Actually, I didn't.

Something has been irritating me about...umm...life? Technology? People? Companies? I'm not quite sure who to blame...

Just now, I switched on the computer, got myself online and saw that my virus software was doing a big update. All well and good, I like it when it updates. This was a particularly big update but they do happen sometimes too so I was not bothered (other than that it was making everything else a little sloooow.) Until the end. When up pings the message "Thank you for choosing to download the XXXXX (virus software) toolbar." What?! I didn't. I don't like it. It gets in the way. It suggests that I was use Yahoo! to search not Google. It takes away the shiny new (ok, not very shiny or very new...) Google page that I had been getting used to whenever I opened a new tab. It generally irritates me. But when I look at whether I can delete it or shrink it or anything else, it emotionally blackmails me "With this, you are sooooo protected. Every webpage you look at is thoroughly checked by my magnificent powers of security. Nothing can possibly go wrong...while you have me!" Ok. Fine. Make my browsing experience a little more irritating and possibly a little safer but don't suggest that I chose this method and Don't Thank Me!

That being the main bit. How many times do you get unsolicited mail/email/phone calls/whatever that start with "Thank you for choosing..." this product, to support this charity, to align yourself with this political party, for recycling your nose hair..... When you did no such thing, made no such decision. Just be honest!

"Hi, This is a piece of junk mail. You don't really want it but we're sending it on the off chance that today is one of those days where you feel like reading everything that comes through the door. It is a good excuse for not doing the cooking/vacuuming/washing up/tidying that you are meant to do. It feels virtuous, reading the post, doesn't it? Well, now we have you in that frame of mind, please can we sell you something/beg for money/play on the heartstrings?

Chances are you aren't reading this so we'll just slip in a couple of insults or inappropriate jokes cos frankly, who is going to care?"

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr................

Rant over. :)

Sorry for the lack of posting. This is mainly because I wanted to do that holiday post that I mentioned before but haven't been in the mood (does anyone else suffer from bursting into Glenn Miller whenever they say "in the mood"?) for it and so haven't wanted to post anything else because then the holiday post wouldn't happen...ah well...

In a total aside, and to leave things on a happy note, have you ever seen a wild puffin? If not, I thoroughly recommend it for the soul, for your well being, for good health and good cheer! I saw my very first puffins while we were on holiday in Anglesey and then we went last Friday to Bempton Cliffs RSPB reserve in East Yorkshire and saw lots more. They make me smile so very much. I must look like a loon peering through binoculars grinning madly to myself. Husbink had the camera and took lots of photos but we don't quite have a big enough zoom yet. But I think you can tell they are puffins. :)

Rather Lacking

The company I work for is VERY big on customer service. We rely heavily on an extremely loyal customer base and so we go out of our way for them every day.
Sometimes this is particular situations like the woman I had in a few weeks ago whose husband had ruined his favourite trousers by getting a biiiig stain on them while doing some DIY. We had no advice on ways to remove it (it was not coming out) so instead managed to track down a suitable patch (the trousers were no longer current stock) which involved cutting up a spare pair found at head office...
Other times, it is just our policy that gives the good service. We have no 28 day limit for refunds or exchanges. We have one of (if not the) longest guarantee in the business on waterproofing. If we start a 20% off promo and people come back in complaining they hadn't heard one week, two weeks, three weeks ago when they bought their x, y, z, we refund the difference in gift vouchers... Sometimes I get irritated because we are a small company and would people really do that to M&S or Debenhams when they have one of their blue cross sales? Maybe some would but I suspect not as many as do to us. Anyway. The point is, I spend my time at work bending over backwards for people (sometimes I'm happy to, sometimes it grates, it rather depends on the person) and so I have very little tolerance for bad service.
This week, I got very cross with myself for not saying to someone how utterly abysmal their service had been. Instead I left. Then I spent the rest of the evening fuming and plotting what I might do to rectify the situation while knowing that I wouldn't be bothered to do any of these things.
I was in a shop on the way home from work. I was looking to buy a few things that I required but I was buying treat versions rather than cheap versions. There were signs all over the shop saying that if I spent £20 I would get a free bag. As I I was spending nearly £20 on what I wanted I thought I might as well tip it over the £20 mark as a free bag never goes astray with me. Several sales assistants checked if I needed any help and one of them pointed out to me that there was an offer still on that ended that evening so she'd removed the signs. She did not say "so the offer that all the signs in the shop are for is not running yet". Nothing of the sort.
When I got to the till and made my purchase (which included getting sucked into a discount card thingy) it became apparent that my free bag was not forth coming. However my money had been taken by then and I was tired. It twigged that if one offer was still running the one advertised everywhere wasn't. I stated this much. The woman (who was the manager making this even worse) simply said "no" at the end. I was tired. I was grumpy. I just walked out. I did not point out how poor her service was. I did not point out that in my shop if we put the signs up early so we can go home on time, we honour them. It is our fault, not the customers that we are over-keen.
Now I'm left just not wanting to ever go into that shop again. But I like their products. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Nice t' see ya...

