From Start to Finish

(THE FINAL PIECE:)



THE FINISHED PUZZLE:




And this morning I awoke to see it is the end of the rain - for a little while at least.
Might be time to bake some more beer bread...

RAINY DAY ACTIVITIES

THE CLUE

THE WORK STATION







THE PROGRESS

( so far )

FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS

They're New Zealand's fourth most popular Folk Parody Duo and they've taken the States by storm. When they were spied at an international comedy festival they were snapped up and given a Friday night slot on HBO!

Here's a taste;




And on a more serious note - a look at The Issues;

Damper

3 Cups Self-raising flour
3 Tbsp Sugar
1 tsp Salt
1 Can of Beer

All ingredients into bowl and mix with fork. Makes something of a cross between a batter and dough. Spoon into loaf-tin. Bake at 180 degrees Celcius until golden brown on top.

Or (if you're Ju's Little Sister) Bake at 180 degrees until pleasantly charred on top...

But my flatmates love me, because I make beautiful smells waft from the kitchen on a cold Saturday morning, and they like the idea of eating bread that has beer in it.

It's good to come from Down Under!

Need a study break?

I've been told the best type of study break is one where you stop thinking. Can't stop thinking? Try making the right and left side of your brain work at the same time. Easiest way to do this (so I'm told, and I might be wrong) is to use your hand on the far side of your bodies' centre line.

For example, right hand holds left ear lobe while left hand holds nose. Now switch them so left had lets go of nose and grabs right ear lobe while right hand lets go of left ear lobe and grabs nose. You HAVE TO GET THIS RIGHT! No cheating and grabbing around blindly for something near your eye hoping it's your nose! Do it properly and slowly, then try to speed up the process. I'm told that working on doing this well stops you from thinking about anything else - you have to concentrate to get both sides of the brain working together.

But personally, I like to take a break by clicking the red dot. Trust me, it's mindless.

Penalty Stroke

I apologise for the delay in this post. Unfortunately I still don't have any images of me in the hockey tournament, but I do have this short video of a penalty stroke. Strokes are awarded in field hockey when a goal may have been scored if not for the illegal action which stopped it. For example the ball was going straight for the goal but someone other than the goalie kicked it away.

Playing this round was RNZAF Base Auckland mens versus the Wellington team. (Wellington doesn't have an Air Force base but the team was made up of players from Defence House and The HQ for Defence. Wellington in red, and Auckland in blue. (I was playing for the Auckland women's team later that day. Wellington didn't have a goalie, so in the spirit of the tournament, Auckland's reserve goalie played for them. This is the essence of our interbase tournaments. It's about the game and we'll do a lot to get the games played. For example the Auckland mens goalie played as centre forward for the Woodbourne team when they played both Ohakea and Wellington. Our women's team was made up of players from Auckland and Wellington, and Ohakea and Woodbourne joined forces to make up our only comptetition in the tournament!

So anyway, here the Auckland men's are playing against their reserve goalie who is playing for Wellington mens. WEllington had a stroke called against them. All players except the man taking the stroke and the goalie have to return to hlaf way. Goalie must have his feet (usually his heels) on the line, and the opposition must push the ball from the spot.

A quick filler

Hi all,

At Simon's urging I am writing a new post, but I warn you it will be short! This last week I have been at our annual Air Force Hockey Inter-base Tournament. This requires five days of leave, though due to travel on Monday and Friday there are only three days of game time. This usually happens to work out well as there are usually only three teams in the tourney! This year however the men had four teams - Auckland, Ohakea, Wellington and Woodbourne, while the women managed to scratch together only two - Ohakea and Auckland. So we had our round robin on Tuesday (OH vs AK) and the final today, Thursday (AK vs OH).
I am very tired! Auckland didn't have a strong team this year and Ohakea did, so as goal keeper I was working for the full 70 minutes. At the moment my back hurts!

