Month: August 2025

Clean, green zine machine

There was a lively zine expo on in the foyer of the Art Gallery today. I came out of a WORD event about ‘The Fight for Freshwater’ in which the audience was very much my demographic, to be plunged into the creative world of much younger zine makers and fans.

Three enthusiastic tweens showed off their zines – and then I noticed someone who didn’t fit that demographic at all with his old-school, but very cool, hand-stitched zines.

Some zine makers from Otepoti Dunedin were upfront with their political views.

After the depressing news that our rivers rank (in more than one sense) with the world’s worst, I was cheered by this buzzing crowd, and by the beginnings of spring in the Gardens as I walked to my car in the rain.

Still useful after all these years

The anthuriums potted up and refreshed in their new pots.

I am keeping the old garden seat. I bought it for Mum a few decades ago when she was still living in the old house. It’s perfectly placed to put the clothes basket and pegs on when I’m hanging out the washing – and bringing it in. It’s also useful as a potting bench.

There’s an even older, broken bench lurking at the back of the garden. It’s made of wrought iron and timber, and is slowly rotting away in the undergrowth with acanthus and a climbing rose pushing through it.

This area is what I call my ‘woodland garden’, tiny as it is, with rocks and rotting logs and hellebores planted on the graves of my former cats, Holly and Skipper.

Take a seat – 20% off

My sister and I went to the garden centre with a couple of small specific items in mind. I came home with a new garden seat. (A slight exaggeration; my sister and my nephew collected the seat later in their trailer and delivered it to my house.)

My specific item was some potting mix to re-pot two anthuriums which were looking a bit tired. I took photos of them to show the garden centre experts in case they had some advice.

The plant on the left is bigger than the other
One has dry soil, the other seems to stay quite damp

As we walked in I noticed large signs advertising 20% off everything in store. I eventually found my potting mix and a pack of lettuce plants as well. Then my sister met someone she knew and began a long conversation. This gave me time to look around. That’s how I found the seat. It’s been in the back of my mind to look for a new garden seat as the old one has begun to fall apart. Added to my existing patio furniture, the new seat creates a friendly, conversational vibe.

As for re-potting of the anthuriums, it turns out I didn’t read the instructions closely enough. Pots of at least 200mm are required, it seems. Sounds like another trip to the garden centre. Yippee!

Put on a happy face

It is cheering to see the floral clock in Victoria Square sporting a smiley face. Usually, the planting is a bit uninspiring and old fashioned, which you’d expect with this kind of floral display. Some cheerful gardeners have come up with a new look.

I saw another cheerful piece of art in a mall this afternoon.

Similarly cheering, are the first flowers on a kowhai tree at my sister’s house.

Put on a Happy Face was written by Lee Adams (lyrics) and Charles Strouse (music). Here’s a taste:

And if you’re feeling cross and bitterish
Don’t sit and whine
Think of banana split and licorice
And you’ll feel fine

Watch Dick van Dyke perform it – with smiley faces – on YouTube here (there’s tap dancing).

Home help

At my sister’s house, my sister, Mum and I lifted our feet for the robotic vacuum cleaner busily doing its thing while we relaxed on the sofas. Here is it emerging from under the coffee table. It has little whirly whiskers, reminding me of the mechanical mice in Ray Bradbury’s story There Will Come Soft Rains. The mechanical mice sweep the floor and, while they disappear into the skirting boards, this robot cleverly parks itself on its recharging post.

Well upholstered

Mum has been hinting for years about getting these two stools re-upholstered. They were very shabby and worn. After visiting the amazing Cushion Couturier shop and discovering they offer upholstery as well as cushions – and even complete interior design – I had no excuse to put it off any longer. Yesterday, the stools were ready to collect; not only re-upholstered but repaired and polished as well.

Piano stool
Foot stool

The piano stool brightens up the hallway with a new, fresh, cotton-linen fabric chosen from the collection of the Cushion Couturier who artfully positioned it to show the best of the design. The foot stool, which I learnt has mahogany legs, is covered with fabric left over from the living room armchairs.

Mum’s not sure where the stools came from; they’ve simply been in the family for years. The piano stool had what looked like a lovingly home-made tapestry top of stitched flowers and was filled with kapok which poked out through the faded and worn fabric. A couple of dowels in the legs had broken. That the upholsterer was able to re-stuff and re-cover the stools and do detailed repairs is very impressive. We are delighted with their new look.

Stacking wood – with distractions

Winter isn’t finished with us yet and the firewood was running out. A fresh load arrived after lunch – we’re using the new wood on this evening’s fire. It took me three hours to stack it, about the same as usual: one hour per cubic metre, which included stopping to talk to neighbours passing by, and to rescue a little waxeye from Felix.

As I walked by with the wheelbarrow, I saw Felix grab the wee bird which was sitting on the fence. I, in turn, grabbed Felix by the scruff and the bird, to my surprise, flew straight out of his mouth and off into the distance. After that, Felix was showing off, playing with twine on the fence, chewing twigs, rolling in the sawdust in the wheelbarrow and climbing a couple of trees.

A happy ending for all: the bird, Felix and us, cosy by the fire.

Simple things

There’s a profusion of violets in the garden at the moment, and I was delighted to find this morning that the viburnum (possibly the variety viburnum burkwoodii Anne Russell) is beginning to flower. Perfect for the the tiny china vases I found in a Red Cross charity shop this week. I also picked some wintersweet to put in one of two smoky glass vases which were op shop finds several years ago. Simple things like this (and the UK magazine so titled) bring me calmness and delight.

Winds of Change

An intriguing and rather unsettling sculpture stands outside the Rangiora Library. I interpreted it as three responses to change. The man is holding onto his trilby hat as if unwilling to give up his social status. The hat and his hand obscuring his face limit his vision (or to hide his guilt, “Did I cause this?”). The woman is battling on through the storm, holding the child’s hand, and struggling with her voluminous clothing. The child is pointing back at what is coming toward them – fearfully, perhaps, but with a direct gaze. They are all precariously balanced on a tilting world.

I thought of the earthquakes, of course, particularly as Rangiora is where many people settled after they were displaced from the city. One of the poems around the base of the sculpture is about that.

The lower plaque is the title of the work and the sculptor’s name

I also thought of climate change. Perhaps this well-known local poet, Rangi Faith, was thinking of that too.

After these sobering considerations, I went to look for my friends and we foraged in the local op shops, like the woman in the sculpture gathering things about her against the inevitable

Winds of Change by Alison Erickson.