an eventfilled few days

You can tell when I'm overwhelmed,

cause blogging is the last thing on my mind.

Ok so the job interview (shhh!)

was fine.

It was weird to be interviewed by people you know

and Im pretty sure you don't normally go and

have a drink with one of the interviewers afterwards.

Plus my never ending 'flu

(confirmed by a doctor channelling Patch Adams yesterday)

reared it's stoopid head at about 1.17pm on Friday

so I drove with a foggy head,

meet Nig and Suzy with weepy eyes

and blocked ears

at the overrated Dunsandel Store

(I say that cause I always it to be so much better than it is

 and it just never is).

Then, as usual thought I had plenty of time

but didn't so ended up zipping along to my interview.

I struggled to finished my sentences or find thoughts. 

 I couldn't answer a question or two

but they would have been fibs* anyway.

What a space cadet I was.

I don't know why I applied for that job other than

the organisation seems like it would cool to work for,

the people you'd work with would be great,

the role is smaller than the one I have now

(more than one 'flu a winter gets you thinking)

and the pay is way better than what I'm on now.

Oh and a cooler car than what I've got now too.

Only thing is

I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT FARMING.

Actually I probably know more than I think I do,

that's what I told them cause it's true and Im honest*.

Then on Saturday,

the day the weather threw up on Canterbury,

I dragged my sick carcass to Supervalue to pick up

teenage boys to take them over to the Christchurch District Final.

That's Contest to you,

the first of the season.

Where I sat in a room with Dave and Victoria

interviewing young Contestants as part of the District Final.

22 ten minute interviews.

By the end I couldn't see properly

cause I had such a headache

but the sun had come out, it had warmed up a bit

and I was almost at the end,

my bed was calling....

when those flipping teeenagers wanted to go to the buzzer quiz round.

So I dropped them off,

went to the supermarket

and bought chocolate.

My diet has gone off the rails

but the weight stayed off cause

I have no appetite so one mouthful of chocolate does the trick

for an enture day's meals.

Man I was glad to get home

and crawl into my unmade bed

and sleep for a solid five hours before getting up

to watch not one but two rugby games.

I don't actually remember the games though.

Too tired I guess.

home again, home again, jiggy jig

I spent a wonderful two and a bit days in Queenstown

thoroughly enjoying 

Suzza and Wazza's hospitality.

I stayed with them in their well appointed, bespoke* home

from which the magnificent vista of Coronet Peak (skifield)

and Cardonna (also a skifield) can be viewed, breathtakingly.

Conversation flowed,

AB rugby was watched

(trounced France - voila!)

Richie Mccaw was capped with his 100th game cap

by the very ill and very strong Jock Hobbs.

Enough to make you shed a tear or two

except that we call had varying degrees of colds

so we had in fact been involuntarily crying the whole evening.

I ate bread

(sudden intake of breathe, with horror)

Oh did I eat bread!

Warm, crusty, artisan bread

with nothing but melting butter that made my saliva glands

weak with anitcipation for it's divine buttery, yeasty taste.

Not unlike the knees of any red blooded woman

when viewing Sonny Bill with his shirt off

(admittedly after seeing so many photos of Sonny Bill over the last couple of weeks,

his shirt off but over his head. 

I have realised this image in fact is a perfect way

of viewing him in all his buff, run like the wind glory).

My golly goodness warm, crusty bread dripping with butter

and a big, fat All Black win

and Mccaw's multitude of moments of well deserved glory,

good friends, new and old(ish)

plans for the future

(nope not moving to Queenstown,

my moisturiser bill would be too huge)

a comfy chair

and the softest pillows on my bed was bliss**.

If Suzza and Wazza ever invite you stay at their place,

take them up.

Lovely hosts thems were.

* Bespoke: Tossy, overused word to describe timeless, elegance and craftsmanship - a good word all the same and oft used by our man on the telly programme Grand Designs.

** I was not in bed at the time of said bread eating but had to mention the blissful, softness of good pillows in a bed warmed by an electric blanket - ahhhh.

Canterbury rugby

Yep went to the rugby today.

It was Canterbury against Taranaki.

