It's Best To Be Prepared

Imagine....

Some intelligent people have realised that New Zealand is a possible platform for the takeover of Australia. (It might happen, no one scorned John Marsden for his 'Tomorrow' series!). In order to take over the country, terrorists have infiltrated the Beehive (Parliament Buildings) and are holding hostages. The SAS are busy saving the rest of the world, the armed defenders are at a sports tournament in Christchurch and the rest of New Zealand's answer to counter terrorism has come down with a malicious case of dystentry.
But all is not lost.

All over the country there are groups of civilians who are ready to step up to the mark, people who have practiced their tactical assult methods and are ready to move in as a cohesive group to save the day...

Okay, so I'm taking the piss, but be warned - this post is about die-hard fans of tactical war games. Incidentally some of them are my friends and I was given the oportunity to see for myself what they get up to 'of an evening.' I was asked by one of these friends to come along to a particular night in order to take photos as a 'non combatant.' (perhaps, a foreign correspondant - a war journalist?)
My friend's boss and workmates had shown a lot of interest in this RAM (Random Action Marker) and he had offered to take them through their paces for a night. They dutifully turned up to learn how to handle the weapons and go through some basic tactics. I arrived a while later after having hitched a ride with the rest of the group (also good mates of mine), who were to comprise the 'enemy party.'

To explain what I'm talking about here;
Think of paint ball. You know what paint ball is? A whole lot of work colleagues go to a field or forest, get dressed in overalls, pick up ungainly looking pneumatic plastic shooter thingys with a huge canister (hopper?) attached at the top for some big looking balls of paint. Then they run around the paddock trying to steal flags screaming things like "You go, I'll cover you!" And generally feeling very militant and something like the guys from Platoon.

To translate this to RAM. Take away the paintball guns and replace them with replicas, realistic replicas, of military weapons, replace the big balls of paint with small and speedy little rounds of paint encircled with a ring of metal for loading into a magazine (Which also go 'tink tink tink' as they are ejected out and fall to the floor - rather like spent brass rounds...). Take away the overalls and replace them with DPM - destructive pattern material (Camo) - sets of clothes, webbing and holsters. Take away the rectangular field designed to race from one end to another and replace it with an empty, two storey building late at night. Lastly, remove the 'capture the flag' scenario and put in place an 'enemy party' complete with hostage trying to hold their position while the good guys have to find them, eliminate them, rescure the hostage and get him/her back to HQ safely. Oh! And gung-ho shouts of martyrdom are left at the wayside. Genuine calls of "contact front!" "This room clear!" and "HIT!" are the order of the night. Please see an example of a typical player of RAM, detailed below.

The scenario was fairly simple. The team had to enter the building and find the terrorists, 'kill' them all without shooting the hostage and extract the hostage back to their HQ (the room they started in) without letting him get shot. In order to do this they had to make their way through some corridors, up the stairs, through more corridors with rooms to the side which might hold the enemy, to more rooms and back again.

Please bear in mind - it was eight o'clock at night, coming into winter - it was DARK in there! People had to switch on torches attached to the ends of the barrels of their weapons just to clear the nooks and crannies. I couldn't aim the camera - the digital screen at the back was blank, and the strength of the flash was not only amazing, but destroys any idea of how hard it was to see. I was stumbling up the stairs!

In the picture above, the team has made it up the stairs and through the maze of rooms to this large area. They know the terrorists are in the next room. If someone gets 'hit' they must walk five metres behind the last person in the group and come back before they may re-enter the game. Because these folk are new to the game they have been given this option of 'respawn' to help them out. In the next game which was played by the sportsmen themselves, there were no respawns, and some where 'out' after only five minutes in the game!

I like the next three photos a lot, because they are almost as good as the video would have been. It was really hard for me to get these shots. As I mentioned I couldn't aim the camera, not with the view finder, and not with the digital screen. Both only showed me shadow. The hostage is in the white shirt. As I stand at the top of the stairs, the team makes their way down, taking the hostage with them when MORE terrorists (who have snuck into the building behind them) open fire - directly up the stairs!

Arrgh!

Contact! Contact front!
Back up! Back up! Protect the hostage!

