Balls

So yes, long time blah blah blah...
I've become part of a betting syndicate at work recently. And everyone has a turn at betting. Which is something I didn't really want to do. My turn came up in the second week, so today I had to go to the TAB and bet on something. Which is not so bad. But then I had to let every other member of the syndicate know what I'd put money on, which is... annoying? Not exactly... Of the twelve people in the group, 9

More on squirrels

It's funny that on the day the preceding photos of squirrels were taken, we were in London, "seeing the sights," as it were, and of all the things we visited, the historic buildings and landmarks and all, the squirrels in Hyde Park near Buckingham Palace were the thing I liked the most.
I was told that I must see Buckingham Palace, that it is a very impressive display of opulence. I didn't find it all that interesting, to be honest. But wandering back toward the houses of parliament and Big Ben, coming across squirrels hopping about in the park was neat. They are the busiest little critters I have ever seen. The photos i posted were taken by my mother, who displayed great patience in catching the squirrels in moments where they weren't scurrying about. And it was well cool that they were completely unphased by people - they would practically run across your feet if you were in the path they had chosen.
Although the person at work who told me I had to see the palace told me when I came back that it was the inside that was so impressive. I was under the impression you couldn't go in - things seemed very shut and secure when we were there. I guess that there must be some sort of tours you can go on.
Other things were more than I expected. Well, the Tower of London at least was far bigger than I would have thought. I sort of imagined it to be an actual tower... Which may make me stupid, but never mind. As it is, it's almost like a small town. There's the central building that I guess is the actual Tower, and surrounding it there are houses that I imagine would be servants quarters and things, parts that were used as the jail, an army barracks... As a whole it's what I always imagined a full castle to be. And the stuff on display is well impressive. Although again, there were things that appealed to me more than the major items. Like the Crown Jewels and whatnot were certainly impressive, but I found the weapon displays, and armour and things more interesting.
And in general, I'd probably recommend going in winter, in the off-season for tourists. The cold sorta made it really feel like England, if that makes sense... And not having to queue for things was great. Probably the only drawback was that some displays were closed for upgrades and things, which wouldn't have been the case had we been there in peak times.
I guess that whatever time of year you travel, there will always be positives and negatives. But the trip was pretty awesome.

The raven and the squirrel

Once upon a time there was a little squirrel. he lived in Hyde Park, near Buckingham Palace, although that isn't important right now. Let's call the squirrel Harold. So Harold was out in the park, looking for edibles. Eventually, after some industrious foraging, Harold found... something... I didn't actually see what the little furry dude was carrying, but he seemed pretty happy with it. Anyhoo, after scrabbling it out of the dirt at the base of a tree, Harold took his whatever out into a grassy patch, and made with the burying. What a clever little squirrel.
And once upon a time there was a raven. Let's call him... Iggy. So Iggy was just grooving in the park, not up to much, when he spots a squirrel digging near a tree. And when the squirrel comes up with paydirt, Iggy thinks, "That looks like something I want. I don't know what it is, but damn if it ain't something I'm gonna take."
And so Iggy non-chalantly (if that's a word) hopped up behind Harold, looking off in whatever direction seems most likely to make Harold feel there's nout going on. And when Harold is finished burying his treasure, as in the photo, Iggy hops up and steals it. Such is life in the parks of a big city...

SQUIRREL!

More on Ol' Blighty... and life...

