End of an Era

Well, that's it. The Deathly Hallows went on sale a few minutes ago and the house sale in Canada is final; funds transferred, coincidently, at 00.01 GMT (11.01 Kiwi-time, 16.01 Pacific), the exact release time of JK's final spell.

This from the laywer, 'I must say that we have our list of favourite clients and you are at the top.' Nice words.

So, if I was Harry Potter and allowed to use spells outside Hogwarts, would I magic myself back to 1998 and use 'reversio' to make a different decision about buying ADPH? Probably yes. Not only was it a white elephant it was probably cursed from the start and, of course, as Tom and Elliot pointed out the day we moved in, 'Trees to climb but no river.'

Anyway, enough. Best wishes to Moira and Phil for the future (Paterson House is an anagram of another spouse, by the way :) and lessons to be learned for everyone.

World's Worst Website

WWW isn't 'just' a TLA for dub, dub, dub. This has got to be the World's Worst Website! And it's a swimming site!


I know there are some really, really bad ones around but, honestly, have you ever seen anything like it?

Up till today I would have given the WWW accolade to one of these four which all have one thing in common; me:

Central Lancashire Swimming & Waterpolo Association
'Central Lancashire' is defined in their rules as 'inside a 20-mile radius of Rochdale Town Hall.' Neat, eh? So I raced league dual meets almost every week in that area. There's a link to a map of the 20-mile radius on the site but it's broken. Shame, eh?

Bolton and District Swimming & Waterpolo Association
Bolton is the next bigish town up the valley from Rochdale and they also have an Association, probably defined as within x-miles radius of Bolton Town Hall. As Rochdale is included in the x-mile radius we also raced in this league every week.

Manchester and District Swimming & Waterpolo Association
And, likewise with Manchester Town Hall! And, again I raced this league almost every week.






Lancashire County Swimming & Waterpolo Association
At last, something slightly different. Lancashire County is a bit like LMR in Vancouver. They didn't have weekly leagues but they did have annual championships. Lots of racing going on. I'm sure there was some training thrown in there at times as well.

... and another thing
Don't you just hate sites that ask you to enter after you've arrived at the home page? Enter? That's why I visited!!

... just one more...
This new definition of 'winning' from the British Swimming website:

Britain’s 4x100m men’s Freestyle relay team got the European Junior Championship squad off to a winning start when they took silver on the first day of competition in Antwerp.

White Space

This post appears on Mister Tufte's site:

One possible advantage of paper is that it is calm:

Paper is calm.

It looked for a while that paper could be augmented, calmly, with hypertext, which allowed cross-referencing, something paper wasn't very good at. But look at a typical corperate web-page now, it appears to be in a state of constant alarm, like a vietnam veteran running knife in hand, screaming, through the University Library.

WordPerfect for DOS emulated one application of paper well toom the interface was almost as simple as holding a pen. Press this for bold, that for italic, that for underline, no more complex than changing writing implement in the real world. There's a few things you couldn't do, who cares, this wasn't paper, but it was as calm as paper. Now you've got Word for Windows version 8. Saying that your wordprocessor is more like paper because it contains a white rectangle on which symbols appear is rediculous. Buttons appear from nowhere with bizzare brightly lit symbols on them, menus, status bars all kinds of things demanding to be pressed, pulled down, popped up, selected, and activated. This isn't calm paper, it's like walking up to a piece of paper and having to use it via the controls of a VCR-timer-from-hell.

The extract above was written in 1997. I'm not sure whether things have gotten better or worse in the last ten years.

-- David Magda (email), July 18, 2007

It's Only Words

Swimming Canada (SNC) is notorious for using eighty-three long-winded words in policies when two or three short ones would do just as well or even better. They recently published selection criteria for various representative teams which contained the following:

Amendments and Unforeseen Circumstances
In all situations SNC makes a best effort to consider every possible circumstance when crafting and approving selection documents. SNC also recognizes that unforeseen circumstances may present themselves and create a necessity to amend components of these selection criteria. The SNC Selection Committee, if faced with such circumstances, will receive counsel from SNC staff and other interested parties who chair of the selection committee may deem appropriate for input into the consideration of any such amendments. Such amendments shall be considered up to 72 hours prior to the trials competition and shall not change the key direction of the selection document nor radically amend the qualifying mechanisms.

