THE OLDER YOU GET, THE FASTER THE MONTHS AGO.

 The Older You Get, the Faster the Months Go.

Already it's April.  New Years day seems as if it was only a few weeks ago, but already we're into the forth month, the hours of day light are getting noticeably less and I've put a woolly jersey on.

The vegetable garden has been pretty successful allowing us to be self-sufficient.  Some things have done well, like peaches of which we picked about 60kgs.  Spuds are plentiful enough that there wont be a famine, sweet corn is better than anything you'd use from a tin and whilst tomatoes aren't as plentiful as previous years, quality is the best ever.  It's a cliché, so you've heard it before.  "Bought tomatoes are nothing but colour and tasteless texture", that's what my Dad used to say during his more positive moments.  Still to harvest are NZ yams and sweet potatoes, or as they are called over here, kumara.  Carrots are BIG. 

As winter draws closer, we have spent a few hours with the chain saws in the woods chopping up trees for next winter's warmth.  We did fell 3 trees, with a 30% success rate.  The first one landed exactly where we intended.  Buoyed by a false confidence and beginners luck we tried another.  As it fell it caught itself in the branches of another nearby tree.  Then I got the chainsaw stuck, but with a 1 ton jack, a piece of rope and some pushing and shoving, it came down.  Buoyed by a growing confidence we tried another.  All the angles were assessed, the wind accommodated for I started cutting a precise wedge.  Down it came, such satisfaction.  But then stopped.  It was truly stuck in a fork of branches of another tree.  We gave up to be rescued by our great next door neighbour, Tom.  Tom is a top top bloke.

The shorter days are producing the annual swathe of fantastic coloured skies at sunset and sunrise. 

As summer progressed it got dryer and dryer.  The grass in the paddock above us, the paddock that belongs to someone else who has planted thousands of what are known as 'NZ weeds' aka pine trees, grew longer and longer.  With the heat and drought the number of fires up and down the country increased and so did my fear of a fire in the field next door.  We wrote a polite kind friendly letter saying that we were worried about the increase fire risk, and "totally at our expense" can we do one of 4 things that would reduce the risk.  Three days later we received the unkindest email I have had since we have been here.  You would have thought we were asking him to remove every tree and give us the land.  As you know I'm a sensitive old codger.  It really really upset me and sent me into quite a dark place.  I've not felt like that for about 6 years (the aftermath of my Dad dying).  Both times were really horrible.  The only good to come out of it was that a lot of the great local folks in the valley were very kind and generous in their words to us.

It's all that dry long grass that worries me.

Yesterday I cleaned out the chicken house, and for the sake of good health and H&S I donned, in true NHS Covid style out of date PPE.  On putting on the N95 mask I exclaimed to myself "blimey, to think that for months I wore one of these most days for a large part of the day.  It became normal.  Don't anyone tell me that Covid was a conspiracy and never actually existed - of which there are many such people in NZ, who, because Jacinda did such an excellent job are in total denial, ignorant of the reality.  Poor Jacinda has left the country being told that security could not look after her and her child.  She is unsafe in NZ.  Shocking.

In full PPE

In those 4 months a few things have happened.  In February we went to visit Ali's wonderful aunt in Sydney.  Bryanne is a perfect host. We all have our routines and yet they all fit in together like a well made jigsaw, usually matching perfectly at 'coffeeo'clock' time.  I had a really wonderful birthday in Sydney, a yummy birthday lunch at the Royal Oak and then on the plane on the way home the wonderful QANTAS air crew noticed it was my birthday.  Back in cramped class I was brought champagne in a glass from first class, a chocolate cherry birthday cake without a candle, then a cup full of Lindt chocolate balls and just before landing a bottle of Margaret River Sauvignon Blanc with a personal hand written card from the air crew.  It made my day!!  They certainly know how to make an old man happy.

  

What put me off the in flight meals was that the 'lavatory services' tanker parked up alongside 'Sky Chefs'!!

