Note To Future Self

The Kiwis have a phrase: No. 8 wire. Perhaps cultural totem is a better description. It evokes the idea that a kiwi bloke should be able to make or fix anything with a length of fencing wire and perhaps a bit of ingenuity. Today it’s typically trotted out to describe Kiwi innovation — thinking outside the box to find a cheaper (contrasted with American “gold plated” engineering) way of doing something.

So may we present our No. 8 wire Christmas wreath

Made up of, um, No. 8 wire (some 22 gauge as well), and a few cuttings from that laurel-y thing ’round back. We’re still figuring out the finer points of wreath making, so it’s, er, a bit droopy.

Here’s an in-progress shot.

Also, there was Christmas bread.

aka A Grand Day Out
aka We now return you to our regular service.

A recent walk in the Port Hills with family friends (and their dogs) seems to have kindled a wanderlust in the sprouticus. We’ve gone on three long tramps since the weekend.

To celebrate a fine day, we took a chance on a more ambitious journey, with a drive into the hills for a walk up the Otira Valley.

It was a cracker of a day and good reminder of how nice things are once you’re out of the city.

Even if you’re scrambling over boulders that are bigger than you are.

Hey little lady.

You seem … different somehow.

No, not the cornball grin.

Ah-ha!

No comment.

ask nicely. ask nicely. asknicelyasknicelyasknicely.  [Da capo, forte]

[pointing at my breakfast]

I me Mine.

momma. momma. mommy. mom.

[smiling, with vigorous head nod]

Please!

I hear it’s supposed to be nearly 26 in some parts of the northern hemisphere…

She's a little young for the hat, but what can I say? It must be genetic

Us too! Of course, 9 > 2.9 magnitude earthquakes since 2 am this morning does kind of put the damper on the taunting. Can we be done with this now?

I know you’re worried about the insidious, creeping pinkness. For your benefit, here’s the GB with her new winter gloves:

Yes, I know, a very manly shape of purple.

But, what’s on them?

“Spiders,” of course.

There may be hope yet.

I must admit, I don’t know my goth lolita from my visual kei, but I suspect this one has been spending too much time with the Japanese backpackers downtown.

Indeed.

Here, let me show you.

And you pour a little bit on each plant.

Now you try it.

Good job!

Um…

Maybe we should start from the beginning….

How’s the weather up there at the North Pole?

This little elf’s workshop is quite pleasant, thankee.

7 PM. Much wood in the garage. 70 degrees and sunny. Blackalicious on the (homemade) stereo.

9 PM. Wood reduced to matchsticks. A beautiful sunset on the horizon, YLT on the stereo and Olde 95 in my glass.

What’s he building in Santa’s workshop? It’s a secret!

You didn’t notice I’d changed this blog to watchaaronquaff.com? Oh, alright.

Peas fresh from the pod, baby. And, uh, no pants.