Canterbury wear red and black,

'naki yellow and black.

That's all you need to know really.

I would love to say that I go to the rugby all the time,

but I don't.

Once a year and usually at the request of another

and this was the case with this annual attendance.

Neroli came to stay to watch her boy Luke

play for Canterbury but he is injured.

It's fine, really.

It's a fracture in his shoulder blade

nothing serious and something fine and little

that it took some effort on the doctor's part to find

but good thing he did cause otherwise

Luke may have been at the bottom of a heap.

Like these boys...

We had a great day in the sun

watching provincial rugby

but most importantly Canterbury won,

and rugby won on the day.

More importantly and such a pleasant surprise was

my kind of embarrassing, secret crush

the one that there is no logic about,

actually there is but none of you will ever figure it out

so we'll just leave as secret.

My kinda secret crush was playing!

For the other side

but he was there

*sigh*

Please don't enlarge this photo

it's extremely unattractive.

See no logic,

let's leave it at that.



Its a rant

At Grand Final two weeks ago

we had Brian Lochore speaking

at one of our dinners.

We have three gala dinners,

that's a lot of little black dresses....

Yesterday my coordinator cheerfully repeated a story

where he was on the welcome desk where people

collect their namebadges on their way into the dinner.

Sir Brian arrived and humbly said his name,

as NZ heroes would never assume anyone would know who they were,

which was good because coordinator boy

doesn't know who Sir Brian Lochore is.

He seemed to think that not knowing

an iconic kiwi hero and our guest speaker

was amusing.

This morning when I asked what was the story with

not knowing who Brian Lochore is

he shrugged and said he wasn't interested in rugby.

I tried to explain that it wasn't so much that

he didn't know who Brian Lochore is,

nor is it how interested you are in sports

cause I'm sure as hell not interested,

it's that Sir Brian is such a cultural icon that is like not knowing

what the All Blacks do

or saying Sir Peter Blake was just a sailor.

He just didn't seem to understand that knowing

a little bit of your cultural history actually makes you well rounded,

that not knowing what is common knowledge kind of stunts your mental growth,

hinders you fitting in with your equals

actually puts you on the back foot

because the baseline of common cultural understanding

is what creates a bond between strangers from the same land.

I asked him who he considered to be a kiwi icon

and came back with Norm Kirk

which surprised me as that is rather obscure.

When I asked why

the response was that he had learnt a little about him at school,

Norm Kirk shared my coordinators hometown

and he kind of knew his grandkids.

He didn't actually know why Norm Kirk

might be iconic....

he isn't particularly by the way....

I just can't believe this ignorance.

I explained that it wasn't acceptable to not know

general cultural history,

you don't have to know historical details

just who people are so you can relate to others from your own general culture.

But it's also that not being interested isn't acceptable,

especially when your career requires you to know who people are

as you are likely to be in contact with them one way or another.

I am just astonished that there are people out there who don't know who they themselves are.

canterbury

I hear Scribe's Canterberry!  East Cannterrberry!*  West Cannterrberry!*  North Cannterrberry!  South Cannterrberry!

When I think of Canterbury Rugby I think of Scribe's "If any" rap.

Not sure why but just know that like allegiance to a tractor brand,

unshakable and true,

perhaps a little on eyed too,

 rugby is a religion in Canterbury that is like no other province in NZ.

Mag's favourite returned missionary is moving to Canterbury to play rugby.

As pro for a club and the province and maybe for the big boys.

He will have to have skills honed from having nothing but rugby to play like these guys. 

Pretty sure he does since the Canterbury scouts approached him,

this is a very exciting thing.

* There is no East or West Canterbury - there is North (a dark and evil place that has a long story behind it that will need to wait for certain people to die), South (a pleasant place filled with people who small chips on their shoulders) then Mid (a stellar area of great rugby fans) and Central (which is Christchurch city, enough said)

can you feel it?

it's spreading you know? that World Cup thingee that's coming up next year



And believe me there are some doozey events being organised while it's on.... the events around the World Cup might actually be more exciting than the actual attraction.

Thanks Romain for the clip. The potato world has a wonderful champion in you!