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Tuesday, March 28, 2006
So where the bloody hell are you?
Who? Me? Ahh yes, me.
Just a whole heap of 'bloglethargy' lately. *sigh* Here Down Under the clocks went back mid March... the nights are drawing in. Bugger. Or 'bagger' as Sproglet B remarked to her dad last night. Have no idea where she picked it up but it was too funny to shout at her for so we just explained that it wasn't a word she's allowed to use. She is developing a lovely Lancashire-cum-Kiwi accent. Sproglet A, who picks up accents quickly, is beginning to use that horrible questioning intonation... where every sentence rises at the end. Sometimes even in the middle if he pauses. Gotta knock that outta him somehow.
Well the darker nights have seen The Hubster and I order Seasons 2 and 3 of 24 from Amazon. Even with shipping they cost less than the price of a boxed set here and folk say England is expensive. We toured lots of yachts at the Auckland Boat Show. If a cruise is a rich persons caravan park, a yacht is surely the equivalent of a rich persons caravan. Only plusher. But boats don't float my boat, as they say. I'd rather have the caravan.
The tent hasn't seen the light of day since the Goat Island trip. Was hoping to take it out again for Easter but maybe I've acclimatised because although it's not cold, it's wet and windy out there. I don't need to listen to the pitter-patter of raindrops on my tent. I get that in my bedroom as our house has a tin roof. (And Shed Dweller thinks she has problems!)
I need to study. Having been here for almost a year, the Kiwis think I should now be understanding of their road rules and be driving on their licence and not my U.K. one. The theory test is basically multiple choice questions that you pay around £30 to answer. The Road Code can be done with the aid of a disc which replicates the format and questions you will be asked but when you get a question wrong, it doesn't tell you which answer was right so you never learn!!! I need to study because I can't afford to resit the test.
I have to close now. My pies are ready. Don't want them to burn now do we. Haven't had pies for ages. Yum, yum winter comfort food.
Friday, March 10, 2006
So where the bloody hell are you?
"The country that gave the world such risque comic acts as Benny Hill, the Two Ronnies and Little Britain has banned Australia's new "bloody hell" tourism ads from television because they are too rude."
Or so says our local news. So, for all you fellow Brits who are missing what is possibly one of the nicest shot tourism ads in all time, I present to you, the Bloody Hell Advert.
Reminded, once again, of just one of the reasons we left England.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Act 1 - Scene 1 - In The Pet Shop.
"Mummy what are these?"
"They are Guinea Pigs." Mumbles under breath, "Dirty, mucky, hard-clean-out guinea pigs."
"Can I have one mummy."
"Umm... no. You have fish."
"Can I have one instead of my fish?"
"Love, you can't just get rid of your fish. I know they aren't well, but you chose them as your special gift when we sold the house and we have to look after them best we can. Besides which, we can't have pets in our new house because it isn't ours is it? We just borrow it from the nice man and lady in Switzerland."
"Yeah I know."
"Next time, I'm gonna gerra toy instead. Or a guinea pig."
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Pinch, punch first of the month.
Autumn has arrived, bringing the cooler weather. Auckland should today reach highs of 23 c. Mmmm. I reckon somebody somewhere is pulling my leg. Rained yesterday. Hard. Sproglet A went sailing at French Bay. Two tiddlers to a boat. He was so nervous before he went but came home raving about it. In the eight months he has been at school here, they have taken him rock climbing, kayaking, orienteering and now sailing. It serves to remind us we why we left England. Opportunities such as this no longer exist in the UK. Shame.
Sproglet B and myself were supposed to go on a Kindy fieldtrip to the beach but rain interrupted play so she went to Kindy instead. Not a happy bunny. We will head off for a coffee and fluffy shortly. The gardener phoned to say she will be here at lunchtime. I don't really like to be here when she comes because she doesn't work for me. The gardens are included in the rent which is great as it means The Hubster doesn't have to mow the lawn. Once its been cut, it's as bad again within two weeks. All the colourful flowers are dying off now. We haven't spent a winter in this home so it will be interesting to see if the garden looks just as pretty in winter as it does in summer. Am I really talking about the garden? Must be getting old. Before you know it, I'll be 'pottering' *singger*.
I really have nothing to write home about. My life it currently all ticketty-boo, give or take the odd hiccup, and I feel that I write at my best when it's all gone tits up. Don't you find that too... that people write at their best when things aren't going to plan, if they're depressed, unhappy? Oh well. I guess I'd rather not blog than be miserable. I'm waffling now, I know. Thinking out loud. Think I'll update my blogrolling and go visit other, more-interesting-than-mine blogs. It's become sort of like my morning paper read. I can no longer buy the old Current Bun so I have to blog hop instead. Time for a brew methinks.
picture from Getty Images
edited using Adobe Photoshop CS2