Hello...
It's been a strange wee while and I don't think I'm out of it yet.
We have had a few adventures which is nice, makes us think we haven't completely lost control of our lives. We took a little jaunt on the chunnel as it used to be called and had a lovely few chocolate filled days in Bruges with all the in laws (all being three of them, it wasn't a vast outing remember!). We've also managed to have a few days out from here, one amazingly beautiful walk on a warm Autumn Sunday afternoon, one slightly soggy, very muddy beautiful in places bike ride. (As well as fighting with mud quite spectacularly (at one point I was stopping every 60-70m to clean out my brakes because my wheels would not turn anymore...) we also changed route a couple of times to steer clear of the phesant hunters. We did not want our squeals of alarm at the mud to be mistaken for bird cries... Ooh, I also had quite an impressively complicated tumble at one point (really not sure what happened) and so now have impressively scraped and bruised knees so that I feel like a child.)
Other than that...well, I'm still not wildly happy about the direction life is going (or rather not going at the moment). Husbink's job is fab and I'm very happy for him. One of my jobs is fab. The other...is not turning out quite as I'd hoped. It may still be ok. I'm giving it time...
We were going to get a dog; we aren't now. We are looking for and utterly failing to find a church. We are looking for and utterly failing to find friends. We are making a mad dash tomorrow night to visit someone in hospital that we very, very much hope is not going to be in as serious a position post-hospital as they could be. I have another blood test a week today. I'm not looking forward to that as they bashed my arm up so much last time (yes, I know everyone can have a bad day so I'm not blaming them but it did hurt. For days.).
What a whinge.
Sorry.
I will, I'm sure, snap out of it soon. It's just taking longer to snap than I'd like!