I have no bruises to show, and tonight is the final function and prize giving. I expect to make the services team and travel to the middle of the North Island as part of the RNZAF Hockey team to take on the New Zealand Army team and the RNZN team in our Services Tournament. The only reason I am so cocky is because we always take two goalies to the services, and guess what? We only have two goalies!!! The men's competition is a little stiffer though ;-)

And that's it from me - I have to go put make up on now and get into some gears for the party. Hopefully at some point soon I will have photos for you, but not until I have had a very long sleep!!!

All the best,
Ju's.

Answer to a riddle

I have to say I'm a little disappointed no one took up the challenge of the meaning of 'Erewhon.' I am going to assume the blog was so exciting you all forgot about it by the time you reached the end of the blog. I'm going to tell you anyway because I think it's rather clever.

Samuel Butler named a part of New Zealand 'Erewhon,' because it is 'Nowhere' spelt backwards.

Okay, you might say, the 'w' and the 'h' have not been translated properly and I tell you that was simply in the interest of phonetics.

The people who live on Erewhon station literally live - nowhere!

Back to Geekery

Hi Team.

I know I've been very picturesque and romantic and exciting lately but it's time to get back to something a little more ... techie.

Take 1x XBox

Now, with a special tool and a bit of careful work (Voiding the waranty in the process...)

You get something that looks like this;

I had two goals in mind. First of all, everyone (well, except for the mad hatters who really go crazy) has the same stock standard white and grey Xbox.

BORING!

So Ju's Little Sister decided she wanted to spice things up a bit. I have searched the sites, Xbox-scene, Trademe, xbox.com and many more. The easiest thing to do is buy a vinyl 'skin' which is can come looking like anything, pictures, patterns, abstract - you name it, they've got it. Vinyl skins can be removed and changed at will, though I understand they're a little tricky to get on just right. But while I think white is boring (because it's the same as everyone else) I don't like clutter or too much activity all over my possessions. So I was always looking for a plain colour, which I eventually found as a complete new case. I chose black. Original, I know BUT!

Goal two: With a bit of soldering;

I've shown you all my robot PCBs (green square thing with shiny bits ) so you should recognise this no worries! There were four tiny little diodes about 3-4 mm long and 1mm wide and one even smaller which I removed (trying not to damage the board as I did so) and five diodes about 2mm long and >1mm wide which I soldered on - not as they would normally, but sitting on their sides and facing inwards along the board. I took the board into work to do as they have precision temperature soldering irons and tiny little tips to make it easier. Not to mention vices for PCBs and a myriad of other handy tools like heat sinking tweezers and flux etc. When I was finished I was sure I had broken two of the diodes from heat alone and was not looking foward to having to buy more.

I brought it home and reassembled the Xbox (with the black case) and with trepidation I turned it on.

HURRAH!

The diodes (which were Light Emitting Diodes, or LEDs) all worked, and now instead of a white box with green lights, I had a black one with blue lights!

Oh, did I mention I replaced the shell for the controller as well?

Okay, so it looks silly in the photos (which I will be the first to admit, aren't that good.) but it actually looks quite stylie in real life. Ah yes, another moment of pure geek satisfaction.

Now I have a spare case just lying around. What shall I do with it? Well, one of the trades in the Royal New Zealand Air Force (called Safety & Surface trade) specialises, amongst other things, in painting. AND, not only are they brilliant at spray painting things like planes and cars and bikes and whatever you can think of, but they are also pretty good at making and placing decals as well. I've asked around and for the price of some beers or some baking there are one or two who are happy to take my little project under their wing. Tomorrow Matt is going to bring in a couple of colour books for me to choose the colour and I'll go talk to Tab since I hear she has already designed a sticker based on Alice in Wonderland.
As you probably won't recall from my post on the XBox LAN my name was Alice, since I am a little like the afore mentioned character when it comes to computer games. However when you try to play XBox over the 'real' internet no two players in the world are allowed to have the same name (or Gamertag). So I had to think of something else.
During the LANs I usually get killed more than I kill others, so when I did sneak up behind a player and knock him over the head, as it were, he would often call out the words from a popular song - "Alice? Who the [expletive] is Alice?" So after much trail and error, I ended up with a gamertag of: Who tF is Alice.
No bull.

