Author: anneinabsentia

Not so good vibrations

Piles are being driven into the ground three doors along from me, where there was once a modest wooden house on a modest piece of land. The vibrations have put us on edge for several days now, but this morning seems worse. Our post-traumatic earthquake stress is reactivated. The ground is shaking. Plates are clattering on the shelf. The rose bush outside my window is trembling.

Pile-driver in action

I walked down to see for myself. How does that repetitive, bone-jarring work affect the operator of the pile driver, I wondered. A passerby who lives on an adjacent street told me he can feel the vibrations as he works from home. Messages from our street’s on-line chat tells me others are disturbed by it as well, and that two-storeyed townhouses are being built on this small site. One neighbour thinks that ‘the new city council flood modelling requires deep piles for high foundations’. Hearsay is that this is the last day of the work. Here’s hoping.

I can hear the clang of the pile driver and then a delayed deep thud and vibration. It’s driving me to do distracting things such as vacuuming and mowing the lawn.

Not censored here

Cineraria Silverdust is a truly striking plant producing deeply divided silver, fern-like foliage. This exquisite foliage plant will provide elegant colour accent to the garden creating both form and contrast. The bright yellow daisy-like flowers produced should ideally be removed.

https://www.zealandia.co.nz/products/growflora/cineraria-silverdust/

The feverfew (so prolific I call it ‘fever several’) is beginning to flower and with some cineraria silver dust flowers which had snapped off in the wind, I thought there was a touch of Van Gogh to this arrangement. As long as there are flowers which attract pollinators, I won’t remove them just to make a plant attractive for its elegance and form in the garden.

Spiced Coffee

I love the old-fashioned pink of the Spiced Coffee rose. Today I picked the first flower to open. It has a delightfully spicy scent.

There are more flowers to come which is lovely to see as the plant has had a hard life. I moved it to comparative safety in a pot and it is good to see it, still delicate, but thriving.

Adventurous lives

On a whim, I went into Adventure Books in the old Municipal Chambers building. Inside were many tales of derring-do by daring men – and at least one woman: a ‘Lady Pioneer‘.

There seemed to be a lot of snow and ice, but there on the bottom shelf was ‘Darkest Africa’.

Artefacts were on display, such as a ship’s sextant and, in a glass case, a first-aid kit and various mementoes of Shackleton’s expeditions. Even his skis were leaning casually against a wall beside a most persuasive advertisement.

It was a brief visit to another time of Boy’s Own Adventures and of one woman who had a taste for adventure – from the comfort of a sedan chair.

Ironically (or purposely?) two books along from hers is Everest the Hard Way by Chris Bonnington. There could be a lengthy discussion about which achievements, given all the odds, were the most difficult.

It’s all go at the beach

We are more warmly dressed than usual for our beach walk this morning; it is still cool after yesterday’s thunderstorm. The air is fresh and clear, with a brisk easterly wind. From the crest of the dune pathway, we can see three ships on the horizon. The Port Hills to the south are outlined against billowing ‘cauliflower’ clouds, and the distant Kaikoura mountains are clear to the north. At the foot of the dunes, families gather around Santa Claus for photos.

The sand is firm under our feet as we head north along the beach with many others, most with happy dogs. We pass a circle of people discussing the coastal environment. Overhead, a motorised kite flies by, turns and disappears into the distance. Two light aircraft follow the line of the beach, one is white and heading south, the other is red and travelling north. ‘It’s the Red Baron,’ I say.

Later, we heave ourselves upright from the log where we stopped for morning tea, and come upon two people launching colourful kites which swoop and glow against the bright blue sky. I count two dozen birds flying in formation and intersecting a jet trail – and, in this photo, forming an angle with the kite’s string line.

The kites make undulating shadows on the sand.

As we near the pathway we can see that the swim-between-the- flags are out in front of the surf club. Families are organising themselves for photos with Santa, choosing props such as hats, a cricket set, rugby ball, surfboard, and a bent (purposely?) Christmas tree – and even the Grinch – although he seems to have retreated to a distance now, perhaps to keep in character.

It’s perfect kite-flying weather. A local, walking by with her small terrier whose ears and fur are pinned back by the wind, asks us if we have been to the annual kite day – this is just a taste of it. The next one will be at the end of January in the new year.

I can see clearly now – and it’s still raining

I can see all obstacles in my way… (Thanks, Johnny Nash)

My new specs were ready this week. This morning I walked into Singing class in the rain and wind (my new Blunt umbrella blew inside out twice). After Singing, I returned a library book, picked up another, and went to Groovy Glasses to collect my specs.

The assistant fitted the glasses and adjusted them, then did the same for my prescription sunglasses which can be uncomfortable over the nose. After that, I indulged in a Belgian waffle at the Waffle Haus across the street and got my strength up for the rainy, windy walk home. Just as well: I had to hang on to my umbrella with both hands. (What’s more, I discovered my socks were damp when I got home. My waterproof ecco shoes are no longer waterproof – but they’ve had pretty solid use since 2018 when, on one occasion, I wore them on a boat to see puffins at the top of Norway*.)

The rounder shape of the frames gives the progressive lenses more scope, I think, and I’m hoping for improved performance when I’m reading or using the computer.

What do you think, Felix?

Felix is staying in today. I have put the fire on – in mid-November! The garden needs the rain.

*This reminds me of a game my friend and I played on our OE in 1981 when in Paris staying with a couple we’d met in Barcelona. The game was a bit of a competition about where our shoes had been. It began with: “These shoes have been on Machu Picchu,” I said. “These shoes have been on the Pyramids,” said our host, Elisabeth. Etc. She had been a ground steward for an airline and had the task of taking famous people – including Marlon Brando – sight seeing. I think she had the edge … or maybe it was a draw!

Companionable campanula

While I hate seeing invasive ivy choking tree trunks unchecked, campanula is a different story altogether. It is easy to control and doesn’t take over, being fine-stemmed, and there’s the benefit of the little blue star-like flowers. It creeps across the ground among other plants, popping up now and again.

Somehow, it has made its way to the back garden and makes a cosy blanket over the ‘Hamish’ statue of a boy reading a book (he was named by the staff at the plant nursery where I bought him). I can pull it away easily if I need to, but for now it looks charming. It has been joined by a Mexican daisy – ever the opportunist.