The team covers the hostage while their 'coach' opens fire (guns blazing?) on the hostiles

Finally there was a lull in gunfire and the team has a little time to collect their thoughts and their men as their coach encourages them and coaches them through their next moves. Fortunately a couple of more experienced members of the team snuck down the opposing stairwell and took out a couple of the terrorists. Now the workmates regroup. These two below are about to follow the hostage and the rest of the escort down the bottom of the stairs. They're a little more alert now!

Grrr!


A lurker (my term) at the bottom of the stairs

Finally, after a little more stress and shots fired, the team managed to get the hostage back to their own room. Their coach would not let up on them though - they had to clear that room too in case their were more enemies camped out there! The hostage had been hit - orange paint on his white shirt told the truth - but in the spirit of good fun and a fair go for first timers, it was declared a mere flesh wound.

In victory did they celebrate with the letting off of many rounds and the emptying of magazines into the walls and floors so that no others may come to harm from their weapons of local destruction.

I wish I had pictures of some of the bruises. Not from this game, which was relatively calm and controlled. I saw some terrible results from the next game. The work-friends had gone home satisfied, and my friends the regulars took on a team from a different club. These folk ran off different rules, and I understand they had bored out some of their weapons to make them go faster. I don't know how that works so don't ask. There were blood blisters and some very angry spots of grazed and broken skin, ringed by deep purple and angry red. I'm glad I don't play the game - I am happy enough with hockey.

It was certainly interesting and though I give my mates a bit of stick for their odd choice of recreation you have to give them credit - they work very hard at doing things properly, and have a pretty rigid concept of honour when it comes to calling out that they've been hit. So that was my introduction to RAM. I just have to resist the temptation of trying to join in!








Incidentally, has anyone noticed that it's been many years now since the Chernobyl Disaster and there are still no superheroes?

I Think I Need New Armour

Ball came from this angle
Hit at approx this point

Bruise made through protection
(Half day later)

A Quick Update

My apologies for my recent silence. I would say I have been super-busy, but to be honest I just haven't had the inclination. My activities over the last couple of weeks don't seem to warrant comment - let alone a full post.

But last weekend I went to Auckland's Aquarium - Kelly Tarlton's Underwater World - to have a look at the fish. Though the smell was not particularly pleasant it was not overpowering either and there was plenty to see which kept a person both distracted and fascinated. The best part of the place was the tunnel under the water. For the first section we got to watch a variety of small sharks, the sleekest of all being the notoriously aggressive mako. It was interesting looking at the difference between the breeds - they were all roughly the same size with different dorsals, tails, gill-fins and nose/mouths. I was most fasinated by the rays however. Kelly Tarlton's had several short-tailed sting rays and a couple of eagle rays. A short-tailed ray can weigh up to 200kg for only being 2 or 3 metres in length, though they can grow up to 4.3 metres in length. Seeing them in the tunnel was cool as one of them was very active, swimming up and down the tank and scratching his (her?) belly on the top of the tunnel. We got so many clear views of the ray's mouth and gills which are all on the white underside of the ray, and one of them even had brown-ish speckles on their underbelly, so even a fish can be a ginge!!!

There were plenty of other sights to see - puffer fish, angel fish, sea horses, moray eels and the hugest snapper I have seen. One of the moray eels was quite curious about us and followed us for a way along the tunnel. Though the skin is red-brown and looks very dry, the eyes were a bright blue and looked much more intelligent than your average cold-hearted fish! We watched an octopus squeeze his entire body into a film canister in order to get the fish inside and saw crays so massive Sarge almost cried.
Maalie - birds were not left out. Kelly Tarlton's has an antarctic section with two varieties of penguin - King and Gentoo.
Though we missed the feeding time for the penguins we were allowed to jump in a little 'snow mobile' and take a tour round the outside of their enclosure. They were a lot bigger than I had expected, but very very cool.