Blogging Without Agenda

Normally when I sit down to blog, I have a plan or something similar...
Today, no plan. I do have another lake to tell you about but the camera is downstairs and my legs are very tired so I'm not going to do that now.
I do have very things on my mind but at this point none of them are bloggable. So I shall ramble and you shall feel like you've just survived a small flood. You have been warned.
I failed last week to blog about our anniversary and about how wonderful Husbink is. Truly. He is. The traditional fourth anniversary gift is fruit or flowers. Not the easiest thing (ok, so flowers is pretty easy, what I'm meaning is, not the easiest thing to spoil a Husbink with. I managed a bottle of wine and a bottle of posh fizzy fruit juice (so we could drink it before work you see) and a card with a bottle of wine on it...a theme?) Husbink laid white roses around the house, leading to a big bouquet of flowers. Then he presented me with wine (so we think quite similarly) and (perhaps best of all) a chocolate orange - cos it's fruit, right?
In the evening we went out for a lovely meal. Which was lovely.
The next day Husbink started nights which was not so lovely. However, the next day, the Saturday was an event I'd been looking forward to for months and months and months. Woolfest. It was amazing. If a little overwhelming. So. Much. Wool. And associated gubbins.
I spent quite a lot of money (but not as much as I had budgeted so that is ok surely?) and now have many exciting projects from bags to slippers to cushions to socks...awaiting me. Hurrah! I have also learnt (yes, the hard way) some lessons about different types of yarn this being my first real foray (sp?!) away from "whatever I can get from the market" (which is normally acrylic or nylon or easy knit wool). The only upsetting bit of this learning (snapping my new needles the day I bought them) has been solved by the every marvellous Husbink and so I need not cry.
The rest of the week has been...odd. There have been some lovely times of course (meals with friends, the big walk to be posted soon, some decent weather...) but everything is just a little...odd. The unsettling nature of our lives at the moment it taking its toll. I can tell because I'm going slightly mad. Things that should not bother me are bothering me. My tummy is also telling me it is a problem because I keep looking about 7 months pregnant. Which I'm not. Clearly. I keep reminding myself it is a challenge. I am yet to really believe myself or to find it much of a comfort.
Still, just now, my tummy is telling me it is lunch time and today lunch time means one of my absolute all time comfort meals - the three Ps...pesto, pasta and peas. I am a lucky girl!

The Bleugh Monster

Yesterday and today, the Bleugh Monster has struck. The Bleugh Monster has been known by a number of names in the past, including Jeremy (I can't remember why anymore, and I must send sincere apologies to anyone called Jeremy...it isn't really fair.) Anyway, Bleugh Monster is at least a little more descriptive than Jeremy.
Yesterday, the Bleugh Monster turned up about half an hour after I got up. I knew he was on his way but he didn't seem to be causing too much issue. All of a sudden, wham, he was right there and I was lying on the floor, at Husbink's request narrowly avoiding a proper faint. I was so pale I'd turned a little green. I had no pulse at my wrists and when Husbink did finally find one it didn't make him very happy.
After a while on the floor I managed to make it back to bed, after a while in bed I managed to make it upright for long enough to be taken to the inlaws for the day so that someone could keep an eye on me the Bleugh Monster. I spent all day on the sofa, much of it asleep. I had to call in sick because of the Bleugh Monster. That is not something I find acceptable.
This morning...I felt ok. Fortunately it was a day off anyway. I got up with Husbink, saw him off to work and chilled out for a few hours, the Bleugh Monster hovering about but not making much impact. Until I tried to do a few too many things at once and there I was having to lie on the floor and stick my feet in the air again.
I've been upright for all of half an hour now and guess what? I need a lie down. It is a year tomorrow since I had surgery. I'd hoped the Bleugh Monster would be held down to only a bleugh monster for a little bit longer but apparently not. Now when we move to Yorkshire I'm going to have to look for jobs that don't mind that there are 2-3 days a month when I simply cannot work. On top of all my other ideal elements to a job, I think I'm going to be more than lucky to find something.