So the challenge is, how few words can we use while retaining the same meaning? The last bit is important because otherwise we are imposing our values and ideas on their systems and that's not the exercise. All we're doing is streamlining their systems to make them more user-friendly.

They have 111 words, I got it down to 51 with:

Selection Criteria Amendments
SNC always seeks to write Selection Criteria covering all possible circumstances. If, however, changes become necessary the Selectors will consult with parties deemed interested and may publish minor amendments up to 72 hours prior to the Selection competitions which will not fundamentally change the original direction or mechanisms.

and a colleague tried:

SNC recognise that components of the selection criteria may be amended up to 72 hours prior to the trials if deemed appropriate by the selection committee chair.

... which is 27 words plus whatever title is used but, IMHO, deserves an 'F' by refusing to guarantee no change in the mechanism or direction. Under the rules of the game, just the potential to change the meaning must be an 'F' score. When this was pointed out the same colleague responded with, 'disagree .....and any change changes the meaning anyway..... it is not possible to change anything without changing the meaning!' Well, I ask you? What sort of world-view is that? The flaws started to show when they admitted partial defeat (most unlike them):

'yes .. I agree. you can change the words without changing the meaning (which I did).. however, they have indicated that they can make a change to the policy so no matter how small the change they have changed the meaning'

The bold is my emphasis illustrating the total nonsense of the logic (again, most unlike; maybe they're developing old-timer's disease). If a), you can change the words without changing the meaning, then b), no matter how small the change they have changed the meaning, is contradictory (infuriatingly, not most unlike!). When queried the response was changing a timeline or number changes the mechanism to which my response was:

No it doesn’t. It’s like accelerating and changing the rev speed of my Jaguar in top gear; it doesn’t change gear it just speeds up the car using exactly the same mechanism but more fuel.

.. and received the mind-blowing reply:

wrong analogy in the context of swimming - if you change the speed then you have made a change to the mechanics for achieving that speed

Now! Let's have a pause right here; the collegue is someone who thinks ... and I quote ... swim races are about just jumping into water and waving your arms and legs around,; so, that's the perspective on what we are dealing with here. They also questioned the car analogies. OK, they're female, 'nuff said, probably but what's wrong with car analogies anyway? I think they're perfect for this subject. They are, after all, about mechanical systems and they go in 'a' direction!! I'm told those of the female persuasion don't respond to car analogies; maybe I should use doll analogies?

This is the main body of my reply so far:

If I 'amend' the colour of a Jaguar from greeny-blue to black there is no change to the mechanism of how the car works and no change to the direction it's driving in. The reason to make the change is because greeny-blue is a much nicer colour for a Jaguar than black (no-one would disagree with that). If I amend the direction by turning the wheel, that's different because it will end up in a different destination but I can write a guarantee that I won't do that, and I can allow myself to change the colour and still arrive at the same destination, in the same condition, at the same time.

I can also change the car by making it smaller (an X-type rather than an XJ) and it won't necessarily change the mechanism or direction but it may do as, eg, my V8 engine won’t fit under the bonnet of an X-type. So, if I want to change the size, I have to be aware of any previously agreed guarantees that these would not be changed. However, if I keep the size the same but change the engine from XJ8 (3.2 litre) to 2.0 litre X-type, I definitely have changed the mechanism and the car won't perform the same – its top speed will be slower. If I have an X-type and take the engine out and substitute the 6.75 litre turbocharged V8 from the Bentley I will, not only change the mechanism but also the direction because the car won’t handle properly and will veer off the road and crash!

There are some things which fall into a grey area, eg, cloth or leather seats, headlight bulbs, or tyre choices. Whether a change there is a change in direction or mechanism would depend on the individual change - cloth or leather seats probably wouldn't make any difference, headlights may and tyres probably would.

So what's your best effort? How few words?

You Got Shares! Yeah Right.

This is today's (18 July) sequence of communications from BurgerFuel:

9.41 am
BurgerFuel will be going public, as the company is now guaranteed to reach the minimum threshold of $8M.
As applications are still coming in, we are yet uncertain of the final tally of shares that have been applied for. But as applications literally quadrupled in volume on the last day, it seemed logical to extend by a week, thus giving any latecomers the chance to apply to become shareholders.

