayed with me for the rest of the day. So, I napped, had a bath and washed my hair, emerged long enough to cook dinner, napped some more, managed to do the dishes, and went to bed early. No blog post.
Which is a bit of a relief, as I was running out of things to post about, and my posts were getting a bit lame. Now, I can post when I have something to say.
I really need to work on my navigation skills. I think my problems with this map occur for two reasons - firstly, I tend to rely too much on a network of paths for navigating from, and this map doesn't really have any - and secondly, all the little side streams tend to look very much like each other.
Well, there is always next year!
Haiku: Boulders, Rocks, Stones and Pebbles
Haiku for One Deep Breath:
a granite landscape
in the cleft of a boulder
a tree shelters
these fallen stones
a roof open to the sky
the hearth grows cold
And a bonus photo, which I love but haven't come up with a haiku for yet:
Feel free to leave a haiku in response to the last photo.
All photos were taken in Scotland during September.
in the cleft of a boulder
a tree shelters
a roof open to the sky
the hearth grows cold
And a bonus photo, which I love but haven't come up with a haiku for yet:
Feel free to leave a haiku in response to the last photo.
All photos were taken in Scotland during September.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
As I Was Going to Strawberry Fair...
When I decide to play catch up with all the chores waiting to be done I always seem to end up with less done than when I do nothing. That's not really true, of course, it's just that when I stop ignoring all the jobs waiting to be done, I'm very aware of what's still not done at the end of the day.
This weekend I decided to get busy with the garden, the laundry, the poem submissions waiting to go out, and some piled up administration for a magazine that I work for (unpaid), among other things.
I did take a little time out to take some photographs in the garden. As we were away all September, which is the first flush of spring growth here, it has rather got away on me.
This is the edge of the lawn I was trying to cut:
I handled the edges by digging them with a spade rather than using the mower. (Oh yes - buttercups and daisies - hence the "Strawberry Fair" reference in the title of the post)
The grape vine will soon need pruning - it produces much more prolifically if properly pruned (a sentence with an abundance of "pr" words)
Poppies growing in the front border - I planted them in about May or June and they have done well, even though the weeds are thick around them.
This weekend I decided to get busy with the garden, the laundry, the poem submissions waiting to go out, and some piled up administration for a magazine that I work for (unpaid), among other things.
I did take a little time out to take some photographs in the garden. As we were away all September, which is the first flush of spring growth here, it has rather got away on me.
This is the edge of the lawn I was trying to cut:
I handled the edges by digging them with a spade rather than using the mower. (Oh yes - buttercups and daisies - hence the "Strawberry Fair" reference in the title of the post)
The grape vine will soon need pruning - it produces much more prolifically if properly pruned (a sentence with an abundance of "pr" words)
Poppies growing in the front border - I planted them in about May or June and they have done well, even though the weeds are thick around them.
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