King Penguin

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The week so far has included for me two hockey practices. I am in a quandry at the moment, as the team I played for last year has gone up a grade from Champ 2 Women to Camp 1 Women. This is wonderful as nearly all the girls in the team deserve to play in the next grade up and it's nice to see they have the oportunity. The old Champ 1 team had mostly gone up a grade too, into a new grade which has just been created this year. Above the senior grade are the premier grades. Last year there were two - Prem 1 and Prem 2. Now there is Prem 3.
Here's the problem. The team created for the new grade (mostly the old Champ 1 team) doesn't have a Goal Keeper as the regular has taken time off for her new baby. So both the new Champ 1 team (my old team) and the new Prem 3 team want me to play with them. I have the choice of jumping up one grade from last year or one and a half grades. I have been making a list in my head of the pros and cons of each and I still don't know what I want to do! Champ 1 is still a step up and will be a challenge, all my friends are in the team, the practice times are better but playing day is worse. It's cheaper. (Though still expensive.)
Prem 3 has a coach who knows what to do with a GK, worse practice times but I'll play on Saturdays, costs more - but their old GK is happy to start playing again as soon as I go to Texas which I am doing for work in the middle of the year.
The dilema!

So at the moment I am attending both practice sessions which is interesting as I am pretty exhausted by the second one. All my muscles for spending an hour bouncing on my toes and holding my hands out at right angles are SCREAMING at me and my gear is still waterlogged from the rain!

Haha - it's good to be back!
This Saturday we have 'club day' where every team in my club (Western Districts) will play their equivalent from a different association. Western is a part of the Auckland Hockey assoc. and we're playing a club from the North Shore assoc. To help me make my desicion I'm playing for both the Champ 1 and Prem 3 teams - one after the other!!! I'll try to get someone to take photos for me and post them up, when I recover!!!

Names

I am fascinated by names and their meanings - most especially, surnames. I was told once that the suffix "-ing" means "people of." (possibly Saxon...anyone?)
As Mac- is Scot for 'son of,' and O'- is Irish for the same, so too is '-s' in dutch.
Smith, Weaver, Taylor, Miller are pretty straight forward, and I heard of an English name 'Sykes' because the family came from an area where there were rather a lot of them in the fields.

My name is Prouting, and since my origin is English, does that mean I am decended from the 'People of Prout?' The surname on my mother's side is Hamlin. This is easier - the Hamlins came from a place in England known as Ham Hill - famous (??) for its Ham Stone. So doesn't that mean '-lin' is the tag meaning "people of?"

To go further, my mother belongs to the Scotish Clan of Robertson. Why are they anglicised to Robert-son, when my friend remains Gaelic with Mac-Donald?

I had a friend at school whose last name is Risk. She told me that after a lot of research her family discovered they had not always been "Risks" but after a terrible voyage (probably to New Zealand or America) they were trying to cross a river. Half the family said "screw that, I choose life," and the other half said "well risk it." (pls note my extensive use of poetic liscence.) Lo! and behold the family members who made it to the other side thenceforth became known as the Risks.

Again on my mother's side there is the German name - Nieman. I was telling Mum (after a few German lessons at school) that when an 'i' and an 'e' are placed together in a german word, the second vowel is sounded. For example, german for four - vier - is pronounced 'fear.' The 'e' is second, the 'e' is sounded. But with the number two - zwei - the vowel sound is quite clearly and 'i' as in sky. ;-)
Therefore (after all that) the name is pronounced Nee-man. After this lecture Mum looked at me and smiled a little before explaining that the family changed their original spelling, from Neiman to Nieman, to make it look less German during the war. So that was the end of that!

Where does your name come from?

New Plymouth Wedding

This weekend I was in New Plymouth at the bottom-ish west of the North Island. My friends Nick and Conna were getting married! The weather was hot hot hot, and the venue absoloutely gorgeous!

Okurukuru Vinyard is just outside of New Plymouth and overlooks the Tasman Sea. The building, vines and grounds were picture perfect for such a special day.

Standing on the balcony of Okurukuru looking out over the ocean,
and down on to the wedding spot.

The wedding was scheduled to take place at five o'clock and Nick and Conna had the rare treat of spending almost the whole day together as they gadded about the countryside having their photos taken. As time rolled slowly by, and the waiting guests realised five of the clock had been and gone many minutes ago, from out of nowhere a helicopter, thundered into view and spun about above us. To the sound of the soundtrack to Mission Impossible, the groom and his men came out of the chopper and down to the guests. There they mingled and chatted as the helicopter left to pick up the girls.