'It seems logical to extend by a week' because the deadline was met by a huge amount of people? I don't get it. Isn't a deadline a deadline? That's when you're supposed to reply by. If you don't you've missed the boat. But, I guess the company is looking at the late surge and saying, 'Bugger the deadline, it was only a guideline anyway.'

12.57 pm
If you wanted to buy shares in the company or simply ran out of time, you now have a few more days. The BurgerFuel share offer period has been extended until Monday 23rd July.

AKA if you didn't take the opportunity or weren't impressed by the offering, we're giving you another chance and the bidders who actually got off their duff and bid on the offer can go screw themselves.

4.29 pm
We’re still in the midst of processing the share applications that have come in (special thanks to all of those who applied early!), but most importantly - we’re definitely going public!

special thanks to all of those who applied early! Yeah right, and you really mean that, don't you?

The NZX has given us an extension to process these applications, but we can confirm that your application for shares has been processed and that you will definitely own a piece of BurgerFuel Worldwide.

So I will definitely own 'a piece'; that's good.. But will my 'piece' be a smaller piece because of the extension?

You can view the official press release here. The release date is 16 July but it wasn't emailed out to bidders until 18 July! Electronic communication moves at the speed of light; that's pretty damned fast.

Lastly, if you know anyone who has not yet applied – and would like too – they can do that anytime on-line or in-store -up until Monday 23rd July 2007.

OK, so if I want a zillion more people to aply for 'my' shares I can encourage them to do so after the dealine. So that's alright then.

I like the concept, I like the image, I like the product and I like the plans but I think they've got the last three days wrong.

ExcelArt

MS Excel amazes me. I did the swimformation poster in Excel and it actually confused the programme. The file was so large it used up ALL the available columns (never known that before) and, towards the end, it was switching font layout top/bottom within cells, presumably because it couldn't cope.

However, how about 'art'? It's in italics because art is in the eye of the beholder and I think it's art. Check these out:

Share and Share Alike

No news from BurgerFuel. I wonder how I did?

Go Long Distance

We have a programme called goLD (go Long Distance) here and today I opened a blog for them to interact. Check it out here but do it soon because I'm going to close it down to registered access only.

Do You Want Shares With That?

The BurgerFuel share offer expires today. This is the first dipping of my toes in the shallows of Stock Exchange investment. If it turns out to be a Microsoft or Starbucks then I'm in clover. If its a South Sea Bubble (look it up for yourself!) then I'm in doo-doo. However, sales are up 41% in the quarter to end June compared to last year so we shall see.

The dilemma is, if I get all the shares I've requested it means the offer wasn't over-subscribed but if it is popular and over-subscribed I'll only get a portion. I guess that's what they call a self-regulating system. Clever really.

I supported their profits at lunchtime. Being a VIB (Very Important Burger Person), I had a Three 1/2 Bucks voucher ("In Burgers We Trust", "This meat will be tender at all stores.") which stated it was 'legal tender for 1 x Spud Fries with Aioli dip valued at $3.50 with any Burger purchased.'. I ordered the Shareholder Combo Special and presented my voucher. First problem; the unhappy-looking girl on the other side of the counter stared at the voucher, then mumbled something incomprehensible. I reached out to take it back so I could re-read it and she pulled it in closer. I asked for it back. Still no go. She wandered into the kitchen to consult some higher authority (BurgerMeister? - the first sentence, by the way, tells us the Mayor is the head of a Municipality or City.) and obviously got no joy because she sulked all the way back out to tell me the voucher wasn't valid with Specials. Hmm... "... with any Burger purchased." A tad tenuous on the clarity I think. I'll send this blog to the owners and get their opinion.

Anyway, the young thing, who was wearing five different horizontally striped stockings at various levels of layering was actually doing her best. It was lunchtime and she was the only person at front of shop, having to cover sales, packing and delivery to tables as well as take-a-way customers, all by herself; not good staffing ratios. One person was doing the cooking and the 'higher Burger authority' was invisible.

The food is excellent. HUGE portions, way too big for 'normal' people; really well conceived, well designed, well prepared and well cooked. The fries are probably the best in Wellington, the meat in the Burgers is top class and the buns are definitely 'buns to steal!'

Let's hope the share offer is way-oversubscribed, I end up with all my requests, BurgerFuel Worldwide go on to rule the gastronomic Universe, everyone renounces vegetarianism (sorry Laurel) and I live happily ever after. The cows will have to fend for themselves.