I have in my mind exactly what I'd like to have stuck to the side of the Xbox, but because of the delicate nature of the wording I am hesitant about whether I should display any of it here on blogspot. However, in the interests of the story, I think it would be rude not to. So I have posted the ummm, moderated version. Of course, there's no guarantee I'll use this case (if the stickers can even be made) , it will live in the wardrobe for the most part. And it certainly will not be visible in certain company. Family for instance, and young children. ;-)
On the other hand, it certainly will be original.

So, any ideas for the background colour?

(They can do anything, even that cameleon paint!)

www.mesopotamia.co.nz

I went up my mountain in a fog, and then got above the mist; going higher and higher, I would look down upon a sea of whiteness, through which would be thrust innumerable mountain-tops that looked like islands. I am there now, as I write, I fancy that I can see the downs, the huts, the plain and the river-bed - that torrent pathway of desolation, with its distant roar of water, oh wonderful! Wonderful! So lonely, and so solemn, with the sad grey clouds above and no sounds save a lost lamb bleating upon the mountain-side, as though its little heart were breaking.

Erewhon, Samuel Butler

Post script: This excerpt was first read to me by my mother, who holds a talent few who I have met can claim to share. From her mouth this is not an excerpt, not a reading, not simply words on a page - but an experience. When she comes to the end she pauses and tries not to cry as she feels every ounce of lonelines that Samuel Butler is trying to convey. I know that she would do anything to take the imaginary lamb to her own breast and love it as her own. When Mother reads it, it makes me cry. When I read it, it is not Butler's voice nor my own I hear, but Mother's, and the lonliness, beauty and homesickness rises up and is so powerful, that I cry again.

Tui's namesake

This is a photo of one of the lawns around our house. In the forground on the left is a toi toi bush. These are also sometimes called tui tui bushes, it's a matter of pronounciation. There is a stream on our farm which has quite a number of these pretty plants and not suprisingly it's called (wait for it...) Tui Creek.

The next time I go home (probably not until Christamas I am afraid) I will try and get a more expressive photo for you.

Notes on the last

I just wanted to mention one or two things about my post: Easter at Helms Deep.

1. I seem to have consistenty misspelled "Butler" by swapping the t and the l.
2. My Grandfather, Malcom V. Prouting, bought Messy from the bank long before it went to his sons.
3.A note on my description of travelling upstream to find some water (Priority1. Get the dog some water);
The terrain that the Alma flows across and through once it leaves the gully is ancient gravel river bed. The land was formed by glacier, then claimed by glacial and snow-fed rivers. This is why the Rangitata is known as a braided riverbed. It is free to wind about and make its own path across the wide flat valley floor, and carves new 'streams' each year as it floods with the spring melt. Where the Alma emerges from the mountains to the side it has shifted its own fair share of broken down greywacke rock and built up a high causeway of gravel that follows its path from the mouth of the gully out to the Rangitata. You could see how high this was in the pictures, we had to scramble down one bank and the stream has since eaten into its own creation another level again.

When we aproached the Alma from the side, following a rough hunters track, and made our way up onto the causeway, we discovered old stream bed but no water. None. The place was as dry as a lizard's back. But only a few metres upstream, say 50m, there was a trickle of beautiful clear snow-fed water. And another 50-100m up the stream the water was rushing so fast and deep I could only wade through in places (and you saw how high my 'gumboots' were) and the dog didn't want to attempt it at all.
The madly rushing water upstream was gradually soaked in through the gravel until it was running underground and would have come out into the Rangitata again somewhere lower.

Now isn't that amazing???

Easter at Helms Deep

This Good Friday I flew with my friend Megsie and her four month old German Wire-haired Pointer 'Orion' from the North to the South Island of New Zealand. From Christchurch we drove three hours south and inland until we came to the entrance to the beautiful valley where I grew up. Welcome to the Rangitata Gorge. Our journey continued right up to the head of the valley in the above picture until we reached my parents' farm and the house where I grew up. That evening we settled in and Megs met my sister and brother, my parents she had met before. My older sister Mel (Ju's twin) manages the farm while Dad looks on and tries to let go. Brother Andrew has worked for over a year as a well-paid tractor driver but has recently shifted this job to the weekends so that he can attend an apprenticship at an engineering firm. Since he had the weekend off he came up home as well since I rarely get to see any of them anymore.