They too made a grand entrance, though we weren't allowed to see them exiting the chopper, we watched from below as they made their way along the balcony above and behind us, then round the end of the building and down the stairs. At the bottom Nick moved forward and shook Conna's father's hand, kissed her mother, and collected his bride-to-be. Conna was radiant.
Nick collects Conna from her parents

Together the couple moved to the centre spot where they said beautiful vows and celebrated with some very lovely poetry recited on their behalf. Then the young children were encouraged to come forward and between the couple and the younglings, butterflies were released to float away with wishes and prayers. It was very beautiful and I am sorry I couldn't manage to capture it on film.

Inside the venue for speeches and dinner was unfortunately very hot. I was unfortunately unaccompanied (someone couldn't make it...) so Conna and one of her bridesmaids (another good friend of mine, Megsie) planted me at the end of the table with two larikins - Andrew and Andrew. We weren't sure if they were there to entertain me, or I was there to keep them in check! But they were certainly great entertainment, and Conna's brother Andrew practiced some very gentlemanly charm!

Too bad about the sun!
The picture behind the high table was absolutely gogeous,
The four hangings around it showed quotes for
Love, Wisdom, Peace and Happiness

Later on in the evening we drifted outside for some fresh air, as it was quite stuffy inside!

Bridesmaid Megsie in black at the back, next to her husband and the best man, Rowan.
Conna sits at the table next to Megsie, and you can see the back of Nick's head across from her.
Surrounded by friends.

The first dance was lovely, and it was compulsory for all guests to join in! Nick and Conna looked wonderful and wonderfully happy as they moved together as though they had been dancing all their lives. Not bad for one-and-a-half lessons!!! Later on in the night, after the sun had gone down;

We were encouraged to gather out on the balcony for a surprise. What was it? Fireworks! Certainly a sparkling event for a sparkling day. We returned inside for more dancing, more wedding cake (chocolate), more wine or coffee as the mood took us :-)

As a rugby playing, beer drinking woman (who scrubbed up into a very stunning picture) Conna had a little difficulty with the throwing of the bouquet. In fact, she was so excited by the concept she threw it over and above us single chicks, and it landed at the feet of the flowergirl who was allowed to keep it. My parents will be most upset to hear she might get married before me!!!

It was a wonderful night, and the bbq the next day was also wonderful, though a lot more relaxed. I managed to sleep most of the 5 hour journey home.

Weekend Dive Trip (Scenery Shots)

Looking further East from the boat

Paning to my left, the boys are diving amongst the rocks at the front,
and the hill in the middle is a little island


Looking back to the bay we came from
Fletcher Bay is over the small green hill in the mid-ground

You can see the rocks underwater behind Sarge's head,
And the sand at the bottom just to the left of him

It was a crowded bay...

Weekend Dive Trip (DAY TWO)

Sunday dawned even sunnier than the preceeding day and the ocean was calm and still. We spent a lazy morning waiting for the tide and headed over the hill for a second time around ten thirty, eleven o'clock.
This time the tide was about to finish coming in and I could only see the top of the rocks we had been clambering over on Saturday. The boys dragged the tinny off the top of the ute and dragged it down to the water, yelping as they did so over the burning heat of the sand. I had decided that since Sarge had been so good as to babysit me the day before I wouldn't go for the second dive, leaving him to play about in the water as he chose. Thus being free I took some photos as they kitted up.

We motored out around the rocks we had used on Saturday and continued towards another set in deeper water. Shaz remained on solid land to go for a walk and collect interesting objects. Mostly rocks I think. (Intersting ones. Mum can testify I am telling the truth when I say I am not being sarcastic about that at all!)

Once the boys thought they had reached their favourite spot we dropped anchor and they got their gears on before dropping below the water. The sea was so clear, that even with several meters of depth we could easily see the bottom, it was so beautiful. I tried to take a picture of it, but although you could see the outlines of the rocks even in the photo, the sun glare was a little too much. Instead I spent my time lying in the boat listening to music, lying in the boat listening to the sea and birds, and looking about and taking photos. I saw an oyster catcher, which is new for me as we only have the pied variety at home, and there was a shag who was determined to pose when the camera was off and look away when I was ready to take his photo. Bearing in mind I was in a rocking boat, here are the pictures of them;

After about 40 minutes the boys came back, and boy did they have a catch!
Tommy displays the mother of all crays.
Except it was a boy, but boy was he a big one!