Talking of flights across countries.  In my prep school days, when I was 8 or 9, when we lived in Tanzania and the school was in Kenya, I was put on a single engined Cessna , piloted by Jimmy Dodds who ran it as a charter plane and died a few months ago, to fly from Mwanza, Tanzania to Eldoret, Kenya - about 450kms and then transferred to the school for the term.  That was the last I saw of my parents for what seemed like several months.  I suppose it was a great experience, but really what I vividly remember is sitting there for most of the journey crying.

                                That's me, peeping over the back window, half heartedly waving.

The trials of living in the country next to a farm continue.  Over the past 4 days the Mum's have been separated from their calves.  The noise has been sad and loud as the calves cry for their mums and the mums call out loud for their calves.  To me it seems so cruel.  Then this afternoon they were separated of properly.  The calves chased down the hill by barking dogs and a fast motorbike, whilst the Mums were on the other side of the fence wondering where their babies were going, standing there just looking and wondering.  I could watch no more and had to leave.  I really felt an empathy for them.  Everyone was crying and was wondering what was going to happen to them next and why.

Sometimes questions are hard to answer.  Sometimes I don't get answers to the questions I ask.  I asked my brother what the 'misinformation' was that I had been accused of spreading.  No answer.  One of my big regrets in life is being a 'doormat' and taking the line of least resistance, usually resulting in getting 'putdown', gas lighted and stonewalled.  There are still a myriad of unanswered questions from 6 years ago.  I suspect I am being vilified or at least very surprised if I'm not!!  It is horrible to not be trusted, but to be untrustworthy to your family is a real challenge.  Was I a 1956 mistake?

This time I was not going to be 'DoorMatDick'.  Ali and I decided that we would ask the tennis club committee if they could create a good first aid box and install and AED.  The first aid box was as old as the club in a biscuit tin provided by the person who put it together.  On asking about the AED the reply was one simple word "WHY"?  Asking about the first aid box the reply was "well the medical centre is just up the road". It had passed them by that most tennis happens when the medical centre is closed, and the that the medical centre is like every other medical centre, horrendously busy.  The disinterest was alarming, but at least the suggestions weren't dismissed outright, a concept I became familiar with 6 years ago.  In the end we said "can we get the first aid box and AED"?  A muted 'yes' and equally muted enthusiasm came but we were told the club would would provide no funding.  After some great help and amazing generosity from a few casual players and a couple of grants both were realised.  It was quite satisfying to finally see it go up.

Feeling satisfied.

Work on the vineyard has started again, we had a few busy days picking grapes, enjoying good company and getting worn out.  

The good news is that when we take grapes to the winemaker in the white boxes we can then use 'AIMEE' to wash them.  It makes a long tedious job so much easier.  Aimee is a piece of wonderful home made kiwi ingenuity.  There she is.  Looking a bit like an old jet engine, and inside you see jets, water galore and of course an upturned yard brush.  It does an amazingly good job.

Of course 't get through this without mentioning my therapists and furry helpers.  As you can see, they love to get into the shed and help.  It is a pleasure having them there.  One morning we went down stairs and we had a resident family of quails, mum and dad with 7 tiny chicks.  So cute.

 

Word was out.  The 2^nd in the series of the LEGENDARY international Ruakokopatuna Quiz nights was about to start.  The auditorium was at near capacity, the car park full and the AED on stand-by.  The catering crew had produced varied, nutritional, halal certified and delicious meals, including SAMOSAS for less than $3 per head.  There were no queues, no wastage, no returns, no complaints and no trips to Pita Pit.  Ruakokopatuna Collective should get the school meals contract.  A P&O cruise would be embarrassed.

Badly Walsh was stuck at Hamad International Airport (of which country and city)? so he was substituted by an anonymous “pommie prat”, as was shouted from a disgruntled participant.

Participants travelled from far and wide, both intentionally and unintentionally, but it was a beautiful evening to follow Google Maps and have a drive to Tora and Cape Palliser.  It was lovely to welcome Martinbouroughians, Wainouimatians as well as a Vertmontian, such is the infamy of the evenings.

The beautiful babe on the boardwalk, Anthea, and the ever-delightful Samantha paraded and performed in the most appropriate way.  The hall was packed to the gunwales with 7 professorial teams, all of whom had someone that had been a child prodigy in their formative years.

Since the first quiz night technology in Ruakokopatuna has moved into the 22^nd century with a new digital display board remotely controlled by a black and red laser pen.

