Anzac Day

Today is Anzac Day in New Zealand.  I have blogged about it previously in 2008 and 2009.  Pauline wrote a poignant post today which shows things from an Australian New Zealander's viewpoint.  Remembrance Day on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month is not Poppy Day in New Zealand.  Today is.

Martin was up at 5.15 to go to the Dawn Parade in Napier.  More and more people go each year.

I find that quite surprising given the fact that the day it commemorates - the day when Anzacs (Australian and New Zealand  Army Corps) landed in Gallipolli and the Gallipolli Campaign commenced - is almost 100 years ago.

Someone remarked to me today that she didn't need a 'Day' to remember those who had died in the events and horrors of war.  That made me think.  I don't think of either Anzac Day nor Remembrance Day as being a commemoration of a particular day nor a particular war.  To me all war is abhorrent. 

I've blogged before on the subject of war and the 100 million or so people who lost their lives in wars during the last century. 

If Anzac Day means that the horrors of war are brought to the forefront of our minds then I think that is a Good Thing.  If it means that we concentrate on the glorification of the heroics of war then I have severe reservations.

To me all war is anathema and, on balance, I think that the more we remember that then the less likely we are to end up in another war.  I would be much more comfortable, however, if the evidence of the past backed up that feeling and that hope.

Katy Did or Perhaps Katy Didn’t

Although this 45mm long Katydid (Maori, Kiki Pounamu, L. Caedicia simplex) may be a native insect (it’s also found in Australia) it is called after the call of the American Katydyd (Katy Did, Katy Didn’t).  Well that’s what Andrew Crowe tells us.  It is quite a coincidence that after just posting about the Tussock Katydid in my Monday Morning Medly a week or so ago I should come across this one so soon after.   As far as I can recall I’ve never seen one before.   It can jump or fly.  At night it eats fresh leaves, flower buds and fruit and these can change its colour to a pinkish red.

Am I Going Soft?

I’m not really a domestic pet person.  Not for myself that is.  Apart from anything else my lifestyle makes it a completely impractical option.

I used to have a cat. I inherited him.  I called him BP:  stood for Big Puss.  I never have been able to recall what his proper name was.  I loved him dearly though.

He loved to be in the room where I was.  That was usually only a problem if he was in the kitchen where, if I was cooking, he would curl up in the middle of the floor when I wasn’t looking.  Invariably when I turned round I stood on him.  It never stopped him doing it.  There were rules though.  He was not allowed in the bedroom.  He would sit at the door but never come over the threshold.

The Family were at The Cottage for dinner last Thursday before I went to Mahunga (Mahia) for the weekend.  When the Family come down the dog, Misty, and the cat, Comet, invariably come too.

When I came to go to bed there was Comet on my bed and settled in for the night.  All commands to leave were met by a slightly contemptuous and very slight opening of one eye.  

Comet

I must have been in an extraordinarily mellow mood that evening because I decided, as she wasn’t on my side of the bed, she could just stay there.  Next morning after going out for a while she returned and settled down on the couch for yet another sleep.  She was most indignant when, on leaving for my weekend away, she was ejected.

I must be going really soft!

The Ferry to Rawene

When we went to the Church at Motukaraka, in order to avoid a very long road journey, we first had to get the ferry across the Hokianga Harbour from Kohukohu where we were staying to Rawene (a lovely little place with an exceptionally helpful garage - well it was the owner rather than the garage who was helpful.  Odd how we sometimes say that a thing is helpful).  Before we got on the ferry we could see the church across the harbour in the far distance.  The buildings below the church is the Marae of the hapu on who's land the church stands.

Going North (Just for the weekend).

The family are coming for dinner this evening.  Tomorrow first thing I'm off to Mahia with the croquet girls with whom I go to tournaments.  One of our number has a bach there and we're off for what looks like becoming an annual event.  Last year we had a great time but the weather was indifferent to say the least.  I've just watched the 7pm forecast and full sun is promised over the weekend and beyond.  That would be a real bonus.

The downside is that there is no internet and no cellphone coverage so I shall be incommunicado until Monday night.  Hopefully, though, I'll have lots of photos to show for what should be a great weekend.

Thankful Thursday

My brother, Scriptor Senex aka CJ talked last Thursday about noise: his favourites and his least favourites and he invited people to name theirs.  Which a number of people did.

I commented that amongst my favourites are the loud and clear songs of the Bellbird and the Tui outside The Cottage and rain on the roof or windows when I am snug in bed. One of my dislikes is the adverts on TV (particularly in NZ) when the sound is ramped up so much over the set level for the programme.  (This is denied but I don't believe the denials!).

The more I've thought about sounds since then the more I have realised that most of the sounds I really love are either sounds of nature or sounds of music.  I think that most of us dislike the man-made sounds that intrude into our lives but there are also some natural sounds which frighten or even terrify us.  Having lived through a hurricane which destroyed part of my house on Lewis I can say that it was one of the most frightening experiences of my life.  How the people of Tornado Alley in the US including at least one follower of this blog (I hope you are OK Cynthia - I've just seen more Oklahoma tornados on TV).  So the sounds of hurricane force winds would be amongst my least favourite sounds of nature.  As is the sound of an earthquake - and I've only experienced the noise resulting from a relatively small one.

What I really love, though, is that I live in environments with few neighbours and only the noise of the countryside to listen to (other than, of course, my music which I can play without disturbing anyone).

So today I am thankful for the fact that I have the gift of hearing but that I also have the option of silence in the places where I live.