Kiwifruit

Huzzah! We’re off to my cousin Stu’s wedding tomorrow at Cooks Beach! It’s being held in the backyard of his fiance’s parents’ bach* on Saturday afternoon, and jandals** will be required attire. Chilled out, relaxed, sunshine filled.

The eleven of us (that is us three, Mum and Dad, Lil’Sis, Brunvinlaw and their four) are sharing a bach we rented online via the very cool Bookabach – it’s just up the road from the wedding so handy stumbling walking distance.

Of course I am highly excited about seeing Stu get married (again; we attended his first wedding in England to an English girl – the marriage didn’t work out – neither could compromise on where to live) – this time it’s to Kiwi Tina, who I haven’t met yet, but I am sure we’ll bond over a glass of chilled Lindauer or too, because any girl that Stu would pick I am bound to like.

And instead of a skirt suit, tights, heels and a warm winter coat I will be wearing a light, cool, floral summer dress and sandals.

My kinda wedding!

Catch you next week with photos of glorious golden sand beaches and beautiful scenery galore.

*Bach – holiday home
** Jandals – flip-flops, thongs, take your pick.

Greetings to you on another gorgeous sunny Sunday! 

Today, after a quick trip into town to kit Miss 9.6 out with some new sandals for my cousin’s wedding next weekend (miracle of miracles, praise be and hallelujah she actually liked the first pair she tried on AND the store had them in her size, two things that never happen at the same time) I slotted in a brisk and extremely sweaty 4km dogwalk and a glorious swim to cool off from the dogwalk (me only; Pippa and Max are banned from the pool as they insist on doing bombs off the ladder) and now I am in the middle of my first assignment for my photography course.

This assignment is all about the theory and I’ve got ten scenarios in which to choose “lenses, attachments and filters” for. So far so good, but I’m a little bit stumped on what to use for “high power shots of business-suited women in a slick city environment with a lot of action round them” and went and shot this photo of unslick country with no high powered women in business suits in it at all and used Elements’ nifty Photomerge Panoroma tool to stitch it all together instead, because the practical is *so* much more fun than the theory.

However, this diversion is going to get me diddly squat on my assignment, so back to swotting up on the zoom, the telephoto, the macro, the tilt, the prime and the wide angle I go…

I’ve been thinking today how funny (as in odd-funny) it is how sometimes parents can produce children so utterly different. The reason for this, and case in point: my cousins Sherry and Karl (who are visiting us tonight with their partners) – Sherry left school at 15, worked in Pizza Hut ever since and has never lived anywhere else except Whangarei. She’s quiet, meek and shy to the point of being mousy.

Where as Karl went travelling four years ago fresh out of university (fully qualified as an accountant) and has lived in Canada, the US, Japan and the UK. He and his partner Fran have just returned from an epic backpacking trip round Africa (not to mention their travels through Asia, the US and Europe) and they’re only home for a month or so before heading back to London to save up for their next round of adventures. Karl? He’s outgoing, confident and can talk a leg off a chair.

It’s like Sherry and Karl were bought up in two totally different households.

Lil’Sis and I are quite different too, but those differences are fading slowly but surely away now. We have more in common than ever as mothers, homeowners, gardeners, neighbours and a mutual fondness of 70′s soft rock music. Our tolerance of each other’s personality quirks has increased tenfold – her and I spent the first twenty years of our lives disliking to the point of despising each other (particularly in our teens: many a time I could have easily ripped her carefully coiffured Alison Moyet quiff out follicle by follicle and I’m sure she would have loved to have taken a sharp knife to my Siouxsie and the Banshees cassettes on several occasions) and the next ten tolerating each other, only just at first, but more and more as our twenties wore on.

And now, finally, we actually like each other and most importantly respect each other for who we are, not what we think each other should be.

Are you and your siblings alike? Have you grown more alike as you’ve gotten older?

Or will that just never happen?