Amazing sound technology was provided by a major sponsor NatAndDon.  It made Panasonic sound fuzzy.  This time the questions and answers could be heard, even over the constant barracking, sledging and abuse.

The scoring system had been referred to Unysis after the first quiz following a few teething problems.  Consultancy fees paid off and it was all slicker than a spill from the sunken HMNZS Manawanui off Samoa.

The questions started, answers given and marked.  Objections like “this is meant to be New Zealand farming” from a farmer who couldn’t answer the simple question and “awwww pommie, what sort of question is that” were all ignored.  The question was “How many kilometres did William Hulke walk his Jersey cow Jenny in 1876 to introduce the breed to Taranaki? Answer: – 250 KMS FROM MARTON.  (wooops the substitute quiz ‘master’ forgot to say where from)!  “Jezzzus Badly, where do you get these questions from”? was the complaint.

All the while Anthea and Samantha were frantically working away on recording live scores powered by InfoSys.  We had winners and despite being given help on most of the answers we had a team who came an admirable 6^th.  Last year’s victors were not present to defend the trophy; this time ‘LiverWorts’, the renamed ‘Birds’ who came 2^nd last time, took the silver trophy and last year’s wooden spoon was passed onto a different team.  As usual the stunning array of prizes made Bruce Forsyth’s generation game look cheap. The Two Dollar Shop is in Masterton is the new Harrods on Oxford Street.  The competition for the Samosas was tough.  Drug tests were performed on the winners.

Oooooo It was all so exciting, wasn’t it? That made feedback such as “it was better than last time” and “it was worth coming over the hill for” all worthwhile.  If that was the assessment, imagine what the next one will be like, or should we just stop whilst we are ahead.  We’ve peaked!! 

If you weren’t there, look what you missed out on!   People even come from Vermont and Bordeaux.  If there is another you could experience a well organised shambles LIVE.  We have a pianist for the next one, if there is a next.

                                                                 The table of prizes.

Where is the highest filing cabinet?

However, at 08.49, Wednesday, the gates were open.  Getting in a tad early meant that we could then nip back to KITCHENERS to say goodbye to JASMINE.

We got to the end of the track, which has had the near sink hole sized potholes repaired, to come across 4 cones blocking ours and others progress to recycling skips.  The occupants of the other car were as bemused as us.

(see what I did there – 2 coalition government favourites in 1 sentence: Potholes and Cones).

Thinking something may have been forgotten I ambled in and disturbed the very helpful fella who was aspiring to be a youth again by furiously stroking his phone.  He looked up, “we’re closed”, but I seemed to experience the polar opposite.

“Would you like me to move the cones”?  I asked, thinking he was checking the score between Wigan Athletic and Charlton, there was a penalty to watch, and he’d forgotten the full opening-up procedure.

“Yeah-Nah” was his typically kiwi response.  I thought my offer of help was being embraced with a positive, but it was soon followed by “we’re not open; open at 10, you’ve got 8 minutes”.

“Ah yes, but the gates are open” I replied thinking I had some reasonable justification for my now increasingly dubious presence.

“We’ve got to get in” I was told.

“Might it be helpful to close the gates after you and then open them at 10”? I thought but was aware that I may be starting to tread on a hornet’s nest.  I only thought it.

That little exchange lasted about 3 minutes; we only had 5 to wait.  It was almost a win-win, except we never did get to say ‘Goodbye to Jasmine, we waited, and our friendly helpful fella had some more time to stroke his phone.  Wigan weren’t awarded the penalty, but I got to see more of the curious quirkiness of the Council.

At 8 seconds past 10.00 the cones were moved, and we were in.  I didn’t move them!!

We still wave the Palestinian flags, every Wednesday.  We still get abuse and support and recently someone came and did some busking for Gaza.  So far only 15613 children killed, 825 under 12 - clearly Hamas operatives. 8305 women and 22265 men.  On that basis Hamas was a pretty big multigenerational army.  This is not genocide, it is extermination.  And still every government sits back and watches it.  No one is calling for "regime change", not even Mr Blair who of course used to be the Middle East peace envoy!  Clearly a good job was done.