I’ve just begun a week at a home in Pyes Pa. Lovely new home with gorgeous ginger cat – three guesses to get his name. No? Can’t think? O.k. I’ll tell you ….. Ginge. But he’s one cool cat! Like his owners too. They were neighbours of mine back in the day when I was living at the Mount. Yup, they sold and shifted around the same time as I moved out and went house-sitting.
This couple are so lovely to house-sit for and this will be the third time (I think). Not only that but they gave a really great reference which has landed me another HS for 10 weeks over winter. If you haven’t guessed, HS stands for house-sit, but who am I kidding, you’re such a bright reader I know you already figured that out… my apologies for doubting you.
As you can see, I don’t have the wonderful views from here, but, like I said, brand new home, all the mod-cons, and best part – a kitty to talk to and cuddle. (when he lets me).
Oh, before I go, just thought I’d let you know that I’ve bought myself a decent hula hoop and am resurrecting the blue ribbon hoop winner child within me and getting some toning happening!
That’s right I had a right proud night last night.
My oldest son, Sam and his gypsy swing band played in Tauranga and it was awesome!
The band, Black Spider Stomp had a great day in my little city with very profitable busking at the Mount before setting up at Imbibe Bar and giving us a ripping great session of gypsy swing and jazz.
They had played in Auckland to a big crowd at Britomart then in a little jazz bar in Hamilton filled with young ones. Tauranga didn’t really have the audience, but then that’s Tauranga for you, but those who were there enjoyed it immensely – I could tell, they actually listened, some danced and most clapped at the solos and all clapped and the end of each tune.
They’ll be in New Plymouth tomorrow night then back to Wellington. Sure hope they come back – maybe Jazz Fest.
If you want to listen to their music – click here: Black Spider Stomp and you’ll get through to their website … you can actually hear all the music from their three albums.
Thursday morning, decision made …. I would walk to work.
Stop laughing! I know I’m one of those people whose exercise means a good brisk sit. But it is more about saving gas! No sweat! (although those
words would come back to haunt me). I have been threatening to do this since I moved into my digs, hell, it’s only down the hill. Well, a little further than that.
So, banking on it being about 20 minutes, I left the house at precisely 8.34 a.m. Yes, I’m one of those people who don’t start work till 9, don’t know how I’d cope if I had to start earlier. n fact it was 25 minutes and that was walking relatively briskly … not enough to get a sweat up, but certainly not a dawdle.
The ‘to work’ was actually really nice. You see the weather wasn’t too warm. In saying that, who expects it to be hot at that time of the day, this is N.Z. not Aussie. Tide was in, so the scenery was one where you bless the fact that you’re alive. Plus the fact the the first part was downhill.
The fun part came on the return trip. By now it was hotter – 5 p.m. or, more precisely 4 p.m. if you wipe daylight saving out of the equation. It was pleasant enough going across the bridge even though the tide was now out and the sun still had some power in it. Then came the hill. The up-side (note the pun), was the fact that part of it was in shade. Even so, the sweat was starting, just from the heat not the exercise.
Then all at once I got a whiff of a lovely smell that shot me right back to my childhood. Palm Sunday – Google it if you’re not Catholic and don’t know – waiting in line at the Sunday mass to be issued with a palm frond which, in fact, had been picked from this type of bush…see photo below…and given out to each one of the devoted flock.
I loved the smell of that palm and every year, when I was a kid, it meant the same thing = it was only a week away before I’d be able to eat lollies again – Easter! Not only that, but I still had Good Friday to look forward to …. the one day of the year I could eat my fill of hot cross buns, plus going to our beach house for 10 days holiday!!!! Yes, we got time off school ‘cause it was holiday time for dad. I loved Palm Sunday.
So back to the 11th February 2016 and that smell. And if anyone can tell me the name of this plant in the comments below, I’ll be really grateful. The funny thing about this is that it’s not even a palm – doesn’t resemble anything like the palm fronds in the pictures that supposedly the crowd waved at Jesus, but, hey, it didn’t matter, I just loved the smell.
Because of that whammy back to my childhood, the rest of the hill climb was pretty darn easy. Although by the time I did get home I was pretty hot and went straight into the bathroom to throw some cold water over myself. Next job was to pour a glass of wine, wander over to the neighbour’s place and lounge out on their deck where my flatmate already was.
Next morning, however, I have to admit to feeling the burn in the gluteal muscles (google it if it’s not obvious where that is), and did hesitate on doing the walk again. But, as the old saying goes, “no pain no gain” I decided once again to don the walking shoes and head off. Wow – it was a hot walk. The temperature had risen quite considerably since the morning before and I was a little slower and ever so pleased with the bits of shade I did come across.