An Overdue Rant

As I think I mentioned, the other week we spent the weekend with Mad Medea and Husband. It was great. We had a lovely time and it was wonderful to see them after so long. Except. (What follows is a rant fully sanctioned by all those involved.)
On the Saturday, MM made a wonderful picnic and we chose a pretty little Cotswold village to eat it in. A pretty village by the name of Bibury. Bibury boasts the "prettiest row of cottages" in the Cotswolds (or something like that, I can't remember the exact phrasing) according to William Morris in 18-blah-de-blah.
Said cottages are now National Trust land although they do seem to be lived in as well. Bibury also has a river running through it and, according to the map, lots of green space. A wonderful setting for an afternoon of picnicking and perhaps a little strolling to look at all the beautiful places like the Saxon church, St Mary's.
On arrival, we discovered Bibury to be rather...full. This wasn't a huge surprise as it was a very sunny Saturday in the Cotswolds. We were not expecting a place to ourselves. We managed to squeeze the car into a space and set off to find a picnic spot.
It turned out that the large green area was ALL taken over by a trout farm. There was no where to sit without paying £3.50 for the privilege. Given the amount of water and the number of midges that seemed to be about the place, it didn't seem much of a privilege. We walked a little in the hopes of finding some countryside. We failed. We thought we'd just plonk down on any old patch of green but there was only one - and it suffered from the midges. Any bits of land not owned by the trout farm were private property of the big swanky hotel.
We thought in the end that we would go and sit outside the row of beautiful cottages. There was only a small strip of green and there were a lot of people but it was pretty - and much less midgy.
But oh no. Mr I Own Everything appeared and said no! No picnics here! It was National Trust land. There was no sign about the lack of picnicking opportunities. But we were not in the mood for an argument (shortly afterwards, I think we were but we let him away with it!).
There was no where left in Bibury, not a single place to sit - except on a stone wall on the edge of a busy foot path. We decided to move on.
Before doing so though, Bibury added one final nail to its coffin. I went to use the loo. I had to pay. I could only pay with a 20p piece. There was no change machine. I don't mind paying for the loo if it is a nice loo, if I can see why I'm paying for it because it is well maintained etc etc. It wasn't pleasant. It was dark and metallic and ugly and had one of those automated hand washer things. Hands here for soap, here for water, here for air. 1-2-3. I hate them.
So just as a recommendation, when you think you might go to Bibury, don't. Find a nice field with a pretty view instead.

Such a Disappointment

One of the things we (ok, I) really missed while in NZ was the wonderful annual ritual of glitz, glam, sequins, silliness and suspense that is the Eurovision Song Contest.
The year before we went was possibly one of the best ever with Lordi's Hard Rock Hallelujah winning (though our favourite was Lithuania's We Are the Winners for extreme silliness). Even the UK entry that year was pretty comical with Daz Simpson's Teenage Life...
Last night, we watched in great anticipation having heard marvellous things of the Azerbijan rock opera entry and generally expecting the usual level of special entries and fun.
Like pulling teeth. It was so boring. Just pop song after pop song. Thank goodness for Latvia's sense of humour and Spain's...weirdness to brighten the evening.
Anyway, the biggest problem was this whole tactical voting thing. The UK song was actually pretty good this time round. Not being biased. Normally, the UK entrant can't sing, is bland, blah blah blah. Not so yesterday. But did the poor guy get any votes?! Well, one or two, but he came last. Joint last, with Poland.
And it just wasn't funny any more. Yes, we know the Balkans and the Baltics will all vote for each other but it has just become too ridiculous. Knowing exactly who everyone is going to vote for takes any fun out of the competition.
To top it all off, El Tel was firing definite warning shots (as Husbink puts it). If there is no Terry Wogan commentry next year, Eurovision will definitely not be getting my vote.

Hijacked by hormones

So today and tomorrow are *my* days. Free days to get jobs done about the house but also do all those other things that I like to do and so on. Can I achieve one single thing? Can I 'eckers like!
My hormones have well and truly put paid to any idea of being a useful human being. Not because I'm in uncontrolable pain and need to just lounge about the house. No, I just can't summon up the emotional wherewithall to do anything but eat chocolate and mope. Oh, yippee.
Diagnosis Murder, tea and blankie here I come.

