Month: November 2024

Eye catchers

Groovy glasses

My eye was caught by this picture (above) in a gift shop this morning. You could have a lot of fun decoding the messages in it.

As I walked home these signs caught my eye.

Even if you made it to the gate in 5 seconds it was wide open and the fence would be very easy for a dog to jump.

At the end of the street is a nice piece of roadside planting which could win the prize for best berm. It slopes down to a little wooden bridge over a creek. When I had dogs, they used to love running down and investigating the creek and shrubs on our walks. On the railing of the bridge I spotted two 50c coins with the ship Endeavour on one side. I liked the old large version of this coin.

Speaking of walking the dogs, this van pulled into a driveway in front of me and a woman, who looked fit and weatherbeaten, unloaded a shaggy brown dog.

On the other side of the road my eye was caught by these two flags on neighbouring houses:

On the left is the Hundertwasser flag and on the right is the United Tribes of New Zealand flag which dates back to the 1830s. Along with the Māori flag, it featured in the recent hīkoi mo te Tiriti.

At home, I looked at my collection of coins from here and around the world, but did not find one of the old 50c coins, just the old 20c coin, a 1936 penny (British), a 1945 penny and a 1947 half penny.

I used to wear the Japanese coins on my shoelaces as was the trend when I was in Japan. Apparently, there were holes in the middle of the coins so they could be threaded on string for safekeeping. The Danish coin has a hole so blind people can distinguish one coin from another. This made me think of the many things which could not catch my eye if I were blind.

On spec

In retirement, I’m outside so often it makes sense to have prescription sunglasses instead of using (when I remember) my old clip-on flip-ups.

It’s good to have found a pair of titanium frames by the same designer as my ‘normal’ glasses – and same colour – which I’ve had for almost ten years and which look new.

Although the glasses place (aka ‘Eyewear Gallery’) I have gone to for many years has changed hands, some of the same staff are there (wearing sensational specs) and they still have a range of interesting frames and the slogan ‘No boring specs allowed’. The store has kept its art deco vibe – and awesome technology. It cheers me up.

On seeing them, my brother mentioned Elton John. I was thinking more along the lines of Jackie O.

A fine vintage

The number plate on this Armstrong Siddeley made me stop and take a photo. It’s the same vintage as I am and wearing it well; similarly wide across the beam but still shiny.

The hood ornament is pretty ferocious. What I took to be a warrior holding weapons turns out to be a sphinx with wings mounted on jet engines. It looks as if it is crouching, but it is the jets reflected in the bonnet which create that impression.

New lawn mower barely cuts it

Some people prefer all hard surfaces in the garden, with pots and raised beds. I like a bit of green lawn too but no more than is manageable with a small hand mower. I tried the new mower yesterday and inspected the result this morning.

It’s a little unevenly mowed in places – where the dogs used to dig and the chooks had dust baths. When I had chooks I didn’t mow much at all so they could enjoy being up to their feathery bums in grass. Grass and weeds I should say. It is still quite weedy in places, which doesn’t bother me.

The new mower was quite a different experience from the old one. It felt as if you didn’t have to make any effort at all – and I do like to feel that I am getting exercise as I mow. The mower purrs along nicely not making a loud clacking as I feared it might.

However, the new mower seemed to make no impression on the lawn at all! For a panicked moment I regretted leaving the dear old Meteor at the shop. Luckily, you don’t have to muck about with spanners to lower the blades on the new mower. There are huge wingnut screws on each side. Even then, the catcher was barely half full when I finished mowing. Still, it looks tidy enough – especially with the edges done.

Here’s Felix, getting a bird’s eye view from the cabbage tree.

Lately, he’s been racing to the very top of the trees. Sometimes he chases his tail up there while I hold my breath down below.

Masport Meteor misses the cut

It’s goodbye to the old faithful family heirloom push mower this morning. The roller fell off again and, with the wheels looking about to follow suit, I decided to replace it with a new shiny mower. It was sad though, to leave it in the mower shop to be used for parts.

Old mower – although, I suspect the handle is not original. The new mower is behind it to the right.

The new mower is lighter and wider. You don’t need to put oil in little flip-lid points as it has sealed parts, but the manual recommends cleaning and oiling the cutting blades. There are huge, easy to use, screws for altering the height of the blades – which is good, as I like to have them high in summer. It is made in Durban, South Africa, whereas the Masport Meteor was made in New Zealand. I hope I don’t regret this decision!