Sarge has no idea Tommy is about to put a cray on his head.



Proof that we put the little ones back.
This wee guy went back in the water before Sarge (who caught him) made it into the boat!

All in all it was a terrific day. We had hoped to get away from Fletcher Bay by twelve o'clock, but since they didn't start diving until about ten past, it was at least half two before we even started to clean the gear. But with such a haul of cray it was deifinitely worth it, and we all had a great time. I don't even remember the feeling ill part!

Weekend Dive Trip (DAY ONE)

Ju's Little Sister's Mum is going to have a heart attack at this one...
:-/

On the evening of Friday Feb 2 I jumped in the car with good friend 'Sarge' and we drove through the night (okay, two hours but it was the last two hours of the 2nd) to Hamilton City. If only it had been a weekday and we could have invaded Hamilton City Council Planning Department and tried to get a visual on this BillyBob fellow, bt alas it was not to be.
The next day was a Saturday and we were up early to collect a couple more friends and their boat to begin the trip back up north to the coromandel. Sarge and Tommy used to work in the same dive shop together and I understand they still get out in the water as often as they can, though I also have the suspicion that this is sadly not too often at all. Nevertheless, with the boat on the roof of Tommy's ute, the cat caught, caged and dropped off to the cat-sitter, and plenty of dive gear to see us through we made our way out of Hamilton and North.

It was a gorgeous day and looked like it would be great weather for diving in, and so it proved to be. I had not intended to write up this weekend and so I don't have phuoto's of the treacherous 'Port Jackson Rd' which winds its way only feet from cliffs and bush covered hills on one side and a sharp drop to the water on the other. It was very picturesque however and our quiet speed kept me feeling comfortable as a passenger.

Finally, after a few hours travel we made it to the camp ground and backpackers at Fletcher Bay.
Camping ground at Fletcher Bay

Backpackers at the top of the hill,
looks over camping ground and bay

It took only a few minutes to settle in and pick out our bunk beds before we were hauling dive gear out of the ute and setting it all up. Since I haven't been diving more than a few times and Sarge is an instructor he talked me through it while I yelled at him for babying me. Of course, after he obliged by walking off I had to call him back to help. It's just as well my pride is marginal at best ;-)

Setting up the gear

Once set up and happy again we all piled into the ute with the 12' tinny on top and drove through some farmland to get over to the next bay. I found out this was allowed because Tommy knows the owners of the farm which is always a bonus. Tommy's lady Shaz was pretty good on the gates too and as an ex-farm girl I was impressed. About ten minutes and four gates later we were into the next bay. Unlike Fletchers, this one was deserted.

You can see Fletcher Bay is at the very top of the peninsula, and the bay we went diving in is one more to the East.