Rebranding

One of the strange little things I noticed about moving countries (and more about moving this way, coming back to the "familiar"), is the slow persistent seep of rebranding your life.
Gone are the Pam's paracetamol and the Razene anti-histamines, replaced with Tesco and Boots own. We had almost reached the point of being entirely UK-ed on this front and then our shipping arrived. Everything wrapped up neatly in the Hutt News. How we miss the comedy letters pages!
We also have many things in our house that we are only used to seeing in their places in Tyndall Street and they jar each time we look at them.
I know we are starting to be incredibly boring. We talked before we left NZ and agreed that the last thing we wanted to do was become the people who spend all their time saying "In New Zealand...blah blah blah". We agreed that if that was the case after a while, it would be a good indication that our hearts really lay elsewhere.
For the first few months, it was acceptable. We hadn't done much here while waiting for jobs and all the rest of it and so to be able to join in conversations, most of our experience did come from NZ. Now we are both working and generally part of "life" a little more, we have other stories to call on. And yet...
Since everything has come together so well over the last month or so, it has sadly only served to highlight that we'd rather be somewhere else. That isn't to say we aren't enjoying life at the moment. We are having some really good times and it is great to be able to meet up with Mr & Mrs SD "just like that" or visit Mad Medea and Husband for the weekend or...these are all such good and important things. Everything is good here but we'd rather be somewhere else.
I know it is only four and a bit months since we left. I know we have to give it longer (and with Husbink's new job, we are going to be forced to give it longer). I know that this could all change and that in a year or two, NZ will be fond memories but not such a drag on our hearts. Right now though, I just want to get on that plane. I don't want to be church hunting when the church I want to go to is Knox. I don't want to be househunting in Yorkshire when I want to live in Waiwhetu. I don't want to go to Tesco when I'd rather be going to Countdown.

I can't think of many things worse...

The best thing about being on a plane? Especially a long haul flight? All that time in which you can just be - watch films, read a book, listen to music, comedy, do puzzles...whatever! The time is yours and yours alone (okay, alone with lots of other people...but they can't steal the time!)
And now? Mobile phone use has been approved by for use on planes in Europe. Yeah, it is a still a long way off and it will take airlines a wee while to get sorted and blah blah blah blah blah and of course I can (and will) continue to switch my phone off on the plane but that isn't going to stop all the other eejits is it?
Why couldn't they just lie (like large sections of hospitals) and say it was all too dangerous and don't do it?!

(Note: It *may* be the case that actually something else really pissed me off before I read the article on this. It *may* be the case that venting over mobile phones on planes is easier than on what has actually bothered me.)

Keeping Going

Ugh.
I'm packing. I'm packing four different ways - what we are leaving behind/giving away; what we are shipping home; what we are taking on holiday; what we are taking home but not taking on holiday (basically read BIG JUMPERS there)...
We have six days left in the house (if you count today and the day we leave).
As well as the packing, sorting and cleaning required for leaving the house, Husbink has to apply for those pesky proper jobs that don't start until August within the next week. Hoo-bloody-rah.
I didn't sleep last night. This was mainly due to not being able to get comfy because of my tetanus injection the other day. Once I couldn't sleep though, of course my brain did not shut down. Not a jot of it. I wasn't particularly worried about anything or stressing, I simply couldn't stop thinking. Some of it was only about Harry Potter... The lack of sleep wasn't aided by the bit when I did get some decent sleep (between about 4am and 6am) being woken up by our crazy neighbours who do their washing at 4am and hang it out sometime between 5.30am and 6.30am. It was about 5.45am this morning. They are (it seems) both deaf and shout a lot. But that is ok. What is not ok is their clothes line. It is a whirlygig as I'd call it and it squeaks. A lot. And this morning they seemed to be playing some kind of game that involved spinning it. Oh what fun.
So anyway, by the time I got up, I was not in a great frame of mind. Husbink managed to soothe me for a while but then had to go to work at 10.30. The soothing lasted quite well but I now seem to have lost it again.
In some ways, the problem is that I can't quite finish anything - we still need most of our kitchen stuff, there are clothes still hanging on the line, we are still using our bed (and thus bedding)...So I have many half full boxes that I can't do anything with.
I'm stuck at home waiting for someone who has bought a heater off me on trademe to get in touch. I feel guilty that I'm not at our friends house helping them build a fence but kind of figure that I have enough jobs of my own on today. But have convinced myself they don't see it that way.
BLEUGH.
Going to eat muffins.