It rained on Friday night while we were all tucked up in our respective beds, and Saturday dawned dull and grey, and threatening to rain again at any moment. Nevertheless I was keen to show Megs the land where I grew up and she was just as keen to discover it. The photos on the blog were taken on her camera, so there might be some things I mention but don't have photos for.
Mesopotamia Station sits right at the very head of the valley and was originally settled by an English scholar and author, Samuel Butler.

Samuel Butler's Original Homestead

Butler named the place 'Mesopotamia' after ancient Mesopotamia which lies between the Euphrates and Tigiris Rivers in what is today Iraq. The word is greek, and is made of mesos meaning 'between' and potamos meaning 'river.' -ia is a suffix which denotes the name of a place. Therefore Mesopotamia literally means "the land between two rivers." In Iraq these were the previously mentioned bodies of water, and here in South Canterbury, New Zealand Butler refers to Forest Creek and Bush Stream. Not rivers perhaps, but romantic and fitting. But Mesopotamia has never really been resistricted by the Bush Stream, though Forest creek is in fact its southerly border.
He also named the land directly on the other side of the river too, and even wrote a book about it. The name of the country across the river is called Erewhon, even today. The origin of the word Erewhon is not greek. I challenge readers to tell me what it means. If you already know then don't spoil it for the rest!

My grandfather was employed as a manager for Mesopotamia when it was owned by the bank (long after Butler was gone) and then later bought it from the bank and ran it himself (with a myriad of sheperds and other farm hands...). When his sons were grown the massive station was split into three farms, and given to three of those sons. My Uncle Laurie took over the main station, still called Mesopotamia, my own father owns the farm next door "The Tui" Station, and my Uncle Ray and his family took over Garondale Station, which borders Forest Creek. (This has since been sold and renamed Forest Creek Station.) As I was growing up I went to Mesopotamia Primary school - school roll of ten - and learned a great deal about the history of the area I called my home.
The one-room primary school is situated right next to the site of Butler's original homestead and you can still see the outline of the sod-walls were they have sunk into the ground with time. I wish I had a photo. More impressive is the ruins of his dairy, made of stone and crumbling next to the homestead. The door frame (though wooden) is still there. But not all the history (and I'm sure the brits reading this will be laughing at my idea of history, but New Zealand is very young so you have to gove her a chance.) is about Butler. The wagon in the picture below has never been out of the shed as long as I have been driving past it on the way to school or visit my cousins, but my Dad can remember a childhood with it in full service.

I haven't posted the close up, but it is marked with 'Mesopotamia' in a semi-circle on the side, which I have always thought was pretty darn cool.

After visiting the school we ducked a few hundred metres up the road to drop in on my cousins who are now running the station, and on the way back my brother was good enough to take Megs and I in the truck out the back of The Tui.
My Dad farms perendale sheep, aberdeen angus cattle and red deer - all for meat. Megs and her husband hunt wild fellow deer in the North Island, so she was impressed to catch sight of our magnificent specimens, and she even heard one of them having a good roar! She tried to get some photos of them without the fences, all to show her husband and make him jealous, but unfortunately the ones we were looking at were in quite a small paddock.

Two stags and their hinds.
(hind = doe)

Easter Sunday dawned beautiful and sunny - perfect for a picnic. The sandwiches were made in no time, the billy packed and off we went. We were going to help Megs discover Middle Earth. I'm not sure if I have mentioned this, but there are two places - one over the river by Erewhon (have you figure it out yet?) and one further up the river on Mesopotamia. Mt Sunday lies across the river from us. Compared to all the mountains around us it look like an insignificant mound, but this little glacial remenant was the site of Rohan's Edoras.

