Well, well, our little town has achieved notoriety! The Town that Stopped Jacinda. Our PM and our Guv (Governor-General) both have to isolate owing to being close contacts of an Omicron case on a flight from Kerikeri to Auckland. So the Plague has at last reached our remote outpost. Pull up the drawbridge, time for affirmative action! I’m starting with pickling the lovely beetroot gathered from my garden yesterday.
I’m sitting here in the early morning light, slapping mosquitoes as big as…well…sparrows. Truly, they are enormous. The price of the wonderful rain we had last week. I even have woolly socks on to protect my ankles. What a picture, in my PJs and socks, clutching my second cup of tea.
I hope you are having a great birthday Kaimoana, and that you have a wonderful, love-filled family lunch, and are really spoiled with treats. I bet your DGS is making quite a fuss of you.
Doodle -Yes, the Cruising Club’s activities could definitely be a bit suspect, couldn’t they, but here was I thinking that it was a bit like Hyacinth Bucket’s – it isn’t. It’s a pleasant, woodsy clubhouse overlooking the Bay of Islands and all the yachts and pleasure boats at their moorings. Everyone is very relaxed and casual, though every person there WAS wearing shoes. We occasionally used to go to dinner at the Game Fishing Club at Whangaroa, where all the huge marlin and sharks are brought in. Now there, shoes were definitely optional. But the fish and chips they served there were so unbelievably good -straight from the water, fresh as could be, and chips that were not frozen, but made from scratch by the ladies in the kitchen.
Interesting place, the perfect, unspoiled gem that is Whangaroa harbour – pristine, bush-clad hills, by British standards, actually mountains, surrounding water that is as clear and blue as anything anywhere in the world. So many people from all over the world live there for the Northern winter, in their bush and water retreats, then back to London/New York/Moscow for their summer. We met a couple from London at the club – they run their several UK businesses from their Whangaroa home, accessible only by water, and fly back to oversee things 6 or so times a year. Well, they used to…not sure what happens for them now.
How the other 0.0005% live, eh.
I have to go out shortly and find out what’s going on with my quail. Yesterday, the brown one was being incredibly aggressive towards the black one, chasing her round and round the cage. I checked online what makes formerly friendly girl quail so nasty, but everything seemed to be in order. They have plenty to eat, not crowded, not too much sunlight, no draughts. I put the brown one (amid huge flappings and protests) into a cardboard box on her own, with straw, food and water to try to calm her down and give little Olga time to recover. If she’s still making life horrible for Olga, I’m not sure what to do. Honestly, it’s like dealing with year 6 girls…the notorious year, where they are jostling for power, on the brink of puberty...”She hates me, Miss…she doesn’t want to be my friend…she was nasty to me…”.
Time to go and sort out the girls out.
Have a lovely evening, everyone.