Armistice Memorial

You may remember from my Easter post about a high country station known as Mesopotamia. This is the land I grew up on, and where I took my friend Megs for a holiday. This November I returned again to my roots, but this time I was on duty.

I had been invited by the secretary of the Geraldine Returned Services Association to attend the Remembrance Service they were holding at the memorial outside my old primary school.

Mesopotamia Primary School.
10 pupils at max
1x Classroom
1x Kitchen
Boys loo, Girls loo
Shed
Playground of about 18,000 acres

I had been invited because I would be able to represent both the services (as I am in the Air Force) and the most prominent family in the area (Prouting). The Prouting's are in the third generation of running Mesopotamia. This may not seem like a lot to Ye Olde Brits over there on the top of the world, but it is pretty significant for bright and shiny new little New Zealand. My father was on the committee which was formed to research the names to be put on the commemoration stone. Though there are plenty of men who had worked on the station at some point in their lives who fell in the Great War, the committee decided it would be a never-ending task to find them all, and some would always be missed. So they opted to place the names of the men who left the station directly to join up.

Commemoration Stone
Remains of Samuel Butler's Dairy

Frank Boucher, Joe Jobberns, Alex MacRae, Snowy Dalton, Jack MacRae and John McNeil.

The men above all worked together. Jack MacRae was the manager of Mesopotamia, Frank Boucher was the head shepherd. The rest were the other shepherds - or musterers, as they were known. There were eight men in the gang who left to serve. Only two came home.

I went up the day before to take the above photos (without the threat of people getting in the way) and discovered my cousin Sue tidying up the school grounds. In the truck was her daughter Pieta - keeping out of trouble.

Pietey, looking all-too-innocent...

Sunday I managed to turn up five minutes before the bus. They had about an hour's journey from Geraldine up the valley on the winding, dusty, gravel road. Before the service began I met and talked with the men of the RSA who I had already been in contact with. It was nice to put faces to names.

Meeting the President, the Secretary and the Researcher...

Reading "The Gospel According to St John, Chapter 15 Verses 7 to 13 (I think)

Giving my speech. Oh No! There is a cave in my tie. Unprofessional. I blame the lack of mirrors on a farm.

My Dad giving his speech. I think he made his up on the spot.

Famous NZ artist Austin Deans, Mayor of Timaru Jannie Annear, President Geraldine RSA Robert Wood, Vicar, Me, Thom Pike (also of G.RSA)

My Mum (left) and her sister Sue (right). That's the wreath in the middle, leaning on the stone

And below is the best picture of all. This is my Mum. She is also Ju's Mum. She is one of the loveliest people in the world, but she hates having her photo taken. I think she and Lorenzo would love having a couple of gins together.
Mum is wearing her father's medals from WWII, we don't have his father's medals from WWI.
Isn't she just gorgeous?

CASSATA

Today I made Cassata, because tonight I am going out to a friend's for dinner.

The friend is Emma, my ex-flatmate, and she was going to cook some food for another friend named Anke. Anke's Mutti is German. Anyway, Anke is living in barracks, which means she eats at the mess or she eats out so the offer of a home cooked meal was too good to resist.

Being a social butterfly, Emma didn't want to have dinner for two, and I was the next person to be invited. I was pencilled in for a movie/dinner/drinks with another friend on the weekend, so we arranged for the meal to be on Sunday night. I had caught the sight of a lovely looking dessert in my illustrated copy of the Edmond's Cookbook and thought this would be the perfect opportunity to try it out. "I'll bring dessert" I stated proudly.

The next time I saw Emma, I learned our good friend Macchi and her husband Mike were coming too, and they were bringing the cheese board. Emma was in more of a dilemma now - Macchi is pregnant and Emma had to ask lots of questions to find out what foods Macchi will eat. During the course of the day I discovered that Anke (who is supposed to be bringing the DVD's) hadn't replied to Emma's text messages. It will be a surprise to find out tonight if Anke will make it after all. By the way, I don't care what Macchi can eat. She'll either eat it or not. Tough luck if not.