Well, I've been back here for a while now, and things have settled back to their normal boring routines... Work, sleep, blah, repeat...
Work is a little better than it was at the end of last year in that I've been transferred back to my original work area, which I greatly prefer to the job I was doing for the last couple of months before Xmas. On the other hand, the company is currently running at a deficit, so there are redundancies being announced soon. They are looking to lose 28 waged staff, having asked for volunteers first and now I think sorting out who else is going. I feel relatively safe - I've been there for 3 years now, so I'm not one of the newbies they might drop, and I'm trained to run a fair few different machines, making me relatively valuable. But who knows? If I'm for the chop, I feel that I could probably find something else relatively quickly. And the redundancy payout would be a nice little chunk of cash. But I think that for the moment, as boring as the job is, it suits me, and the money is still pretty good. In fact if I wasn't so lazy on the overtime front, I could be earning a fair bit more.
My thoughts of England recently were more on the nature of the people than the place itself, really. There was something I noticed while walking around, especially in London, about the crowds. Pretty much everyone there looks down at their feet all the time. Well, at the ground in front of them, but you know... And iPods or mp3 players are in very extensive use. I'm not the most socially confident person in the world, but when I wander the streets I tend to look up, ahead, at the scenery, and at the people around me. And that seems to be fairly standard for NZers. But over there, everyone seemed very careful not to look at anything other than just ahead of them. It just felt somehow strange that there were huge numbers of people moving around in their own worlds. The mp3 players seemed like an extra layer of insulation, to keep from interacting with any of their fellow travellers. It wasn't like that all the time, but there was a sense of huge seas of individual people as opposed to crowds. No, that's not right... it was more that the crowds, however large, were seperate people in the same place. Not sort of mobs. Blurgh, I'm not sure that makes sense. But never mind...
But anyhoo, an electrician at work gave something of an explanation which I found interesting. He told me that back in the bad old days when the IRA were terrorising England, people would keep their heads down and focussed on not seeing anything because they didn't want to get caught up in anything. Because in seeing more of the world than their immediate path, they could potentially become either witnesses to something, or targets if an IRA nutter saw them looking at them. I've no idea how accurate that is, but it seems kind of plausible, I suppose. And I guess that beahviour could have become so ingrained that even younger folk continue to do the same. Or with 9/11 and all the modern wave of terrorism, it may be that everyone is still in the same "don't make yourself a target, don't stand out," mode. Or it could simply be that living in a population the size of somewhere like London, it's easier to tune out the crowds and just focus on where you are going. Who knows? Probably if you could scan the minds of that sea of humanity, the massive sidewalk snakes of human beans, you'd find a mix of all of the above.

Time flies when...

Well, it's been quite a while... I haven't actually looked at my blog, so can't recall exatly when my last post was. But plenty has happened since whenever it might have been, I'm sure...

The biggest thing I've done recently was go to the UK. It was my second ever overseas trip, and probably one of the coolest things I've done. Spending just over two weeks in England and Ireland was fascinating - a completely different feel to NZ. It's hard to explain exactly what it is about the UK that made such an impression - I think it's primarily the sense of history, knowing that the foundations of everything around you were laid hundreds of years ago. I know that in NZ the Maori had villages and Pa sites and all the rest going a fair way back, but it really isn't the same. When you walk into somewhere like Yorkminster, or the Norwich Cathedral, or even the small church in Eye, You can feel the age of the places like a weight, a sort of comforting blanket of belonging. Knowing that people built these places so long ago, and that they are not just tourist attractions, but part of the living community... I don't know if this makes sense... I suppose that what I mean is... Hmmm... Well, it's like going to Yorkminster, which is the massive and impressive Cathedral dealy in York.

This photo doesn't really do it justice, but it's not bad... Anyhoo, the minster has three touristy elements - you pay to go in and just look around, and then pay additional monies to go through the crypt area under the church, and to do the tower climb to the top of the central part. So there are tourist types from all over taking photos and things whenever you visit. But at the same time, when we first popped in on Sunday afternoon, the evensong service was just about to start, and people who were there to worship were allowed through to the chapel area to... well, worship. Or join the service, as it were... It was one of the things that I really loved about all of it, that for outsiders and visitors like me it was all so impressive to see, but for the local community it's still part of their regular world. Everything over there seems built to last. Like a little pub in York where we stopped for a drink, called The Golden Fleece. It was established in the 1600s, I think it was, and has a reputation as one of the most haunted inns in Britain. But the thing is it wasn't just established way back when, it was still the same building. Although the downstairs bar where we had a drink was only a couple hundred years old. it was the upstairs part that was the original building. Hang on...
So this is it. Sorry it's a bit blurry - it was late in the day and low light, and I wasn't using a flash. But anyways, We had a drink in the downstairs bar that has the lights on in the pic. The stone arch seperating the lower section from the brickwork upper floors shows the original design of the place - horses used to pass through the arch into the back yard and stables, and the inn was just the top couple of floors. But at some stage an enterprising landlord filled in the arch with a bar. It's also funny that this photo shows building predominantly constructed around 400 years ago, but where I was taking the picture from was the steps of a relatively new glass and steel department store. Which is the thing, I guess... it's like things aren't torn down and replaced, they're built around, and incorporated into the ongoing life of the country. To be able to wander down a street and say "that was there when my great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandparents were about" is astounding. And that's what I meant about the Pa sites here in NZ - they're like - "this patch of ground is where a community was over a hundred years ago." which is fine, but you have to imagine what it was like, or go by reconstructions or artists impressions. To be able to just look at something and not think, "this must be what it was like," to just think "this is what it was, or is," is amazing. At least to me, coming from this little place on the bottom of the earth, where human history is really nothing.

