Kiwifruit

*Exhibit A*, right, we have yet another furry marsupial overstayer, gripping onto a manuka tree in our backyard for dear life with a look of patent fear and bewilderment after being pursued through a bed of agapanthus and chased up a manuka tree by a deliriously crazed hound from hell.

 And here, a short time later, we have Exhibit B: one very remorseful hound tied up on the verandah and an extremely silly one at that, one who had to be physically dragged from under said manuka tree, salivating extensively from the corner of her mouth, hackles hoisted, yipping hysterically, with eyes fit to pop out of her skull. 

Ah yes, Pippa: she’s all about the “self-control.”

I’m feeling a bit mopey today, for various reasons. Tomorrow I’ve got to show up at Whangarei District Court for jury duty, which is highly inconvenient, in that I really can’t be arsed going and am thinking of letting them sting me with the $300 fine for not turning up instead, good responsible New Zealand citizen that I am.

But, as I am a person in between jobs (and that’s a rant for another day) a $300 fine would not go down well with the Other Harf, who is slaving away over a hot desk on mega exciting “budget templates” on this gorgeous sunny Sunday afternoon when he should be home with his maudlin wife – reason #2 for the mopiness.

And then there’s reason #3. In the past three months my oldest and best friend hasn’t phoned me once, nor has she returned my phonecalls and I think she’s texted me, ooh, maybe three times. She would have no idea if I am still a jobless bum, or whether I’ve been taken on as the CFO of a multinational conglomerate.

I also know at the moment that her and her husband are going through one of the hardest, most emotional things a couple can be faced with – infertility: test after test, specialists, clinics and the distinct possibility of IVF.

Being 39 years old and not 16, I decided not to sulk about this understandable breakdown in communication on her part and sent her a text last night, wondering why she hasn’t called, or texted, and telling her that I’m here if she needs to talk.

I’m still waiting to hear from her, and I’m wondering if I should just pick up the phone and just call her. 

Photogenic Thursday is bought to you by the clearest blue skies, rolling, emerald hills, endless horizons, cute barnyard animals and an unemployed accountant with a Canon EOS 400D.

Today I’m all about eggs. In that I’m not counting my chickens till they’re hatched, because tomorrow I find out if I’ve got the job I went for a second interview for yesterday afternoon. I pimped myself good and proper, and if they don’t want me, well, at least I get to spend my time here.

You’ve got to look on the brightside, ya know. 

Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.

It’s this week’s Shutter Sisters’ challenge!

I met Michelle on my first day at my first job after moving up from Auckland to Whangarei (nearly three years ago now) and I soon learned that she was funny and happy-go-lucky and generous. She was the kind of person that would bake banana cake to boost morale and sooth Mondayitis or bring in daffodils from her garden and share them round just to cheer up the office, and was the instigator of our infamous cocktail/Singstar/pizza team-bonding nights.

Michelle was always the first to listen to your woes or to laugh with you – in short, she was one cool chic, and we quickly bridged that gap from colleague to friend.

So when she decided to move on to greener pastures and a higher salary, it was without question that her and I kept in touch, and when she asked me if I would participate in the biannual Relay for Life, raising money for the Cancer Society and joining the team of friends and workmates she had bought together (not only to support the Cancer Society, but to remember and honour her mum, who had died of lung cancer six years ago) I said yep, absolutely.

Saturday afternoon at 2 o’clock right through to 2pm on Sunday, I tag-teamed with the seven other “Walkie Talkies” (and along with 55 other teams – a total of over 1000 walkers and even a few runners) in a big sports field just south of Whangarei, and between us our team walked over 2000kms round a 400m circuit. It was hot, it was cold (especially at 2am, when a chilly mist descended over the sportsground and I didn’t have quite enough warm clothing…), it was painful (the last three hours I did in barefeet), it was sad, it was boring, it was funny, it was challenging and most of all it was 24 hours of remembering and fighting and celebration and support.

• Miss 8.6, recent winner of the Year 4 freestyle relay area champs title and effortless swimmer of the 50 metre pool at the local aquatic centre keeps asking if she can play netball instead of going swimming on Saturday mornings.
• This, despite the glory of gold-coloured certificates, lashings of encouragement and praise and offers of tempting carrots such as joining that really cool swim-club with the fancy-schmancy tracksuits and styly kitbags that sometimes train after her lessons.
• Yes, there go my daydreams of cheering her on poolside at the 2016 Olympics. There they go, wafting right out the window….
• But, there is the possibility of her becoming the next Irene van Dyk, or Casey Williams.
• She could run out onto the court in the silver and black and sing the National Anthem in front of a packed stadium.
• She might then be a pivotal player in the Silver Ferns winning the World Champs and kicking Australia’s butt ten times in a row, well and truly rubbing captain (and stroppy little mare) Sharelle McMahon’s nose in it, if she’s still around.
• Invites to appear on shows like A Game of Two Halves/Celebrity Treasure Island/Sale of the Century will flood in, and she’ll end up dating a really gorgeous, incredibly talented All-Black (probably the captain) who’ll be a dead ringer for Richie McCaw.
• They will get engaged, then married, and the wedding photos will appear in New Zealand’s top selling women’s weekly magazine, pushing the sales figures up to their best ever.
• She’ll have two gorgeous kids and go on to be the coach of the Silver Ferns, carrying their unbeaten record on for the next two decades.
• Or, she could just be a little girl who loves netball for the hell of it, just because her Mum and Dad let her play it on Saturday mornings like she wanted to.

Click on the photo for more skinkiness…