Once down on the beach we got changed into our wetsuits and kitted up with all the gear. The tide was almost completely out and we walked along a stretch of rocks that led out into the water. When the tide is in, these rocks are amost completely covered, and the last time Sarge was diving in this bay, he was swimming amongst the very rocks we were labouring to reach the end of. I made the foolsish mistake of asking how much my gear weighed and was given the answer it was probably somewhere between 30 and 40 kilos. (66-88lbs) That's another 2-thirds my body weight I was carrying! I was in a double layer wetsuit which was still dry and working hard in the hot summer sun, and it was HOT work. But finally we made it to the end and got into the beautiful cool water in order to swim a little further still before going under.
I am a little bit paranoid about the water and drowing, so the first attempt at descending was a little bit of a mess, but after a couple of minutes on the surface to collect myself and we were off with a hiss and a roar!
We were only about 4m down at the lowest, but playing around in the rocks and kelp was lots of fun. Sarge forgot to bring his underwater camera so I don't have photos for you, but we broke up some kinna and fed it to the cod, who refused to be caught in Sarge's noose. After more wanderings we came to the sandy part of the bay floor and started in on our mission.
We were on this dive because MoF had asked Tommy and Sarge to bring them evidence (if they found it) of the Northern Pacific Sea Star. (I think that's what it's called and I'm sorry if I've got it wrong.) This is a Japanese starfish which has come south on boats and is already taking over the waters of Australia and we DON'T WANT IT HERE!
MoF know in their hearts that it is in New Zealand's waters, but they haven't been able to prove it and don't have the resources to go dicing to find it. Tommy and Sarge found some on their last dive, but since they didn't have them to show the ministry they were no good as proof. So the boys were back to help out by finding more of these star fish.
Tommy was off doing his thing on his own, hunting starfish and crays alike, and with Sarge going to the surface every now and again to check on him, we stuck together, scanning the sands for five-fingered depressions in the floor. We found a little bit of evidence, and I found the only starfish sitll in residence, but it was too young to tell if it was the invader or not, so we kept scanning and made our way home empty handed.
At one point Sarge stopped our progress to point out a strange purple lump wrapped about a coiled seashell. With my face mask on I couldn't wear my glasses so I was squinting furiously to try and make out what the creature was. Sarge gave him the tiniest nudge with the noose and the lump started on it's lumbering journey back to it's little home - a couple of rocks in a depression in the sand. Scattered all about it were more shells. When it was two-thirds the way back home it revealed itself by pushing out three tenticles - it was an octopus!!! The first real-live one I have ever seen! Now I know why Sarge was being so gentle, he didn't want it to come for him! Once back in its house Sarge picked the shell up with the noose and gave it back and with all the dignity of an offended gentleman the octy reached out without looking and drew the shell close. Then we made our casual and uneventful way back to shore.

Once we caught up with Tommy again he and Shaz decided they wanted to do a spot of fishing so we took the dinghy off the truck and helped them onto the water. We took the truck back to the backpackers and washed down the gear.

Dive gear all washed and drying

About this time I was feeling very ill, mostly in the stomach so I went for a lie-down while Sarge waited about until it was nearly six o'clock. Then he took the ute back to the beach to pick up Tommy, Shaz and the boat. I heard them arrive but didn't emerge from my bunk bed as I was still not one hundred percent. After a while I heard chatting and laughter and realised there were some more people up at the backpackers talking to my friends. I couldn't make out most of the conversation but it certainly sounded very jovial. Only later did I find out the truth!

The visiters we warden's who had been 'tipped off' about some poachers in the area. Poachers who had driven over the hill, through farmland with a boat on the truck, and had returned a couple of hours later without the boat. Then the boat was collected much later in the evening. UH OH!!! The warden's had the backpackers surrounded, one out the back and a couple at the front to catch the poachers with their goods. Hang on, I'm talking about my own friends here! Yes that's right, just as well there are some really on to it people in the camping ground, because it was obvious we were stealing paua! Ha! Whatever Trevor, we were innocent and what's more - we were there to help MoF out!!! Fortunately it was obvious we had no paua, and all the crays where within limits and we had not exceeded the daily limit either. What a pity I missed out on the action!

Soooooo belated....

Al of the TCA mentioned around Christmas time that it was a shame there were no photos on my blog of the Xbox LAN which my friends and I took part in (organised, really) just before Christmas. I have been bugging and bugging 'Sarge' to get ahold of the precious photos and now, finally, (after literally stealing them off his computer while he wasn't there) I have them to show you.
First, a refresher.

An Xbox is similar to a computer in that it can be connected to the internet, and to other xbox's and even (if you have the right software) a computer too. But they are specifically dedicated to games. There is a small group of us who get together every now and again in a garage and connect our 'boxes up to play against each other in both tactical and "shoot 'em up" games, but this LAN was a little different. For this we booked an old communications centre on the Air Force Base (where I work) and managed to get twelve plus people going hammer and tongs all night! Sarge and I organised a proper tournament to begin with - with prizes - and even held a prizegiving just before dinner. A big thanks to the people of Microsoft Xbox Australia who kindly sponsored us with drink bottles, t-shirts, lanyards and some limited edition magazines for prizes.