Anyway, I'm getting a sore arse as my chair isn't very comfortable, and I can hear the rest of the household stirring, so I think I'll leave it at that. I'm hoping to actually do more of a travel log dealy at some stage, but may well just end up with more of this sort of retarded rambling and more photos.

I suppose that all of this is kind of why I want to buy my grandmothers old house. It's been a Cowens landmark for around 50 years, and I think it would be pretty cool to keep it in the family for another 50. To establish here in NZ even a century of a fixed point for the family name.

Blah, I'm done for now. More later, hopefully...

Interesting times

Well, the last couple of weeks have been pretty darned cool...

I've had the last week and a half off work, which in itself is an awesome thing... I spent a week of this time in Mt Maunganui and Tauranga, hanging with the fambly. it was a good time. Urgh, this is coming out kind of stilted and horrible. I'm not very awake - I went to the late session of Ironman at Riccarton last night, and although I've had about 7 hours sleep, I still feel knackered. The film was great - big action, quite funny, generally cool - and my sister came along, which was also neat. It kind of completes a set - I went to the late session of Pirates of the Carribean 2 with my bro and his wifey when that came out, and I saw Pirates 3 with my mother at a late session too. I guess the only person left to do this with is my dad. There's just something kind of fun in the whole experience, knowing that it's a bit silly because it's so late but enjoying a good movie...
Anyhoo, back to my holiday... yeah, it was great. Seeing the folks is always nice, and as a huge bonus my brother and his gang were there for half the time as well. It was awesome to meet Dom again - he's changed so much since Xmas time. Little people are wonderful...
I had a strange experience on my return to Christchurch though. When I went up north, I had a fairly substantial ginger beard, and my normal hair. As I seem to do quite often while on holiday, I ended up with blonde hair and trimmed back to a tidy goatee. When I was waiting for my sister outside the airport, I had this indian guy talk to me. It was an interesting conversation...
He said hello, in the way you'd greet an old friend you haven't seen for ages. I was somewhat confused, and immediately started trying to work out if this was someone I knew. He welcomed me to Christchurch, and asked me where I was from. I told him that I was from Chch, and had just been up north visiting family. I began to suspect that perhaps he was some sort of religious type, about to tell me about the glory of some particular Deity. Then he told me he was on his way to Auckland, but he hoped to see me when he came back to town. Being the type of person I am, I was just smiling politely and making generally affirmative noises. And feeling progressively more confused by this nice, friendly person... Then he said "I am a gay, are you?" Oh. Whoops...
I just said no, and that was pretty much it. He said goodbye and went off to catch his plane. I found the whole thing highly amusing. It's the first time I've been hit on by a gay guy. I don't know if it's the hair that made him think I was a gay too, or if it was the Golden Breed jacket I was wearing, which has a combined male and female sign as it's logo. I think it's just that they make unisex clothing, but I guess it could be misinterpreted... But no, I think it's probably just that he thought I looked like a gay in general. I don't find this at all worrying, oddly enough - I'm comfortable enough with myself these days that it doesn't fase me if people make inaccurate assumptions based on my appearance. I like the way I look, and that's all that really matters.
The other thing that did occur to me was that if I was a gay, I could probably do better than the guy who talked to me... Hee hee... : )