A blessing on your year 2010

Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked or stand in the way of sinners, or sit in the seat of mockers.
But his delight is in the law of the Lord and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers.

Psalm 1

Learning to just "bee"

Very happy girl today, I had my first bee keeping "lesson". Did rather well, even when surrounded by rather a lot of bees. I even saw a few bees hatch out. Amazing!

Bacchus?

A vineyard of note

Neudorf Vineyard is just over 30 years old, but its wines grace the tables of some of the finest restaurants in the world.

Neudorf Vineyard

Vineyard byegones

Tree pots

A place to dream

Early morning walk down the road

Thistling in the breeze

Worshipping Tree

Copper Beech Contrast

Our funky hostess - don't ask!

Liz was dressing up (along with all the other local business people) for late night shopping in Motueka.

Seifried Vineyard

A Cabernet Merlot and a Riesling purchased at the Vineyard door

Welcome to Nelson

Busking on Trafalgar St, Classical Style

South Island Airspace

The magnificent Marlborough Sounds

Enjoying another angle of Wellington

The stadium where we have rugby matches and concerts. Locally it is known as the "biscuit tin"

Join us on our holiday

Leaving Wellington

Flying away tomorrow

.............will be posting my adventures when I return.

All was tranquil

The courtyard at Cafe Vella, Plimmerton

But then the walk by the sea got interesting

and the first present of the season

......came from my hairdresser Maureen. Everyone was given a gift wrapped succulent plant as they came through the door! What a great day:-)

A cat called Tallulah

.......visited us at the office

One in a million.......

......well almost. We have thousands of these trees around our beautiful city.

Random events to make me smile

First, the realisation that the Pohutukawa trees would be in full bloom by my birthday. They are known as the Kiwi Christmas tree, as they are usually totally red by the 25th December.

Where the wild things are

My mum sent a Christmas toy for our big boy cat. The knitted Santa was dipped in a bowl of cat nip and all sorts of frolicking ensued. For a 6.7kg cat, he is very playful and agile. I was grateful as it distracted him from pulling baubles off the Christmas tree like last year!

Waving at Trains

This evening I had cause to smile at the end of the day. The smile “prompt” came in the form of two small girls with their father at the railway station before mine. They were sitting on a fence, held secure by their father, and they were waving and smiling as if their lives depended on it. For the 30 seconds or so it took for the doors to open and a few passengers to alight, the children were reaching into the draughty, slightly smelly carriage with the fragrance and warmth of their guileless grins.
After we had passed by, I started to wonder why it is we wave at trains when we are children. Is it a competition to see how many strangers will wave back? Is it the joy in the expression of an adult caught off guard for a brief moment?
I suspect that we all just need to connect. In our deepest being, we don’t want to be alone and watch a train go by without connecting with one of the neutral expressions in the carriage. For a split second, there is a life change, a thought is paused, a worry halted, a frustration shelved, and the smile shatters the gloom. There is anonymity in the abandon. We will never meet, you will never know my name, but I can go wild and be pleased to see you, and if you are quick enough, you might be wild back.

Bonding

I am fascinated by “the ties that bind”. For me, they are those instances in life where you feel at one with another person, as if you are sitting on a comfy sofa, opposite their brain, realising you are functioning at the same level, thinking similar thoughts, being amused by similar circumstances. These ties are often very happy across cultural boundaries. I had a glimpse of this yesterday. I was waiting for a habitually late train. There was another redhead sat at the windy station, knitting. I also knit on trains. When I lived in S. Africa, I used to travel in third class on the train and sit with the African ladies and their needles. So, here I am, the immigrant, talking to a local about knitting – sock patterns we have known and loved, stitches we have not been able to master etc. As the only white person in third class, much of the bonding over the needles was done by friendly nudges, winning smiles and giggles. Folk arts are very folky. Just as the fingers were designed to touch and relate and love, so they communicate silently the artistic wedge inside a culture. They wave magically, producing legion colourful clothing, decorative arts, furnishings and domestic functional items – an extension of the heart.

(written in July 2008 for my now defunct blog chaisociety.wordpress.com)

Apologies

Sorry for not posting much recently. For the last few weeks I've had a headache the size of Yorkshire, and it ain't going away. I went to the opticians as it is located mostly behind the right eye, but there is nothing wrong with my eyes. I even saw a photo of my retina.

Could be blood pressure, could be hormonal. Maybe I'm growing another brain. Will have to see.

views from the veranda