The Light of Day

Just because its a nice view, here's another Wellington sunrise. If you look carefully you can see the first flight of the morning :)

Tallin and Paris

A few blogs ago I mentioned buying a Rodin replica from The Louvre. Well, I think I simply said Paris but it was bought at The Louvre Museum shop.



The Louvre is one of the most amazing places I've ever been (and I've been some); not the most amazing, that's reserved for the Mount of Olives in Jerusalem. It is absolutely HUGE. You need a week to get round it properly. I had an afternoon but it was wonderful. The Rodin is destined for a plinth in the main entrance to The House and I think it will go very nicely.

Paris is wonderful, isn't it? I have no idea of the name of the part I stayed in but check out this shop. Millions of things neatly stacked and waiting purchase; lovely style, character and panache (no doubt a French word).

I was disappointed with Notre Dam cathedral. I know its one of the architectural wonders of the 'modern' world but everything was just too mercenary and the tourists taking photos during Mass were appalling.

The corner restaurants are the most attractive in the world, of course.

This one was simply buzzing around lunchtime and I captured the three waiters in animated movement. Interesting, if you crop then compare colour and monochrome.

I think monochrome brings out more character. Maybe we've lost something by introducing more information?

I gave myself a present of the two days in Paris on the way back from Estonia. Tallin, the capital, decided to have a major diplomatic spat with Russia while I was there so there were riots, water-cannons, 1,000 arrests and the Army on the street; terrific. Tallin is a very old, dating from 1154 and, up to 1625, St. Olav's Church was the tallest building in the world.

The guys who invented Skype are from Tallin and within a couple of years the whole of Estonia will have free, wireless internet coverage; really backward and uncivilised these former Soviet satellites' eh? The most memorable things about 'old' Tallin were the shop signs hanging outside every business; colourful, imaginative, descriptive, attractive and attracting.


Although Estonia is a full member of the EEC they still use their own currency, the Krooni or Krone (EEK), as well as the Euro. No problem inside the country but NOWHERE outside Estonia will convert EEK to any other currency, even other European Community countries.

... and food!

These were actually written some time ago but I'll post them now.

26 February 2007
Little India, 115 Cuba Mall, Wellington

Golf and India; incongruence at the extreme. You know when you’re surrounded by oxymora; friendly fire, jumbo shrimp, honest lawyers, Microsoft Works, Military intelligence and, much more enticing, perceived oxymora; almost exactly, dry ice, good grief, live recording, minor disaster, non-dairy creamer (one of my favourites), random order, standard deviation, white gold - you know the score? Even more enticing than perceived oxymoria are chances to run to earth the truth behind urban folklore legends and lay them bare, naked and spread-eagled.


Well, I found myself in an oxymoron this week. You know when you’re in a familiar setting but can’t quite remember if you’ve eaten in a particular restaurant? It happens to me a lot; more so in recent years but that’s a different story. A blonde and I were wandering down Cuba Street in Wellington looking for lunch and vaguely discussing which restaurants we had already eaten in and we decided we had enjoyed excellent service and cuisine in Little India. Of course when we arrived at the door and looked through the window we realized we had never been there in our lives!

Inside the décor was pleasant and mostly simple except for a framed flag from the 18th Green at Pinehurst No. 2 where Michael Campbell won the 2005 US Open! Does he own the restaurant? Does he exclusively eat there when he’s in New Zealand and away from his Brighton home; questions, questions, questions? The flag is autographed and there’s an accompanying picture of the smiling Mister Campbell holding the appropriate trophy along with three un-explained metal buttons/badges/money-clips associated with the competition (very perplexing these) – the thing must be worth thousands! This is the only non-Indian piece of art in the whole place and its quite disconcerting. Mind you, all the other pictures are of Jackie O riding elephants and dancing somewhere in the sub-continent. The only image missing is a cerise and lilac-clad Princess Diana sulking in front of the Taj Mahal; cultural schizophrenia springs to mind. Why is the green-flag there, what is it telling us? Is it a sports-auction trophy, is it a benevolent gift from a grateful diner, is it maybe vindaloo motivation paying homage to the apocryphal story of Michael’s mid-round visits to the loo en-route to his win? I made a serious error of omission by not asking the waiter about these world-shattering questions and I promise to return at a later date to correct this.

