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Had a takeaway coffee at McCafe this morning, just to reward myself in
advance for the day ahead studying particularly dull tracts of poetry as part
of my English degree at the moment.

Yawn!

I have to say, I’m quite impressed
with McD’s efforts in establishing these McCafes; the coffee’s not too bad, and
I’m rather partial to their double chocolate cake and smoked chicken paninis…

But what’s this on the TeeVee last night? Sara Ulmer (NZ medal winning all-
round champion cyclist, ) promoting McD’s new “healthy”food range
(translation: bowled salads with lashings of calorific dressing, crispy coated
chicken burgers and…the $1 cheeseburger) ?

Me smells a large money-spinning
sponsorship deal type rat here. Honestly, how can she show her face on national
television and promote this food as being a healthy alternative? Her
credibility as she she’s shown cycling through rural New ZeaLand, subtle golden
“M”s on each lycra-d thigh has gone out the window quicker than a
BigMac meal on a Saturday night drive- thru.

Please, can’t someone else sponsor
our Sara?

It’s cold, it’s wet, I have three sweatshirts on, two pairs of socks, my
trusty purple sheepskin slippers and track-pants with baggy knees. Whoa, how
gorgeous am I! Added to this I’m pale, hairy and all dried out.

Mmmm…it must
be winter.

So, what exactly is great about winter, I have to ask myself. Ok, well it’s the
getting away with putting on a few extra pounds. It’s the eating chocolate
spongy pudding and cream for dessert, straight after a big roast meal with
loads of roast potatoes and gravy.

It’s the closing the curtains, turning down
the lights and snuggling up with my Other Harf and
him not minding I’m in my spotty flannelette PJs. And of course, it’s a
wonderful excuse to buy new clothes, for me and our little girl, in the winter
sales.

All for next winter of course…

I spent an hour or so last night on IM chatting to an American friend,
currently living in London with her
English husband (whom, I’m happy to say, I had a hand in introducing. It’s a
long story…). As a Kiwi married to a lovely Essex lad,
we compared notes and came to the definite conclusion that Englishmen are the
pick of the bunch.

So…justify yourself I hear you say!

Well, it’s the
understated masculinity that does it for me; a quiet, unassuming strength
accompanied by unfailing good manners. It’s the whole lack of blokey, he-man
bull***, and of course, you never have to go to the bar for a round of drinks.

Or…is that just a ploy to make sure your glass is always topped up?

OK, here I am, a thirty-something woman, writer, wife, mother, friend,
sister, student, daughter, aunt, (in no particular order) thinking maybe I
might have something of interest to say to the world, and hoping I can prove
so. And, jeez, do I have the biggest ever audience. Beats writing 300 word
“true life” stories for “That’s Life” magazine ,
readership @30,000 – hey, hang on, I got paid $200 for that one about the lost
puppy dogs….

Before I get stuck into it I just want to send GG a big huge thanks, all the
way from AKL to DC. Several bottles of Sauv. have your name on them
already…and Happy 4th July x