Penny Farthing

One of the regular events at the Art Deco Weekend's Gatsby Picnic is the Penny Farthing Cyclists. They are so accomplished. I read that getting on and off is very difficult and wI can well believe it. However when you see someone who knows what they are doing and does it well it's hard to believe that it's difficult. I wish that I had nabaged to get a picture of the mount and dismount. Actually I've never seen the mount but the dismount sort of involves , well, just getting off without falling over. Quite amazing.

The Soap Box Derby

The Derby is very enthusiastically supported event each year. The Family Geddes entered a few years ago.

What Can't be Replaced?

I went to the Doctor this morning to get the results of my X-Ray. Apparently my right knee is wearing out on one side. The Doc - a splendidly direct and straightforward chap from Bavaria via the UK - said that I should see a Specialist for confirmation and "just get the knee replaced - a straightforward operation which would disrupt my life for about four weeks and give me 20 trouble free years." Apparently the waiting time is about the same in New Zealand as it is in the UK. I don't know anyone in the UK who has had a knee replacement but I know quite a few here. I'm not convinced that the Doc's optimism is justified. However the idea of having 20 years by having a knee replaced seems like a good deal although I'm not quite sure how a knee replacement cures cancer or prevents one being run over by a bus!

Jandals

A Kiwi told Callum that it was a Kiwi who had invented the Jandal. Yes well. Seems an unlikely scenario given the fact that Jandals by one name or another are, and have been for thousands of years, worn all over the world. Callum's response was quite simple. It may take a Kiwi to invent the Jandal but it took a Scot to invent the sympiesometer (Alexander James Adie - 1775-1858) and build the first practical steamboat (William Symington - 1764-1831) to name but two of very many things. Mind you I seem to recall that Rutherford, the person instrumental in the development of the atomic bomb was a New Zealander. But perhaps we'll not mention that.

So what, you Angles, Saxons and Celts may ask, is a Jandal. Surely everyone knows what a Jandal is. In reality, the slip-on shoe made from an upside down Y-shaped piece of rubber affixed into soft elongated oval pads is only called a Jandal in New Zealand.

While they are one of the world’s most popular forms of footwear, they are called many wondrously different names depending on where in the world you are. The British and the Americans call them Flip Flops and of course they are Thongs in Australia. And that's just the tip of the English-speaking iceberg so to speak.

With so many names (See Wikipedia), you might wonder who created the Jandal. Ask that question in whatever country you happen to be in and they will tell you that it was probably the Australians. After all, the Thong is an Australian icon promoted loudly by Kylie Minogue who rode one into the closing ceremony of the Sydney Olympic games. But the truth be told, they are not Australian.

Jandals, Flip Flops, thongs or whatever you call them were reputedly first created by a Kiwi in the early 1930s. But that’s not entirely true either, in fact only the rubber versions so common in everyone’s wardrobes today were first created in New Zealand. Interestingly, the Japanese have been using different versions for two thousand years, many of them woven and often including wooden bases – think the clog like shoes of the geisha in early Japanese history. Even before this, the Egyptians wore them as far back as 1200BC. So the 75 years they have been around in their rubber form is nothing compared to almost 3200 years of history in Northern Africa.

My Jandals

Teva Jandals: Anything but the basic jandal (nor the basic cost!)

Beach Jandals

"Dressy" Jandals (an oxymoron)

Not Quite the Day I Expected

If you have come to my Blog this morning in the UK then you may be wondering where today's posting is. Well the answer is that it's uncomposed because this evening, though a lovely evening, has not turned out as expected.

After a day in Napier enjoying the delights of Art Deco Weekend Sunday and meeting people and having lunch with a friend, I arrived back home at about 1730. Wendy popped down a little later to give me some news.

Martin and the children brought dinner down here for us all at about 1900 and then left to put the children to bed. Wendy and I continued to put the world to rights and reminisce until well after 2300 so I've not sorted all the photos for this evening's blog posting but I have had an absolutely splendid evening.

So tonight's posting will be one I've done earlier!

Warbirds

The Warbirds Display Team flew their display today. They centre it over the Soundshell on Marine Parade and last year I got quite a lot of video footage. Today we were just finishing our golf croquet and so I had to rely on the camera's 18x optical lens so capture them.

Art Deco Weekend

This is Napier's Art Deco Weekend.

I intend to write quite a few postings over the next while including images from some of the events.

A Pretty Good Day

I've just been standing on the deck. So that's not unusual but it's not something I do every night half an hour before midnight. Apart from the insects of the night - presumably cicadas - rasping away it is still, quiet and incredibly bright. The moon is in its first quarter and its light drown out all but the brightest stars and planets. It's not quite cold and it's not quite warm. It's the sort of night that, as a young man, I would have dreamed of holding someone close with a gentle passion that I would remember for the rest of my days. Only it was on a beach.

You might say that it's a pretty good end to a pretty good day.

Pretty good because I was on form and played good golf croquet this morning. This afternoon I had a couple of hours 'lesson' on how to use bisques (the croquet term for the free shots that go with a higher handicap than your opponent) and played better than I could possibly have hoped. Bummer then when I tried to turn the lesson into reality and nerves set in and hands tensioned and shots got muffed.

Drinkeries

Two of Napier's eatery/drinkery places on the harbour front with Napier Hill behind. Says it all really.

All's Quiet at HeeBeeGeeBeEs

When I came home late this morning after being knocked out of the Croquet Club's Handicap Singles, Marsha and Callum had left for Palmerston North and Wellington. The Cottage is quiet and empty. I shall miss them, their company, Marsha's cooking, Scrabble and films.

I can, of course, watch films on my own it's just that I would probably watch different films and fewer of them. My way of watching a film is to sit at my computer and do what I am doing and just pay attention when something interests me or I need to watch to keep up with the plot. I concentrate on the computer when something upsets me or irritates me or bores me. I am the worst person in the world with whom to watch most films - as Steve (an avid film fan and buff) will tell you.

I can, of course, cook for myself and I do. It is easier, though, to cook interesting things for three than for one. One thing is certain: I shall eat less! No more pancakes with ice cream and chocolate sauce all evening! I have a waistline to consider.

I decided after putting two loads of washing on the line to have a lazy afternoon. A wash cycle takes 35 minutes and by the time the second wash was complete the first wash of sheets and shirts etc had dried! The second wash of towels took very little longer. The wind is strong and warm - more efficient (and a lot cheaper!) than a tumble drier.

I finished reading McCall Smith's The Right Attitude to Rain. The key to contentment in the Scottish climate is the right attitude to rain - just as the key to happiness lies in making the best of what you have.

I should take the bike and go and get some exercise but, to be honest, I'd rather stay and read John Mortimore's Titmus Regained (sorry CJ but my reading at the moment is decidedly easy on what passes for my brain) with a gin and tonic in the sun and then, when the news comes on at 6pm, do the mountain of ironing that now awaits me.

And, yes, I do realise just how lucky I am.