Kia Ora

I'm boning up on singing "Where is Thumbkin?" in Maori for tomorrow's Under-3's session at work; it's tying in with Maori Language Week. My pronunciation is pretty downpat, but I still get nervous speaking Te Reo out loud in public.

We made pois at this week's Preschool Craft session - I took mine home for the Smallest to play with, but ended up having to confiscate them after she tried to strangle one of the cats with the cords. I never cease to be alarmed at her level of deviancy; I was reading about baby horoscopes on Violet's blog and put it down to that, instead of dysfunctional parenting. Although horrid things like that are balanced with gems like (when speaking to her on the phone at her father's place) "Mum, I just have to block my ears so Shelley can't hear me talk." Nice.

I'm a Page Three girl - I managed to get myself into the local rag again this week, dressed as Professor McGonagal for our reading of the new Harry Potter book over the school holidays. Although I usually feel no shame at these things, it's getting to be a proxy situation now - I feel bad for my kids; the Oldest is doing the Tweenage thing and Mummy donning grey wigs/Cat in the Hat/Clifford/teddy bear costumes is becoming painfully embarrassing for her.

Yearning for surgery

I TRIED to get The Book done for the party, but was totally unsuccessful. In fact, I still haven't finished it, but I explained to my sister that "what I was doing" (without giving it away) was a huge task, so bear with me. The fact that I received my last birthday pressie at least 6 months late did a lot to make me feel better.

The party was fab, we all looked very pretty, although yet again I was left wishing I could afford a neck lift... the curse of maternal genes. I managed to pass off a drunk fall-down-the-steps stagger as a `pretend' one... wasn't my fault; the gorgeous stilletoes my Man picked out were a challenge even for the most sober among us.

Came back to work yesterday. It hurt. I had to be at work ALL DAY. It's going to take a couple of days to get back into the swing of things. Dammit.

A monumental task

I've been trying my hand at scrapbooking for the first time. I'm making up a "30 years of sisterhood" memory book for my sister for her 30th birthday... it's proving to be a most arduous, albeit very enjoyable - task. I'm supposed to give it to her tomorrow at her birthday bash, but so far I've only done the cover of the album and a couple of pages about her wedding. It's very sentimental-looking, but I'm like that and so is my sister, so I think she'll like it.


I am the world's biggest procrastinator, as I haven't started on it again this morning; instead I have whiled away a bit of time watching a pair of blackbirds flirting in the tree outside my window... and blogging.

I have been preoccupied with taking spooky photos of churches at night this week - found a good one in Cambridge on Saturday and a couple of great gothic-looking ones inPalmerston.

Meh - on with the album.

The tiki-tour

Spent the weekend traipsing around the country.. well not really; went to Hamilton with the fella to meet some more whanau. I met the brother, the sister-in-law, the nephew and the daughter. His daughter is a few months older than my oldest - we went shopping (read: I dragged the poor things around the shops on my find-a-skirt-for-my-sister's-party mission). She's really quite sweet.

Stopped in at his Mum's for dinner last night; was lovely to see her again.. and I was afraid that I would miss an opportunity to see the first episode of Desperate Housewives, but luckily the mother was as intent on watching it as I was.

Thanks to Violet, I have just starting reading We Need to Talk About Kevin, by Lionel Shriver. I'm only a little way through, but already I am disturbed by the character's seeming emotional detachment from her son. I don't like her very much at all.

I'm getting brave enough to start wondering if the wider world would want to waste spare time reading my blog... there was a lot of W's in that sentence. I think it's a good thing that I don't yet know how to throw my blog into the consciousness of the Blogger World.

It's only Tuesday, but I'm already starting to dread the end of my week off. I need to loosen up and stop living ahead of time.

Woohoo - last day of real work til next weekend!

About bloody time - I ran around like a headless chicken today, getting everything ready for the rest of the holiday programme next week.. while I am on HOLIDAY!!! Can you tell I'm excited about it?

We had a local poet come in to judge the staff 'favourite poems' display today. A lot of staff members contributed to a display promoting Poetry Day and there were some fabulous-looking entries. Yours truly got quite embarrassed when the judge declared mine the winner (for the poem I posted further down in my blog)... for both originality and artistic merit.. aww shucks.

Off to Palmerston then Hamilton tomorrow, then back to Palmerston on Monday... where I will begin the artistic endeavour of putting together the memory book for my sister's birthday next week. That, along with a stack of books to read, some shopping and tentative coffee plans with friends, makes up the rest of my week... hallelujah!

I had to speak firmly to my ex-husband about picking our girls up (for the week) earlier rather than later tomorrow - was supposed to be 1pm, but he rang, all excited about lunching with an All Black, asking if it could be later. Nope, was my uncompromising reply. It wouldn't have been a problem if I wasn't driving to Hamilton tomorrow. Luckily, we get on better now than when we were married, so it wasn't a problem.

Sigh sigh - I'd best be finishing the washing and packing for tomorrow. It couldn't come fast enough, but first I have to don my Professor McAlison robes for a half-hour reading of the new Harry Potter book at lunchtime tomorrow. The things we do.

I forgot to mention...

... the scabby woman who came in to the Library whilst we were face-painting yesterday afternoon. The mirror we were using to show children their finished faces was sitting on the table right next to me and this woman strolled right up and bent down, as if to examine herself in the mirror (and no - we didn't paint her face). Alas, she was not just looking - she found a pimple to squeeze and was hammering away at it whilst I froze, paintbrush in mid-air, in abject horror.

There's not much to be said for opportunism.

Yay for annual leave

It's the school holidays and I have successfully negotiated the second week off... no work OR sprogs. The anticipation is fast becoming a rabid beast inside me!

I am adding to a smallish collection of books to read during the week (oh, the BLISS of it)... I will be buying a copy of the new Harry Potter book on Saturday and, seeing as I'm spending the entire week at the Fella's house, I will have to find a compromise for both of us to read it, as he will be like a circling vulture just waiting for me to put it down.

One of my lovely co-workers offered a (I think!) tongue-in-cheek grumble about me organising children's holiday programmes, then buggering off and not overseeing them. I couldn't resist reminding her that my job title was "Children's & YA Programme CO-ORDINATOR".... not "co-ordinator AND implementer". She muttered something about me being a smarmy pedant.

Roll on the weekend. 3 days to go!

Jobs I would hate to do - part 1

The parking warden for our Council came over sometime last week and joined the smokers outside for morning tea. She informed us that she had handed in her resignation, saying that "four years of bullshit" was quite enough for her and she was off for a nice, quiet career at Pak n Save. She regaled us with tales of being stalked, threatened, spat on and abused by members of the public incensed with being issued an infringement notice.

So lo and behold, imagine our dismay at being told yesterday that she was off work for a few days after being set upon by two women for giving them a ticket. Said women had been apprehended, arrested and charged with assault.

Although I am guilty for muttering "bitch" under my breath on a couple of occasions - when I hadn't managed to outwit her with my sneaky 'change car parks every 2 hours' trick - I was more brassed off at getting caught than I was with getting the actual ticket. So the moralist in me was quite angry at the NERVE of these people, abusing someone for doing their job when it was THEY who were in the wrong in the first place!

I wouldn't have the temperament for her job - I would have half of my day taken up with tickings off from higher-ups for yelling obscenities back at the public if they chose to question my parking authority (muahaha!).

So maybe it's a good thing that today's children probably know more swear-words than me.

Today is a good day.

Salary review time... I just got a 3.5k payrise.

Why can't they roll around more than once a year??