Anyway, I started out by tidying the bench and putting all the ingredients across the front in the order that I would need them, wiping the bench perfectly clean and having a neat stack of implements nearby.



Then I took a litre of chocolate ice cream and mixed it up with half a teaspoon of vanilla essence before smoothing it out to line the bowl. It was still pretty soft so I put it in the freezer and made a mental note to try again when it was a little bit firmer.



Next I had to turn 300ml of runny cream into stiff whipped cream. I don't have a whip, or an egg beater so I decided to pour half out of the bottle and shake it like a Polaroid picture,then repeat the process with the second half. After a while I realised that dancing round the lounge to Bowie's Jean Genie was not conducive to detecting when the cream was suitably stiff in time, and I discovered I had made - not whipped cream - but butter. Mmmm.
It was off to the dairy and $2 later I had 300 more millilitres of cream. This time Bowie was paused and I listened carefully to make sure I didn't over do it. And this time I was successful. Bowie was permitted to move on to his next song - Sorrow.

Now it was time to chop! up 1/2 cup of dark chocolate, 1/2 cup of toasted almonds (replaced with silvered almonds) and 1 cup of glace fruit. Well no one likes plastic cherries, so I replaced that cup with half a cup of white macadamia chocolate, and half a cup of walnuts.


Then these all were folded into the cream - along with 2 Tablespoons of icing sugar. About this point I realised that while this batch of cream was not butter, it probably was a little too mixed. Never mind - it can't be helped now!



Now I take the ice cream out of the freezer, touch up the shape, and put the cream into the hollow. Yum. Edmond's said I should cover with foil and freeze again, but there is no foil left in the house because my flatmates did not buy any on the last shop. My fault for not going I suppose. Anyway, I just put it in the freezer without the foil. What're they gonna do, huh?



And this is what it is supposed to look like! But I won't find out how good mine is, or if it tastes nice until tonight. Maybe - if you're lucky - I'll let you know!

Breakfast at The Brigham, with Jim

I have been intending to post this all week, but I lost my camera for a while. I wasn't worried as I knew it would turn up. And it did. Between the door and the seat in my car. Lucky it didn't fall out!

Last weekend my brother (nickname Jim) came up to Auckland to visit. He was flown in on Friday night and I drove him to Hamilton to meet up with another friend on Sunday. Saturday morning we went out for breakfast.

Now, as much as I love my brother (and I do, very much) this post isn't about his stay. This is mostly because he's not the sort of bloke to have a blog written about him. He's talented, but modest. He's a friendly guy, but this weekend a bit quiet - mostly because staying with me means he has time to relax and not do anything. I get the impression this is rare for Jim. So although Jim is my main character in this post, today I am writing about The Brigham.

The Brigham is a little eatery which used to be known as Serendipity and is nestled away behind some hedges and trees from a busy-ish, rural-ish road. Brigham Creek Road is the 'main drag' driven by most of my work mates as they make their way from Married Quarters in Hobsonville, to the operational Air Force base at Whenuapai. All the same, if you didn't slow down to have a gander at the sign - you wouldn't know The Brigham was there.

It is a quiet little place, possibly once a house, and the gardens are lovely. They hold weddings there. When it was Serendipity, it was one of the best places to go to for an all-day breakfast. The pancakes Jim ordered were a special for the day, now that the place is under different ownership. We sat out on the balcony in the sun and talked and ate at a leisurely pace.

Jim's pancakes with bacon, banana and maple syrup

Now, however, it caters more to midday-meals. I decided to compromise with my meal, and asked for the potato salad to be replaced with hash browns. Mmmmmm.

3 Chicken Kebabs with peanut sauce and potato salad.

I decided to respect Jim's privacy and did not even go so far as to ask to take his photo. Instead I copied the wonderful photographic talent of Merisi, and took a sneaky snapshot of his reflection in the window.