Lost in a familiar place

Taking the bus into town this morning was a good option, on account of the rain. I got off at the Bus Interchange and exited through a familiar door, crossed the road, but failed to find the laneway I usually go along. I continued along the side of the building which looked different – but then we’ve become accustomed to things changing since the earthquakes – and found myself on Tuam Street, not at the Colombo Street Lichfield Street crossing.

Discombobulation. My head did a sort of mental spin as I reorientated. I walked along Tuam Street still calculating where I was, took a quick look over my left shoulder and was relieved to see the Port Hills where I thought they should be. I figured I was going in vaguely the right direction. I passed interesting lanes: Sugarloaf Lane and Te Pohue Lane and the Fluffy Bake Shop which, despite its name, had quite serious looking people in it. Ahead I could see one familiar landmark (i.e. pre-quakes): St Michael’s school.

I realised I was approaching the new (i.e. post-quakes) Justice and Emergency Services Precinct; the Police Station and District Court. It brought to mind a novel I’ve just read by local author Karen Zelas, about lawyer Rebecca Eaton who, similarly disorientated since the earthquakes, found her way about these very buildings. And sure enough, there was a young woman in professional clothes, carrying a load of files, getting into a waiting car (parked on yellow lines) on Durham Street. I borrowed the second book from the library yesterday.

With some relief, I crossed into Riverside Market for a takeaway coffee to jolt me back into familiarity before walking on to my singing class – which was fun, as expected.

Fallen foxglove

Foxgloves can choose to grow in the oddest places. I’m forever replanting them from pots and paving stones. This one has grown very tall – maybe 6 feet? – and wide, and has inadequate root space to anchor it. You have to dodge around it to get through the gate. Already bent over by the wind, it was defeated by the rain this morning and ‘fainted’ across the deck. The mighty foxglove fell and I didn’t hear it!

Bees were still visiting the flowers. Here’s one just backing out:

A rescue effort was launched – a bit late, but anyway. I cut off the top flower stem and put it in a watering can in the hope that the buds at the top might still open. Then I tied the remaining plant to a stake with some of Mum’s very useful old panty hose (the best use for panty hose in my opinion). Bees were all over it in no time.

Resurrected, minus top
Felix inspects the top stem

We will still be dodging around it to get out the gate, but that’s customary in my um, wild? overgrown? – ah, enthusiastic! garden.

Community Swimming Pool

Today there was the site blessing for our local swimming pool. The blessing was delivered, speeches given, the sod was turned, and children sang.

The roof of my house is in the background.

I spent many hours with my older nieces and nephew at the old pool. Then, early one morning in 2006, it was rather sneakily demolished before protests could begin. The council said it was not repairable and demolition was necessary. They did not intend to replace it.

Since then, the community has worked to fundraise for a new pool. The same process resulted in the old pool’s construction in the 1930s when the pool was dug out by manual, volunteer labour. My house was built around the same time. Today’s ceremony, with the turning of the sod, marks the beginning of the new pool construction.

It was good to see several councillors there, and our local representative, who has supported the new pool all along, spoke well.

In the last week, I watched council workers clearing the site over my back fence.

The port hills can be seen in the distance

Many trees along the perimeter are being retained including mature native trees such as kōwhai, tī kōuka (cabbage trees) and akeake, and also the elders – so I will be able to make elderflower cordial again this year. By this time next year, we may be hearing the happy sounds of children splashing in the new pool.

From the window

I leaned out of the sitting room window and took this photo this morning.

Is it every year that I say, ‘The roses have never been so good’? Is this year better than ever?

Still in my pyjamas, I took a photo from the front door.

Back inside the house, the little wooden chooks look in fear of invasion from the roses outside.

Felix was the only invader via a window this morning.

Which reminds me of his defenestration yesterday as I rescued a little blackbird from him which he’d brought inside. The parent birds almost followed Felix into the house, protesting loudly. I’m not sure that my efforts to save the wee bird were successful. Although it was pecking quite vigorously, it seemed unable to perch on a high branch. I ended up with bruises and scratches from scrambling through the garden and a gooseberry bush is looking a little flat after I fell on it. Fortunately, I offloaded the little bird into a hanging basket on my way down.

Isn’t nature wonderful? (And human efforts a bungling mess?)