We sat in the window and watched the various Cuba Street gangs planning bank robberies, scantily-clad women displaying their wares on one of Wellington’s ‘always like this’ amazing days, and formally (a.k.a. anally) dressed businessmen seriously going about their lunchtime perambulations, as well as the usual, wonderful assortment of Cuba weirdos. Ordering was easy; the menu was concise, simple and clear, the choices varied and enticing and the waiter was polite, efficient and - a real bonus - appeared to speak English. Nothing revolutionary; chicken Tika Masala for me and the cleverly named Murg Mumtaz (butter chicken to the less than cunning linguists amongst you) for the blonde. We shared a Boti Kebab to start which was a disappointment; the ‘secret recipe marinade’, presumably developed over thousands of years, seemed to transmogrify the meat and gave a new dimension to the concept of rubber. However the mains were outstandingly memorable with delicate, tasty, and tactilely pleasant sauces, definitely warranting a return in the near future. At least I can research Michael Campbell’s ablutionary habits.

Lunch prices:
Starters $8-$10ish, mains $10-$12ish

Evening prices:
Starters same, mains $17-$19-ish

Food:
Absolutely top class but avoid the Boti Kebab.

Value:
Excellent.

Service:
Friendly, professional, efficient.

Ambience:
Late lunch so not many people left in there but nothing to suggest it wouldn’t be superb at any time of the day.

1 March 2007
Floriditas, 161 Cuba Street, Wellington

Floriditas? What does it mean? Of course it doesn’t have to mean anything; it can simply be a meaningless name which sticks in peoples’ heads. And I’m sure it does to a certain extent.

On the other hand, pregnancy; we all know what it means but the real issue is what does it do to you; I mean apart from filling you full of babies, causing your ankles to swell and affecting your centre of gravity, we all know it disturbs the equilibrium of your digestive tract and produces diurnally predictable reversal of the peristaltic progression of digested food. Also (personal experience here) it produces imbalance in the homeostasis of temperature control resulting in fainting in over-heated Italian restaurants when you’re eight-and-a-lot-months gone. But obviously it does more than that because today I lunched with a pregnant blonde and witnessed symptoms of nutritionally depraved behaviour which were disturbing to behold. (Disclaimer: the pregnant blonde was not the same person as the blonde who accompanied me to Little India a few days ago; apparent blondeness is a common denominator, claimed pregnancy is not).

To be straight we weren’t planning on Floriditas to begin with. We had agreed on Olive - still on Cuba but on ‘the other side of the street’ both figuratively and literally - know what I mean? We entered at 11.22 am and Olive’s breakfast menu was chalked up. We weren’t impressed by the content and asked if they were serving lunch. Apparently breakfast finishes at 11.30 and lunch starts at 12.00. You can see the problem can’t you? Apparently they can’t. What the hell happens in the intervening 30 minutes? The concept of ‘all-day breakfasts’ transcends it all; why are you only allowed bacon and eggs at breakfast time and why are lamb shanks only available in the evening? I know chefs have to ‘plan’ and ‘control inventory’ but freezers are good things and microwaves are the savior of modern ‘chef-ness’. So we bailed out of Olive and ‘crossed the Cuba floor’ to Floriditas. Wonderful first impression; clean, fresh, bright and tasteful. We approached the counter and were met by a very personable guy; ‘Are you serving lunch,” we asked? He semi-rotated to check out a wonderful, clock suspended from the ceiling which must have been stolen from a 19th Century railway station; it read 11.25 am. ‘Yes!’ he exclaimed. RIGHT ANSWER! Olive please note.

However, that was it from the personable guy for the time being. We were left to our own devices to find a table but were quickly attended to by a nice young thing with tempting menus. These were very elegantly designed and printed but presented in an extremely tatty cover/holder. Shame really, and a clue to other shortfalls which could potentially transform the place onto a real gastronomic gem.