After the meal and some pleasant chatter, we made our way off the balcony and went for a wander through the gardens. But not all the way - it was a wild and untamed wilderness out there and we didn't want to get lost.

Entry to the wilderness

Keeping each other in sight...

Dangerous Swampland

Although there were sections where the garden and grounds catered to different tastes, there never seemed to be a solid border delineating one part of the grounds from another. Through the arch was a path to trees and grass, a dove cote, and plenty of dappled sunlight to wander or picnic within. Or directly outside the 'house' was a little cobbled courtyard with neat little rows of resine chairs and a lectern, waiting for a best man to come along sometime and give his speech. Down the side were rather dainty little citrus bushes. And between the two was the above water feature, which ended at the main grounds. Patrons could opt to eat here and alone, rather than with the others back on the balcony or inside.



We stood at the end of the water feature, and looked out into the lawns and trees, and Jim spotted a dotard*, a lone Pukeko amongst the ducks.

View from the above picnic table

We turned then, and made our way along the arduous jungle track towards the tiny shack, and I couldn't possibly resist taking a photo of that too.



And lastly, just before we went inside to pay our bill and leave forever, I caught side of a meticulously manicured piece of garden, which was within view of more outdoor eating spots.

Beyond - into the real unknown. Notice the top of the tree-fern in the mid ground, it is in a gully!!!

* FOOTNOTE: Word Imps may recognise the term dotard from the Imperfect lineup in September. It was my first entry, which happened to be my first winning entry too! For my definition you'll have to go here.

Captain James Feeds the Boys

I asked in my last post a tricky question and there were a couple of interesting answers. How did Captain Cook get his sailors to want to eat the sauerkraut he supplied for their health?

Lorenzo the Llama thought the cabbage would have to be soaked in rum;

Maalie thought the ships surgeon explained in graphic detail the effects of not eating the vitamin laden vegetable;


And Merisi suggested sauerkraut was delicious enough for anyone to clamour for a plate-full

Sorry Merisi, but the majority of sailors of the time didn't think eating sauerkraut was their idea of a good time. Captain James Cook did though.

He was pretty well known in nautical circles for coming home from months and months at sea without losing a single crew-member to scurvy. Quite a feat when you consider the food with all the vitamins (fruit) is the food that goes off and is therefore not worth carrying on a ship as you sail the seven seas.

(HM Bark Endeavour)

Sauerkraut was the answer - preserved with all its natural goodness (if not delectable flavour) it would keep his men healthy and fit for duty.

But is telling the crew enough? We tell people every day that cigarettes are bad for your health, and yet people still smoke. New Zealand puts a lot of money into advertising 5+ a Day as the best way to keep healthy (at least 5 servings of fruit and veg a day). Yet still people don't. I know I don't, and that's probably why I have a head cold right now. Weak.
And on the subject of rum? A good solution and probably one I'd try, but lets be honest - the crew would mutiny as soon as they found out you'd been puring their precious rations all over sour cabbage!


Now after all this hype I bet you are thinking "The real answer had better be good! or we'll mutiny!"
Well I think the answer is a good one. It's not spectacular, and it's not frightening or violent or wicked. But it is incredibly intelligent and I think it says a great deal about Captain Cook and how well he knew human nature.

To get his sailors to want to eat sauerkraut, he first restricted it to the officers mess.

Nothing else could have made it quite so popular, don't you think?

Careless Backyard

In an effort to compete with Simon's beautiful garden, I have.... um... well I have no garden at all actually. But out the back of the section I live on there is an interesting little wilderness full of flora and fauna which is both native and introduced. But at the moment the most beautiful dispays are the koru unfurling from the tops of the tree-ferns.

It is raining today which is common for Auckland. There is no wind so the water falls straight down in no-nonesense drops which I am sure the ferns love.

