These Shoes Were Made For Walking

Time to shed some light on the dimness of my wit. I have new walking shoes, and for some reason thought it would be good to christen them with a three hour walk. Oh why?

Took the day off yesterday -just because I could, annual leave building up and all that. I felt I needed time to recharge and do some beholding. So off I went up to Victoria park, did the H.G.Ell walkway (goes from the Sign of the Takehe to the Sign of the Kiwi).

The wind was whipping a mighty gale through the pines or so it sounded. From there I took the loop tracks round Sugar Loaf Transmitter. Once I rounded the leeward side the wind dropped completely off and all seemed relatively silent despite the roadworks going on in Dyer's Pass.

Now I could fully appreciate the birdsong: the grey warblers were warbling, the skylarks were larking, the yellowhammers were hammering, the bellbirds were tolling, the slivereyes were silvereying nah? Well maybe that's a bit much. But it was lovely. All was harmonious. And yes, I did see all those birds plus: chaffinch, dunnocks and blackbirds. The grey warblers are a favourite of mine, like little mice with wings.

“What if someone's sitting on 'my' seat?” I thought, as I drew nearer to the stone seat with my picnic. But no one was, so I could enjoy the view over the harbour by myself. Just me and my lunch and my book.

As I was coming back down I heard an invasively loud droning like an aeroplane flying just overhead but it didn't recede. Then I looked up and saw the transmitter festooned with all it's dishes and realised it was just the wind. Walked a little further under the cliff and the sound went off, walked back a few meters and it was 'on' again. Sound goes on, sound goes off, sound goes on, sound goes off.

Which reminds me, does anyone know what the thing on top of the hill is? Not the actual transmitter but the huge round concrete thing? I saw it when I went off the path, I didn't go right up close to look and to be honest I probably shouldn't have been there at all. But just curious.

Coming back down, the wind was amazing, I'm sure my hair was actually standing on end (see photos). I had to lean in to it to get anywhere and I would've toppled over had it suddenly stopped. Yeah, it gave me a wind headache but it sure was worth it.

Then I came home and made pizza for tea. A topping finish to a brilliant day. And yes, my feet survived the breaking in of the new shoes without so much as a blister afterall. How nice.

All I Owe (by Matthew Smith)

(click on the title)

"These hymns are woven into my very being. They shape my thoughts and actions as I seek to love God and live life. They rise up and fight the lies that seek to crush me. They allow me to reach out into mystery and embrace my longings. They give me courage. They remind me that all I owe has already been paid. They make me see Jesus"

That's pretty much how I feel, too, when I listen to my new compact disc.

I bought it as a present for myself without even listening to it but I can already tell it holds many hours of listening pleasure. I knew I would like it based on the hymns (which have been set to new music and some tastefully altered)

1, Come thou fount of every blessing
2, His love can never fail
3, Thy blood was shed for me
4, How helpless
5, Jesus, I am resting
6, All I owe
7, The Lord will provide
8, None among
9, My Lord I did not choose you
10, Nothing but the blood

Batfly

Whenever I think about Mystacinobia zelandica (more commonly known as the New Zealand batfly, and don't tell me you've never heard of it, it was the fly find of the 20th century—not just a new species for New Zealand but an entirely new genus! C'mon, get excited people) I am so thankful that I'm not a blind, wingless, guano-munching batfly (wait a minute, I am wingless but, that's the way it's suposed to be!). What a life eh?!

Fruit & Vegie Prep.

A thought occurdled to me today. We shuck corn, hull strawberries, pit olives and dates, core apples and peel bananas. What else do we do to our food to facilitate comsumption?

Shattered

I smashed a favourite breakfast bowl last night.

Now, here's a reason why I shouldn't put the dishes away late at night. I turned the bowl over in my hands and as soon as I had, I realised I hadn't gripped it propperly and it went plummeting down to the floor. I knew it was a gonner. It would've landed safely on the plants but instead it knicked the edge of a cast iron frypan (that was on the ground so it would be out the way).

Thanks to my lightning fast reflexes it was all I could manage just to shut my eyes in time. I didn't see the moment of impact (but that was SOME comotion, a mighty clattering) but that was just as well as I felt a veritable spray of ceramic (one shard even deflecting off my eyelid). After the fragments of a once complete vessel parted company there was a split second silence before the pieces rained back down (some even landing on the bench) to cover everything like pointy little snowflakes.

All I have left is most of a rim, the base and a half dozen or so spikes, plus the white chaff. Needless to say it's beyond repair. I miss my bowl. I had been planning our future together. It was going to be great.

Later that evening, whilst brushing my teeth, I noticed in the mirror that there was still a piece of bowl stuck on my eyelid. Praise God for eyelids!

Destructive Durian

I thought you might like to know that I just found out they named a wicked Typhoon after that delicious succulency, that exotic delicacy, the veritable crowning glory of all the tropical fruits the pungently overpowering and most revered, the humble Durian. How dare they?

I think part of it's appeal for me is it's inate unloveliness.

When we all know it is harmless really. Go visit durian palace for the many ways to indulge your durian tooth (and order a durian office party!? Ok, so, even that may be a bit much, even for me).

www.durianpalace.com/gourmet