From outside, the windows are impressive – Floriditas’ designs and glass etchings display a terrific image enticing customers inside and the interior impression is classy and tranquil. Once inside, however, the reverse, exterior view of Cuba Street is not the best. Cuba deteriorates rapidly as you transverse South to North and the architecture and passing clientele deteriorate accordingly. Floriditas’ customers display style and class second to none but that’s in spite of the location, not because of it. I wasn’t hungry so ordered rocket leaves, olive oil and feta as a side and roasted tomato and summer herb soup with baguette as a main. The pregnant blonde, visibly exhibiting an appetite suitable for a Tyrannosaurus Rex, restricted herself to char-grilled rib-eye but failed to conceal the immense amount of self-control necessary to restrict herself to just one choice of mains.

While we waited for service the discussion turned to other gastronomic delights. The previous evening I’d seen ‘Hannibal Rising’ so the cannibalistic developments in the maturation of the young Hannibal were significant, particularly the gastronomic survival necessities during the Second World War. If you or I were exposed to young Hannibal’s experiences, who knows, maybe we would also have matured into serial-murdering-socio-psychopaths with exquisite taste and questionable tendencies? The discussion then progressed to maggots as a problem with sheep rearing and the dangers of pneumonia when lambs fall into lakes – all in a day’s general flux of Kiwi day-to-day conversation.

My salad was promising. There was no evidence of salt at all but had the Chef added sea salt, increased the Feta by 50%, upped the amount of olive oil and introduced Kalamata olives he could have a stunning introductory dish. The description of the soup was enticing; ‘roasted tomato with summer herbs.’ The summer herbs turned out to be overwhelmingly parsley which totally obliterated the tomatoes and ruined the whole soupy experience. Additionally the soup was lukewarm – no excuse for that.

On the other side of the equation the pregnant blond was ecstatic. Apart from devouring the menu in anticipation, her order of grilled rib-eye was a conscious restriction of appetite constrained by evolutionary peer pressure – she wanted a veritable horse-trough; it didn’t work. After slicing through and thoroughly masticating the resulting culinary presentation in record time (before I’d taken a quarter of the soup) she pronounced, ‘Jeez, I’ll come here again. Everything tastes absolutely beautiful and the meat is divine.’ I thought her portion looked small but pregnancy changes your metabolism, it must do - there’s another person inside your being, and the pregnant blonde considered ordering the same meal again so maybe Floriditas should serve bigger portions for pregnant people (usually women).

My espresso was translated into ‘short black’ by the waitress. The espresso beans were over-roasted and tasted burnt. For all its overt sophistication Wellington is not the ‘center of the sophis-Universe’ that it would wish to be. It’s not far off, but its not there yet.

As we were leaving I noticed the place seemed to be a veritable chick-magnet: weirdly, females outnumbered males 8:1. When we approached the check-out we saw some lovely looking tarts (nothing to do with the chicks). Enquiry determined they were quince, taste displayed they were wonderful and offering to pay for them resulted in an offer of ‘gratis’ from the ‘personable guy’ encountered on our entrance!

Anyway, obviously 1) if you’re pregnant: eat at Floriditas, 2) pregnancy alters your taste buds. Maybe I’m pregnant.

Lunch prices:
Starters - no idea; they don’t really do them as such.

Mains:$16-$20

Food:
Variable – excellent if you’re pregnant, if-ish if you’re trying to be.

Value:Good

Service:Confusing

Ambience:
Amazingly chick-friendly.

Post Golf

Beautiful day. Sunny, light breeze and magificent scenery. It was wonderful to be on the fairways. Fresh air, a slight tinge of ozone, bright sunlight producing long, long shadows across the greens. I always think we should play the first hole as a practice then start scoring on the second and replay the first as the 19th. It always takes me a few holes to get grooved in. Tiger Woods is reputed to have said, 'The laws of physics are the same throughout the Universe, except on a golf course.' And, you know, the young man has something there. Live and dead wood both have an uncanny attractive force for dimpled, Surlyn-covered spheres, and balls which you would swear were sitting larger-than-life in the middle of the fairway, are regularly hidden down their burrows by unseen bunnies who sell them back to the club house later.

The gloopy oxtail stew is delicious; another bowlfull and then replace the oxtail bones with beef bones and continue creating.

Food for Thought

The bacon butties were magnificent but I've run out of brown sauce which takes the world-class edge off them. The oxtail stew is simmering away and will be waiting when I return from golf. Blue skies and fluffy white clouds today but still cold. Last week we had to abandon the game just past half way because of the bitter cold.