The picture above is almost split in two horizontally. Tussock and black matagouri in the foreground, and mountains and sky in the background.
From the left of the photo, follow the line along the top of the black vegetation, just inside the edge of the picture is a little hill lying in front of the larger hills behind it. It doesn't even stretch into the middle of the image. That is Mt Sunday, and perched atop was the village of Edoras.

On our side of the river, and much further up yet lies the mouth and delta of a stream which emerges from the deep gully it has carved from the mountains. This is where we were headed, and this is where we would stop for a traditional kiwi 'billy-tea.'

But before we reached our destination we came across a little two (TWO!!) roomed musterer's hut. This is known as the Black Mountain Hut, but is also sometimes refered to as the Alma Hut. The hut itself is rather boring to look at from the outside, and inside there is a fireplace, bench and some bunk beds. There are more bunk beds in the tiny ajoining room. There is no running water and for a long time there had been no electricity. But now if you want to bring a generator with you then you can run it outside and you'll have lights at night. As far as hygeine is concerned, there is a shielded space designed for you to hang up a bladder of water for a shower and pictured below is the loo-with-a-view. A long-drop, or 'dunny' as its refered to in NZ, is a hole in the ground with a seat build over it. This one has three walls and the view fortunately faces away from the hut. Megs took a photo of the back of it.

Loo-with-a-view

After a poke around and watering the dog, we headed on for another ten minutes or so to reach the mouth of the Alma Stream, and Helms Deep.

Priority 1:
Get the dog some water.

Orion and I scramble down to the first level of stream-bed

Then we clamber up-stream to find some water
(running through the second level of the stream bed)

At last! Orion drinks his fill

Priority 1a:
Boil the Billy.

Boiling the billy is a Kiwi term for boiling water and making a cup of tea. The Billy is the soot-black pot you can see swinging over the fire. The water is boiled then a handful of tea-leaves is thrown in (almost literally) and the 'billy' stews.

Then it's off-the-fire! with anything that's handy and poured straight from the billy into your cup. So the next time you turn on the jug for a cuppa, have a think about the effort it took us to make this one!

But finally the tea was drunk, the sandwiches eaten and we made our way up the Alma to where it emerged from the gully. This was were Peter Jackson had the studio-built replica of Helms Deep transposed by computer. I tried to get the magnificent (and I really mean that) MAGNIFICENT arial view of the fortress from the movie, where it is full day and you can see the fort nestled right inside the valley - an impenterable marvel of design and build. Unfortunately the internet only seems to have dark, night-time, stormy pre-battle images, so here are the two for your comparison;

I really think the angles are all wrong!

So to finish off this rather long-winded post, I have added a couple of shots from the movie Lord of the Rings, The Two Towers;

As I mentioned, the village of Edoras (Riders of Rohan) was built on top of little Mt Sunday, which lies across the river from us. In this shot you can see Eowyn (Miranda Otto) as she steps out of the main hall. The mountains on the other side of the river belong to Mesopotamia Station, and the flats to the far left (also on the far side of the river) are known as Butler Downs. What you can see of the Butler Downs is owned by "Messy Station" too, but most of the downs make up "The Tui" Station, my father's property (further to the left, out of shot.)

You can only just see the edge of 'old' Mesopotamia under the mountain on the very right of the picture. As you must really have been able to appreciate - where I grew up there are mountains all around!

Thank you for sticking through the whole of this post. It took a while to write it, and I hope you enjoyed it. Megs, Orion and I made it safely back into horrid Auckland City on Monday afternoon, and I have been dying slowly inside to be back in front of a computer screen at work instead of out in the glorious South Canterbury High Country!






Notes on copyright for last two images:

Eowyn (Miranda Otto) niece of King Theoden, stands at the magnificent Rohan capital of Edoras Photo by Pierre Vinet/New Line Productions 2002 - © 2002 - New Line Productions - All Rights Reserved

Lord of the Rings: The Two TowersPhoto by Pierre Vinet - © 2002 - New Line Productions - All Rights Reserve

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.