Bloody weather!

I can say now that I am homebound. That is, stuck at home. Plans for an early library visit were curtailed by impending gales and rain. It has cleared somewhat but the winds are still there and I am still here. However I have done a few emails and am going to HU at six thirty and afterwards to catch a Maggie Smith movie with Kevin Kline set in Paris. Should be easy on the eyes anyway. 

Letter today to Peruvian B in Port Stephens, just to fill him in a little about me and my background. Frighten him away or make him interested perhaps. Who know?  Also have arranged to meet Norma in Auckland on my Board meeting visit there on Decenber 13. Now to organise flights with Ron. It will be a worthwhile trip as it includes a farewell to Bruce on the Friday night, with nibbles, a little frugal in my humble opinion. But the meeting with N after forty years will be interesting, could even be a disaster!

So after most of the day in front of the computer I need to get out, so after lunch I am off to the  local   supermarche at Kilbirnie for some provisions for weekend's get-togethers, after all they expect the miracle of the loaves and fishes with eight to cater for one hundred with 'bring a plate'! The sun comes out and the day miraculously turns into summer time, weird weather ay? I shop, I visit Tom who's not yet home after work, and then to wait till six-thirty I frequent my old friend Maccas where I actually have the best hot chocolate I have had in New Zealand. Thanks to the young Islander barista who knows his stuff. There is hope yet!

Numero uno cioccolatta calda, with two marshmallows!

This is a barista who know his apples, and his espresso machine!

Below, death by jogging

After HU and before movie, a quick snack at my early favourite bar Midnight Espresso, remember that one? Well it is still exactly the same and the the young people have even more tattoes. The headlines of the Dom Post talk of a tragedy in downtown Wellington where a woman jogging ran straight in front of a bus and died as a result. What have I been saying? Wellingtonians are born to jog, just as they are born to die. There was no blame attached to the distraught Maori bus driver and I feel so sad for him as he says everyday he thinks of the accident and blames himself for the death. I don't think they will ever stop jogging these Kiwis, so there has to be a fatality occasionally, it's just in the statistics.

At HU tonight I met two retired Kiwis of my age who have decided to build their own Yurt and live in it on their friend's community garden precinct.  Again a couple getting off the grid. I think it is vaguely somewhere I am heading too. My return to Oz must have a game plan with a set of goals. All my Kiwi goals will have been realised by July next year when it is time for me to leave. But still, eight months or so to go, make the most of them, there is still much to learn!