The house is split-level & semi-detached and behind the back fence the land drops away quite sharply. Plumpy of course loves to go exploring in there but Maalie will be pleased to know he has never brought back a bird. I would love to stroke his ego and say it is because he is too wise to bring them to me, but in all my brutal honesty I would have to say it is probably because he can't catch anything. The sudden lack of all four eye teeth probably doesn't help.

See the difference in height between the top of the fern in the foreground, and the top of the fern just behind the fence. I am suspicious though that the lower one is also shorter ;-)
The next photo is just to the other side of our main foreground fern;

Good Golly Miss Molly!
Check out the koru in that one!!

The next door neighbours (who live in the other half of the building) don't bother with a back fence, which I think is a grand idea. Their lawn stops, and the wilderness begins!

The neighbours have used a convenient Cabbage Tree (Cordyline australis) to help with the washing - which is getting wetter, not drier. Captain Cook made his crew eat the flowers of this plant to prevent them from getting scurvy. Hopefully Kiwi Nomad will not correct me and say it was rickets he was preventing....

I should like to invite Merisi to click and enlarge this last picture (and anyone else who cares to). Merisi displayed an interest in Simon's fern - though his had a lorikeet as well, and my birds are hiding from the rain! Look at the abundance of koru (fiddleheads)!

Lastly a quiz, which I expect Maalie to be able to answer. (No pressure Maalie). Captain James Cook of HMB Endeavour chose to fight off scurvey by feeding his crew sauerkraut. How did he manage to popularise this dish amongst the sailors?

Pirate Speak

Avast!
September the 19th be International Talk Like a Pirate Day! I know a salty sea llama be livin it up on her fine sailin ship - lootin a-pillagin an' a-plunderin on the fair ocean. We be hopin that saucy wench be havin a fine time an be stealin plenty a-booty, and not makin her way to the bottom of Davy Jones' Locker!

I be puttin up this lesson, so ye be talkin' like a sea dog yerself!

Yo Ho!




All the best me harties.
Aarrrrrrr!

Things unInteresting

Tonight for some reason I had an inexplicable desire to share with you all the sorry state of my refrigerator. Now to be fair, the fridge doesn't actually belong to me. It was here when I moved into the flat. In order to protect my flatmates at least a little bit I am renaming them the uni-sexual pseudonyms Chris and Sam.

But first, here is an overview of my fridge.





When I had a little party here in this flat (I called it my flat warming, any excuse!) a couple of my friends from hockey came by. One in particular was astounded at the size of my cat, Plumpy (check out his blog here) and couldn't get over not just how big he was, but also how ummmm... engorged he appeared around the belly. So the next week at practice she brought in a news paper clipping and told the entire team my cat made it into the local rag. After passing it around the team (who all judged me for over-feeding my cat) she handed the paper to me and said it would pay to take the article home and give it some serious thought. Though I was offended she lied to the team about my cat (who was NOT the one featured in the photo) and though I was insulted she thought I should 'ease up' on the amount of food he was given, I did place the clipping in pride of place underneath all the other junk on the fridge.

Lets take a closer look at the healthy selection of food stored not a moment longer than its use-by date, shall we?

Here is the upper few shelves. See how the very top shelf is not used at all. This is because it has an extra door to lift, which is FAAAAAR to hard to get into. The juice on the next shelf looks fairly innocent, but I've seen it moving about the fridge from shelf to shelf over the last few months. I think it gets shifted when it's in the way. No one wants to drink it because it's old, and no one wants to throw it out in case it belongs to someone else.
The dip was my mistake, I made it but didn't have enough chips to finish it with. I put it in the fridge for safe keeping. It's probably the safest place in the house - no one will touch it. It's been there a week now and there's oil lifting to the surface. I don't want to talk about the potato dish that Sam made and refuses to finish.