This time, however, I tried something different and that was to put the head-phones on and listened to a motivational recording. Was pretty good except when I’d get blocked out by a loud truck or bus going passed. At lunchtime, I downloaded an app for audio books which, hopefully, will keep the walk entertaining.
It being Friday the beers came out and, because I was walking and not driving, I ordered a wine!!!! Wheee, the guys wondered what had struck and when I said that I was walking home, one of the guys said wow, that’s a long walk to Katikati – cute, he didn’t know I’d shifted. Mind you, I did question the sensibility of drinking wine prior to a walk in the heat….up a hill. But, what the hell – for those of you who know me, you’ll know that I’ll try anything once.
Oh but how the gods look kindly on me. The boss’s wife turned up to have a Friday wine with us and she, and the guys, all thought it would be a much better idea for me to get a ride home. It was “no problem” she said, she lives “close by” she said, even “know your street” she said. So, what is a girl to do? The sensible thing – have another wine and get a ride home.
I have two more days – Monday and Tuesday that I can walk again. It will depend on the weather of course…don’t do rain, so here’s hoping it’s fine (or not too hot). Wednesday I’m off to house-sit. This means I’ll go back to parking a wee distance away to get some walking in.
You may not wish to read the entire article, although it is not what one would describe as a “heavy going” read, oh no, on the contrary. This article is full of stunning photos, in fact it’s probably more of a picture book format making it a wonderful addition to the coffee table. But I digress.
Let’s say you just don’t have the time. In which case I will try and get the gist of the article into a few sentences, add some of the photos and give my thoughts. So here goes…..
In the Sahara there is a nomad tribe called the Wodaabe where the men line up in a form of beauty pageant once a year and are judged by the women. We’re talking about macho males, hunters and cattle-herders by trade who will spend a year getting their outfits ready!!!!
I have to admit that in some of the photos it was hard to figure if I was looking at a male or female.
What absolutely tickles my senses about this is the fact that it goes to show that the male of our species does have the ability to take pride in his appearance, is able to flaunt his ‘finer’ side without it impacting on his maleness or without him being homophobic in any way.
If we look back in history, starting with medieval times, men’s clothing was quite out there with doublets, tights, breeches and cloaks. Then into the 16th century, well, that’s when the real flamboyance began with a right royal rivalry going on between King Henry VIII and Francis 1 of France. Now let’s be honest here, there was no doubting that it was a male dominant and blood thirsty world at that time and yet they had no problem dressing in silks, velvet, leather, lace and embroidery made from gold and silver. Even their hats had feathers and shoes had cut-out decorations. Nothing was too over the top at all.
All this showiness started to decline in the early 1800s when men decided that it was too feminine to be seen wearing anything too outlandish. Although the 60’s tried to re-invent the colour and flash, it never quite made it back to that “peacock” style of a forgotten era.
Oh well, at least there is one tribe out there who continues to adhere to nature and flaunt their beauty, prowess and wealth to the ladies …. giving the women the power to choose.
Yeeeha! I’m back in Tauranga and do you know what that means to me?
Instead of traveling for 30 to 45 minutes battling traffic at Te Puna and Bethlehem now that school is back……I’m only 7 minutes from work. In fact, I can walk to work!!!
Ha! it also means that I’m not forking out to the oil industry for gasoline, my Trev does take a bit, but he’s such a good Rav, old, like me, but still “got it”. Plus, yes there’s a plus for Trev, there’s not the wear and tear….the service won’t be so frequent either – save more!
The only downside is that I had to leave those beautiful chickens that I’ve really got to love. They are just soooooooo cool.
As for my friends who I’ve been living, what can I say but a HUGE thank you. They took in a waif and stray right when I needed it….beautiful.
So I put my life in the back of Trev, and off I went to my new home. God it felt so good to have actually achieved the first of my goals…..be in Tauranga before school went back. O.k. o.k. I know, I left it until the very last day. They went back today and I got here yesterday – that’s cutting it fine, but, hey – I did it….bodes well for my other goals.
So, where am I? I’ve now found digs with a super lady in her home with the most outstanding view. Damn, if I manage to get any work done here then it will be a miracle. Check it out!!!
Trust me, the photos do not do these views justice at all.
So I’m all settled in, going to work this morning was delightfully refreshing not having to travel.
Just a heads up to you, dear reader, in the next little bit most of my blogs will now concentrate more on what’s happening in this situation we find ourselves in that we call “life”. So beware, you will be assailed by my ranting, humourous, I hope, but the topics will be totally random.
Thanks for dropping by. My name is Fee O’Shea. I’m a mother and grandma, an author, and a Comedy Improver.
This blog is for my thoughts, my rants, raves, reviews and things that have grabbed my attention. From politics to social media to beauty, health and the environment. Fee’s World Over Coffee is written to bring you a smile or get you thinking. Enjoy.
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