Unplanned days ~ surprise!
It is pitch black in there
And almost innaccessible
Months will pass
Then the first winter glow
A health check
inspired by a minah cacooing on the top
the sound wafts down
becomes synthesised by metal tubing
the weirdness prompted me to look
with a torch, a mirror and my smartphone
Our woodburner
The base of the flu
Is in good health
Then it was a gravel road,
The car a cocoon of dust
From Waitakaruru, to Thames,
Where today, retired, I live.
Pollen Street, three old guys,
One of them is me.
Chortling, sharing aches and pains,
Growing old, it ain’t for sissies.
Grahamstown, an almost gypsy vibe.
Op-shops, cafes, a music shop, I stop,
Two strangers, two guitars and now,
Both tuned, becoming friends.
Longer daylight hours
Warmer
No thanks. He’s sleeping outside now
The bed burglar has vamoosed
Half vamoosed, still available for tummy rubs
And chin tickles.
Treats time unchanged
Or
The Look.
Grandma, the Aunts, the joyous cries of summer on the way. Pohutukawa blooms up the Coromandel coast are here. Will be here forever.
No time to stand and stare. Things to do. Christmas cake, those morning teas, lunches, the longed for long drawn out afternoon tea.
And time for tea.
And while the Scotsmen slept, the invadors, Norsmen, crept up. An ambush. A cry of pain. Indignation. A would be conqueror had met his match. On one leg the Norsman hopped, cursed and removed a thistle. Ambush averted.
Today the ‘Scotch Thistle is the national emblem of Scotland.
Hopping across their sheep runs South Island farmers today are dealing with an invador, the Californian Thistle. Stock dont eat ’em so they spread. Can’t use ’em in soups. Goats. Goats gobble the flowery bits when in season. I can’t find out why or how they were introduced.
So how did this jotting come to be?
My morning walk.
Enjoy your day.
The kitchen bench shines
That last irritating trickle,
clatter of breakfast dishes, done.
Morning walk, escape
Two at a time stride up the steps
And pause
First, up the steps, I must count them all
Past the poplars, gaunt and tall
Morning walk, one must keep fit
Must stack that wood before I quit
It’s cool, by 5 the fire lit
A beer, and then the dinner call
A & G Price is a local heavy engineering business providing employment going back to our gold mining days.
These days it is held in some affection, many of our Thames families have connections with the gold mining industry.
It was founded in 1868 in Onehunga, New Zealand by Alfred and George Price from Stroud, Gloucestershire. It manufactured locomotives, rolling stock, repaired ships and flax-milling machines.
In 1974 the staff of A & G Price alone was in excess of 520 people.
Today, global trading and we live in precarious times. Ingenuity in locating contracts worldwide provides for few skilled workers.
Morning walk
Keep fit, thoughts bobbing, cats to greet, an eager dog strong at the leash.
“Morning, another good day on the way.”
An old identity.
“Oh no, I’m still seen as a newcomer. I’ve only lived here for forty years and the old timers, lovely people, taking their time to see me as one of them.”
One of them. Working on it. I moved here in 2004.
Longer days
Colour dances in the wind
Two pedestrians, hum of traffic
Morning
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