Below are some of the pics we took;

On the top you might be able to see how we laid desks out in a horse shoe, with the white projector screen at the open end. People were ranged on both sides of the desks (ie some facing in and some facing out). In the picture at the bottom you can see a row of eager young players. There isn't a game in process at the moment - we're all laughing over some of the events just played out. It's hard to describe, but at the end of a round, or a game, the stories are always told by the person who missed the chance, or who was unfortunately killed - we are always laughing at ourselves, and while we'll teasingly talk ourselves up before a game, there is no room for arrogant bragging afterwards, unless the victim started the story.
An example of sorts;
I say: "I had just found myself this perfect spot to line up GRIMUZ from across the building, I changed to sniper rifle and hit the zoom - only to see a full-scale rocket coming straight at me! I didn't even have time to move before I was blown to smithereens!"
TDevils says: "Yeah, yeah the funny part is I was about to assisinate you too and he got me as well!!"
GRIMUZ says: "Don't worry, Blade got me with a frag grenade about a second after I fired."

So you can imgine that round after round is just absoloute carnage! At the end of the round the program comes up with the stats, as shown here:

This is just the medals page of the 'post game carnage report' for the game Halo 2. Our usernames are on the left, total medals earned and then symbols of the variety of medals too. I am second from the bottom for this game, on the orange line - username: Alice. (Because I'm a bit like Alice in Wonderland). I won three 'beat down' medals, which means I was pretty good at fistycuffs. (or I ran out of ammunition a lot, but there's no need to tell the boys that!).

At the end of the Halo 2 tournament, we had a prize giving. Sarge (second from the top) tallied up results and called out the winners of each category and since I was the only girl I got to do the "promo girl" honours. (handing out the goods!) In the next picture I'm giving 'Blade' a drink bottle and a novelty dartboard to help improve his aim!!! Sarge looks on from the right.

After the prizegiving we had pizza for tea and a lot more jokes and laughs. We wandered about looking at people's prizes and went outside for a breather and a chat. This is another important part of the evening as it is important to rest your eyes and actually talk in normal conversations with the people you are hanging out with!! We don't let the LAN's get too big so that it is always with friends which guarantees we keep up the social aspect of the activity.

After dinner we connected on of the xboxes to the projector and played some very old school arcade games which have been adapted to play on these new consoles.

Sarge (left) and Warwulf play bomber man on the projector while TDevil (right) watches and waites for his turn. They were playing king of the ring. (winner stays on, loser hands over the controller to the next player.) It was sort of like being in the fish and chip shop when we were kids. Except it smelt different and you didn't need 20c to play!!!

I have only one more photo for you now, and this one is from very late - or very early - as it was taken at ten to three in the morning!

The big guy under the white duvet is 'Phatal1ty'
He's had enough for one night!

The really good thing about this bunch of people, is that most of them turn up the next day to help us clean up.

And that was our December LAN! Tomorrow 6th February is Waitangi Day and we might be holding one of the little garage ones since we don't have to work. When I find more time I'll put up a post on my weekend dive drip and maybe talk about Waitangi Day, but I really think it's a subject best avoided.

Hmmm

New Zealand lost to England in the cricket. What does that say about us?

No Birds, Not Cricket

My Summer Christmas was sufficently lazy that I am eager to get back into work!
I don't have a lot to say as I didn't do very much - I was given many books for the season and have chomped through them all. On top of that I have also made a great deal of headway on my own little bit of writing - about twenty pages in Word, bringing the total to about 265. Once again my flash of inspiration has dwindled but I still have some plot ideas which was more than I had when getting back into it all these holidays.

Our family often takes advantage of the long evenings to indulge in a game or two of jackpot, or sometimes BYC (back yard cricket). We are traditionally too honest to succeed well in games like cheat, poker and monopoly, but nothing has ever stopped us getting a little rough when the person who catches the 'out' gets to go in batting. Stubbed toes and occasionally bruised ribs aside it is all in good fun and now that we are adults we are careful not to let a little roughhousing turn into fights. Alas, this year there was none of that. Ju is in the UK, little brother was working and big sister either working or down south for the (world famous in New Zealand) Omarama Rodeo. I took the oportunity to remain at home with the folks and join distant family from Oz who had come to stay for a few days.

I am sorry to say I have little in the way of fabulous photos of my activities for the night, but here are some of the land and valley I grew up in, and a little lizard I saw by the back steps of a house in Ashburton.