Yesterday I had a simple favourite from way, way back; 'three-course' cabbage. Just slice a fresh cabbage in half and steam or boil it for a few minutes till its tender but still slightly crispy-crunchy. Transfer it to a plate and liberally cover it in butter then copious amounts of freshly ground black pepper. That's it. Enjoy! A great snack or start to another dish.

I notice people do things differently. Some people cut the rind off their bacon, some don't. Some pile their goat curry into the centre of their pile of rice, others distribute it around the edges. Some people put a tick in a form box, others put a cross. I've noticed that the people who cut their rind off also put a tick and put their curry round the edges. Is there some deep connection between these actions?

DVD's and Books
Bought Notting Hill yesterday. It was on special at the local Kwikimart. Nice, gentle film. I like it. Somewhat different to the series I watched the previous few nights; Manhunter, Red Dragon, Silence of the Lambs and Hannibal. I have Hannibal Rising on order from Amazon so that joins the collection soon.

The Deathly Hallows is also on order from Amazon but I think that may be a mistake as it will take a few days to get here and there's no way I'll be able to escape knowing the ending! I may have to buy a first copy before the Amazon one arrives. Also yesterday Tuscany Interiors arrived from Amazon. It came in a big box filled with those white worm things and inside a big sack. Never had that before. I already have Provence Interiors from a used bookshop on Cuba Street; magificent things published by Taschen and really quite cheap for what they are.

Starting Over

Well, I've crossed the great divide; I've opened a blog! It seems rather silly but not silly at the same time. Anyway, here we go.

Unusually I am at a loss for words; not something I'm used to when in front of a keyboard. Let's start with an update of the last few weeks then see where we go from there.

Start of a New Day
Check out the sunrise a few weeks ago. We've had a few like that lately. Wonderful.

Brrr...
It's winter here and how! No snow in Wellington but so, so cold. My heater is a puny single fan electric thing which is totally adequate for the other 11 months of the year but this last two weeks have been bitter. Two pairs of socks, extra layers of hoodies, big Speedo toweling robe over my other clothes during the evenings. My skin hasn't been working properly either which has compounded the homeostasis challenge. Eczema is horrible. I think I prefer asthma but I guess if it was bad I wouldn't say that. Anyway I eventually gave in and visited the Doctor who prescribed the usual steriods and antibiotics. They are remarkable because, after weeks of really uncomfortable irritation, even though lathering myself with my usual medications and moisturisers, the steriods kick in after about five hours and everything is sweetness and light. Skin is the biggest organ and when its not working properly there is a tremendous stress placed simply managing existence. Two little pink tablets and five hours later I can relax, stand straight, breath calmly, think clearly and generally look the world in its face. Remarkable.

The good news is I 'won' a slow cooker the other day. FlyBuys points (like AirMiles in Canada) emailed me saying I had 416 points and 5 were going to expire. 416! I think I've been using the card at the Supermarket for five years so 416 doesn't seem very many. However, for 415 I could have a cordless phone or a slow cooker so I went for the slow cooker because I like slow-cooking. It'll take a few days to arrive.

Big, hearty, brothy stews are the order of the day at this time of year. Oxtail bones, leeks, mushrooms, onions, potatoes, left-over black olives, pulses, all simmering away in red wine for hours until the glutionous mass demands consumption. Lovely.

Rancho Relaxo
With the Canadian house-sale done and dusted (except for receiving the money, of course :)) I'm starting to get antsy about the progress of the architectural drawings here. Clint (who's company is called Cunning Plans!) has captured my thoughts so exactly its uncanny but its time to speed up and get on with things. He's away on Waiheki until the middle of this coming week so I guess I'll get an update next weekend.


I have a thousand pictures ripped from the world-wide interweb, scanned from books or sent by Tom and others, of various examples of Italian architecture. The finished product will be an amalgamation of many of these examples. We're close to final decisions about where the stairs will be, especially in the library and living rooms.
I bought a Rodin replica sculpture in Paris the other month and an abstract oil painting from Roxy Cafe across the road from the office. I think I'll have plenty of scuptures, pictures and carvings to give the place an arty feel straight from the get-go.

I do, however, still need a 'real' name. Rancho Relaxo really doesn't do it, does it? How about Ritiene di destra which is Italian for 'Feels right'?

That's not bad for someone who was lost for words. Breakfast now - bacon butties with mushrooms :)