Now I put the raw meat in for dramatic effect. It's actually dinner tomorrow night. I have hockey practice so need something quick and easy for tea. Pre-crumbed schnitzel it is! So you may rest assured I do not have 'off' meat in the fridge.

The bottom shelves are my pet hate. When we buy fruit and veges from the supermarket (even though they are better and cheaper at the fruit shop down the road, they are put into plastic bags which aren't even designed to allow the food to breath. There is a different supermarket a little further away which provides brown paper bags for my mushrooms, but that's not the supermarket we go to! No one, not even me, bothers to remove the veges from the bags before putting them in the crisper bin. Sort of defeats the purpose doesn't it?

At the moment there is tonight's mince (it will be lasagne soon MMMMMmmmmm) hanging around not so far away from Sam's emergency dinner. Again Sam has let me down not only by failing to finish a meal, but also storing it away in the fridge for further personal growth.

Last, and pretty much least, is the door. Mostly I include this because it is a little sad how empty it is. It isn't filled up with sauces and juices and exciting additions to one's evening meal. In fact, it doesn't even fit a standard 1.5L soft drink bottle! Sam's fantas, Chris's Coke and my Pepsi have to lie down on the shelves. But I can't drink cold beverages very well so mine lives in the pantry anyway! Oh for small mercies har har har! There is a little jar of crushed garlic in there now though. I added it today.

I tell you, Chris has to have his eggs. Not that they get eaten! But who knows, with the top layer coming up to their 'use-by' date, they might be about ready for use in a nice pavlova. (A Kiwi invention Simon, not Australian!!!)

It hasn't been a particularly pleasant post, I know. It was probably boring too. But I it has certainly produced at least one positive result. With the absence of both my flatmates (they are in the UK) I have now cleaned out the fridge! It is fresh, wholesome and healthy. Finally!

Hootchy Kootchy Honeys

I know I have left my blog to die as quietly and as depressingly as the last embers of a fire are turned to filthy slush under the building weight of oncoming rain. But to be honest, that is how I have been feeling myself a little.

Perhaps it is anaemia, but I think it is just the daily rut of routine which has drained away the last of my imagination. I am used to this. Sometimes I will go through a stage where for several months I am up until the wee hours of the morning, tapping away at the computer. These are the moments I cannot stop for the story flows into and through my mind almost faster than I can commit it to record. At the moment I have 5 different stories saved onto this computer. I have probably about 3 on an old hard drive from my desk top which I think I will never be able to access again and countless more on paper written at work when there is nothing else to do, or school when there is nothing else to do, or when there is an important exam to study for and I'd really rather not. One of these stories some of you may have read earlier on this blog. Another (my favourite) is saved into four different files in Microsoft Word, each consisting of about 70-75 pages in justified, hyphenated text.
But sometimes, like now, I go through stages where I feel like I have come out of the swimming pool after swimming laps for hours. Drained. Washed out. Unrefreshed. Times like these I like to read everyone else's blog. I have forced myself to comment because though I have things to say, I can't be bothered loading the comments pages.

I complained about it at work;

TOOLS: How have you been Sez?
SEZ: Alright. Do you really want to know or are you just starting conversation?
TOOLS: Go on then.
SEZ: I'm sick of it. Sick of the same days, the same faults. I don't do anything in the weekends. I'm even over hockey - it's long past time the season should have ended.
TOOLS: Well I might be going surfing this weekend. Do you want to come?
SEZ: Do I have to surf?

Tools laughs at Sez and takes another drag on his cigarette.

TOOLS: No, but it could be good to get out to the beach, get some sea air. It's a bit of a drive out there too, always good.

Sez shrugs at Tools
Entrance Sergeant

SERGEANT: Have you finished those functionals on zero-five?
SEZ: Nah, just having a cuppa. Should be finished by lunch though.
TOOLS: Yeah, I better get back to my faults too.

Tools stubs out cigarette and places in ash-tray. Exit Tools
Sez drains last of drink.
Exeunt.