1. View out kitchen window

2. View from bottom of valley. We live up the far end

3. From same point as (2) but turned a little to the right

4. Lizard. Used to handle them as a child, but this one was a bit sneaky.

New Zealand Christmas Tree

THE POHUTUKAWA

We don't have snow at Christmas time down here under the world, instead we have glorious summer!

We like to dress up an evergreen (usually pinus radiata) with baubles and lights to shine prettily in our lounge and to protect the gifts of love beneath its branches.

But the Pohutukawa needs no tinsel.

She has her own



MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL
[ and Happy Solstice to those who know it :-) ]

The Chosen Words

First of all I apologise for my silence recently. This weekend just past I spent indoors (despite the first bout of sunshine for too long) as my friends and I had organised an XBox LAN for saturday afternoon - sunday morning.
A group of about five to eight of us will get together every now and then, connect up our xbox's (one each of the 'box and a tv) in Muz's garage and play all sorts of games, from tactical counter-terrorism, through all-on-all 'slayer' to comedy car racing. Though I had always considered computer games to be anitsocial these are in fact a very social event, with plenty of back chat and a full dinner break in the middle.

However this one was something a little bigger. We had sixteen people confirmed, though in the end only twelve turned up, and we hired a venue. We had a projector screen, an organised competition and prizes. (arranged and purchased by myself and 'sarge.'
Anyway, despite the fact that I was inside pretty much from 1430 Saturday to 0330 sunday (when i went home) it was a great weekend.

The main apology however is mainly due to the fact that I've been having problems with my internet. I have been trying to send Maalie a copy of the Boeing 707 roll but it hasn't sent and my email to say I was going to flag the whole thing also wouldn't send. (am currently attempting the first again M.)

Okay, now to the part of the post I originally intended to type up. The sayings actually chosen to be put on the card;

1. The only way to discover the limits of the possible is to go beyond them into the impossible

2. There is pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society where non intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar,
I love not man the less, but nature more.

~~Lord Byron (Childe Harold's Pilgrimage)

3. a) Before beginning a Hunt, it is wise to ask someone what you are looking for before you begin looking for it.
3. b) Sometimes, if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slowly away beneath you, you will suddenly know everything there is to be known.
3 .c) Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.
(Winnie-The-Pooh and Christopher Robin)

And on the back page (turned out to be a multi-leaf card)

IF
by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

Friends, I need your help

Greetings again fellow bloggers,
A close friend of mine has finally conceeded that my celebration of Christmas will not end without a present passing from me to them. In order to regain a level of control, the request was that the gift should be;
A card, with a poem (written by me) and an inspirational saying. Now I have no worries making the card or writing the poem, only the little sayings I know don't seem quite.... right.

I have hunted about the internet and am currently bemoaning the loss of my parents book of quotations (since I am no longer living at home) however I still haven't found something that works. I wonder if the followers of these blogs would be interested in putting forward words that have spoken to them and may be appropriate for a person floundering a little with work, though not so much with life!

At the moment I will be putting in Rudyard Kipling's 'IF,' but I think I need something a little more succinct!

I would be very much obliged.
Ju's Little Sister :-)

>SIGH<

I am too nice.

A wing is a wing is a wing. And lift is all about tilt. More specifically, angle of attack.
See image:


Looking at the side of the plane and a cross section of the wing.
The darker line represents the angle of the fuselage - in the top image, parallel with the earth. See how the wing is tilted up slightly. From memory it is about 13 degrees. In the bottom image the plane has gone up, up, up and over and is now flying upside down the way it came. The top of the plane is now nearest the earth. As Maalie predicted, the pilot doesn't fly straight and level, but angles the plane (the controls think downwards, which is now upwards) so that the wing still has that angle of attack. In fighter planes, which require all sorts of manaeuovres, the angle of attack would be negligible, so that the pilot doesn't have to seriosly tilt the aircraft to get it to fly upside down - but as long as the fuel system can cope, any plane can use this method and fly upside down. In fact I have a video of a Boeing 707 doing a barrel roll VERY IMPRESSIVE!!! But I don't think I can load videos onto the blog. If anyone wants to host it for me...!

I hope this helps you 'W.'