Finally, finally, after years of bleating on my part and abominable service on the part of Vodafone, I now have broadband speed internet, all the time, and not just when the wind is blowing in a nor-noreasterly direction.

And it’s only 2010!

This means that as well as being able to enjoy the delights of YouTube and the ability to scroll through photos on Flickr with a mere click of a finger (forget about this on dialup or 2G) I now have access to iTunes – and downloading (almost) any song in the whole wide world! Which is fabulous yet oh so very tempting!

So now it’s all about new music (as I’ve pretty much got all the old stuff as thanks to Bruvinlaw and his extensive CD borrowing and burning we’ve both got a PC music collection of over 10,000 songs).

Tonight, I’m downloading Florence + the Machine’s Lungs. Sunday it was Them Crooked Vulture’s album. Next? I’m hoping for some recommendations here and from my lovely Facebook friends.

And at the end of month? Explaining all those payments to iTunes on the credit card bill to the Other Harf….gulp!

A hot and humid Sunday afternoon with cicadas on (loud) loop but
apart from that it’s pretty damn quiet round here. The Other Harf has
taken off into town to deliver 100 flyers advertising his new
beancounting business venture and Miss 9.5 has been cleaning her room
for the past hour and a half, which judging by the piles of wet towels,
discarded clothes, cut-up bits of Girlfriend and Creme
magazines, felt-tip pens (some with lids) and assorted coloured
iceblock sticks, pipe-cleaners, stick-on googly-eyes and feathers
(she’s been making some pretty freaky-looking pet-rocks all morning)
might take another hour and a half at least.

Apparently I’m not allowed to peek at how she’s getting on because it’s going to be “soooooo extra-specially
clean!” I won’t believe my eyes and entrance to the room will only be
by special invitation and only when it’s “properly finished.”

As
well Googling recipes for Beef Wellington (the main for our
traditional homemade-yet-posh Valentine’s Day Dinner – the Other Harf
and I take turn about making courses every year – he’s making
Boysenberry and Apple Crumble for dessert which is not as posh as Beef Wellington but it’s my most favourite dessert in the world, ever) I’ve been reading through
the first module for the online photography course I signed up for with The Photography Institute of New Zealand.

I’ve had my eye on the course for a while now, and we haven’t really
been able to afford it but when they emailed me a deal for $500 off the
course fees I put the hard word on my case to the
Other Harf and he agreed. I’m very excited about it and can’t wait to
broaden both my knowledge and my skills and one day possibly even make some money out of this beloved hobby of mine! Wheeee!

Now if you’ll excuse me I’m off to watch Chef Ramsay smother a fillet of beef in Mushroom Duxelles and Hot Mustard and wrap it all up in Puff Pastry, again. Ooooh eeer…

I work in a two-storey office, and at the moment there’s a large retail unit being
constructed a block or so over from us.
This week it was time to install the roof, and several workmen have been busy pop-riveting or rivet-popping sheets of aluminium to the framework or whatever it is roof installers do.
And naturally as it was at least 30°C, smack-bang in the middle of summer and as most of the workers were young,tanned and fit 95% of them have their shirts off – a habit which brought many of the female members of staff to the window for a better look, Diet
Coke-ad style. Comments are made along the lines of “Woo-hoo, check the one in
the black cap out! He’s HOT!” and “Oooh, lovely, look at the pecs on that one!”
(The one with the black cap knows he’s being perved on and grins cheekily at his
voyeurs, lapping every moment up. The others aren’t as bothered).
As for me, I chose to stay away as I felt a little bit embarrassed by all this. Why? Because if the boot were on the other foot and the five men in our team (three of them were ignoring it all, the other two were just bemused) were leering at the window, cat-calling, whistling and making comments about the women working across the street (granted, the topless bit just wouldn’t happen) they’d all get a firm tongue-lashing from their female
colleagues.

It’s this weird double-standard that seems to exist in the world today.

Ladies, what would you do? Hang back and make no comment? Have a wee peek? Or
cat-call and leer to your heart’s content – it’s our turn?