But the surf-trip never happened. (I was paraphrasing, by the way) Instead, something better happened. My friend texted me. She asked if I was interested in joining her at The Classic on Saturday night to go see Hootchy Kootchy Girls Burlesque Show, $25? Well now - after all my bitching I could hardly turn her down - could I?

So to see New Zealand's up and coming Burlesque Dancers, I was about to go.

Hootchy Kootchy Girls

Burlesque is making a come-back!

There weren't many of us in the little theatre, but we had lots of fun!

The show actually started before we made it from drinks in the foyer to the main stage area. We were drinking our wine/juice/bourbon and happily minding our own business before the show. There were five of us and we were watching the two girls at the door. One appeared to be selling posters and the other candy. Hmmm. As the room became more crowded we noticed another lady who appeared different to the rest. She was in a trench coat and a pinstriped Dick Tracey hat. She had a large camera and was taking photos of everyone. Finally she came to our dark little corner.
"And 'oo do we 'av 'ere??" She asks in a heavy but well-executed French accent. "Four, non, Five people 'oo are 'ere to see the Hootchy Kootchy girls!! Canaoui 'av a photo of you all togtheur?"
I laughed to myself that we, five individuals, allowed ourselves to be directed into place by a woman we had never met for a photo we would never see. Human nature never ceases to amaze!

Finally the show was on! We moved into the main room and were politely informed that cameras were not allowed. But Peachy la Rue, their photographer would take many photos on the night, and we could leave our emails addresses with Miss Print in the Foyer so that we may be informed later how to view the photos she took on line. Miss Print was also selling posters.

Throughout the night we were entertained with corny jokes, hilarious 'dance offs,' sexy dancing, good fun and even a reverse strip. It was a great evening and during the break one of my party and I managed to drag Peachy la Rue out into the foyer to take photos of him (the friend) and a Kiwi Comedian (there to enjoy the show). This was because my friend is always told he looks like this comedian and he wanted photographic proof they looked nothing alike. Peachy was more than happy to oblige, but declared they did look the same.

I bought a poster, and for the same price as a plain one ($20) I could get one signed by the girls. Peachy (of course), Coco Martini, Pacific Passion, Crystal Night-Light, Judy Garment, The Hootchy Kootchy Queen (their director) and Tony (the MC).

We bugged Peachy, Judy and the Queen during intermission for personal autographs to accompany the show-names. After the show we bugged the rest of the performers.
Coco Martini was astounded to hear we had managed to get the personal autograph of Peachy. She told us the woman almost NEVER broke out of character. (We gleefully informed her we had actually heard her speak (for only a few moments) in a Kiwi accent.) CM laughed and said for the first two months of their acquaintance she had believed Peachy was genuinely French.

Hockey

The next day was a very important hockey game. Although I am getting pretty sick of the season we have been playing better and better these last four games or so. And this was no exception. Before the weekend the tables had been:
Howick-Pakauranga = 39 points
Sommerville Blue = 32 points
Western Districts = 31

We are Western Districts, and we needed to win this game to beat Sommerville and play the Howick Pack in the final. As always, we played like champions (because we are!) and won the game 3-1
It's the finals this weekend. The points are now out the window. If we win on Sunday we take out the whole competition. It's getting big! I am very excited again!

There's always more...

AND!!! I have a farewell party to go to this Saturday, an old friend contacted me and we'll go out for some food and a movie next week. My sister - YES, JU! - and I spoke over the internet, web cameras and all for the first time ever. It was the first time I've seen her happy smiling face in over a year! (Ju is in the UK and I am here in Kiwi Land.)
Also... Peachy pulled us aside as we were leaving The Classic and invited us to another party later on in the year! It could be because we hassled her and her friends all night, or it could be because one of us (the one who looks like a well-known NZ comedian) happened to be sitting at a table with friends of the organisers. It's who you know!!!