Emotionally Hungover

Yesterday evening went pearshaped.
A number of things contributed. We can't deny the old hormones. Or the general emotional upheaval of the moment. Or the earwig. Crawling on my black & white chocolate muffin.
On the whole, the emotion was that silly uncontrolable grump that only hormones can cause. I wrote a blog last night. I had just enough sense left to delete it. I also had just enough sense left in the hour or so spent trawling the internet (cos I was too upset to go to bed) to not throw my computer against the wall when I read various things that upset, infuriated or belittled me. I'm sure if I read those things today there would be no problem.
I ended up deciding it was safest not to stray into too many unknown territories at this point and started reading various "old things". Old emails, old blog entries. Eventually this did help me calm down enough to go and sit on Husbink's knee for a while (still incapable of saying anything nice to him. He's an awfully good Husbink to have) and finally make my way to bed. I woke up this morning still in a reasonable tiz so we played a game that we both have a very strong love/hate relationship with. It eventually made me so upset and angry that I started crying and then could tell Husbink all the things that were bothering me from the "I know this only bothers me because of the hormones" to the "This is actually a serious problem and I don't think we can fix it but you should know" issues.
Then we went to the library and rented the 5th season of 24 and I bought lots of new wool (not from the library) for more squares for my multicoloured blanket. And had beans on toast for lunch. (Only, they were weird beans...morrocan stylee which meant they weren't really like baked beans at all and more like a morrocan tagine thing with chickpeas that I sometimes make. All well and good but not really what I was after on a comfort eating day. Which means it is definitely fish fingers and chips for tea. I digress. Which is frankly what I'm going to do all post. You may want to stop reading now...). I feel ok now. I don't feel amazing. I certainly don't feel positive enough to go out and deal with Christmas shopping for Husbink's presents when I don't have any idea what I'm going to get. That would definitely still fall into the dangerous category. I'm emotionally hungover. I'm drained from fighting through the undergrowth. I know I'm going to feel better from here and that a number of the feelings will disappear (the irrational jealousies, the silly moments of choosing to take offense...) however, I also know that the larger problems are no closer to being resolved. And they won't be because, quite simply, life has to play itself out. There are various knowns...we have flights to catch, we have weddings to attend, family reunions to enjoy or tolerate (depending on which of several events...). It is a pretty short list of knowns though when compared to the unknowns (job? house? where? what? kids?) and each unknown rests precariously against the others making each decision vital and impossible. I simply have to take a back seat for a while and watch what happens. I've come to a few conclusions on various of the unknowns and I've learnt a lot about myself over the past year and a bit. I won't make some of the mistakes I made before but I'm sure I'll find new ones.
(Heh. I've got my (almost) entire CD collection on random on the laptop at the moment. And it has chosen now to play The Happy Song (sadly the slightly more lacklustre Matt Redman version as opposed to either Deliriou5? or Why?) (oh and I couldn't find a decent YouTube version...and to be honest, if you don't know the song I'm talking about, you probably wouldn't want to be introduced to it!))
I've reached one decision that, well, it isn't quite a decision because I suspect there may be some cases of "needs must" over the next year or so...perhaps I have made a concrete realisation instead. Here it is...
I never wanted to work in an office. It was my single greatest dread when I was a child. I'd been fooling myself that because the various office jobs (not counting temping, which is just weird...and just doesn't quite count) I've done have not been typical - have not involved banks or having to wear suits and so on - that I hadn't really been working in offices. Obviously, I have been working in offices. It is precisely what I have been doing. And even when working in offices for good causes and so on, it is still working in an office. It is still administration. It is still paperwork. Which is all well and good but I've just woken up and realised it is not well and good for me. There is a dream not-office-job that I have now but I think it is a long way off, if ever. Other than the dream job though, there are plenty of things out there that don't involve an office and I have to start thinking about possibilities there. Which could be quite fun. Certainly better to view as fun than not...
(Oooh, and now You Stole the Sun has come on...which has put me in mind of a new top ten...)

I know it is stupid but...

So I've been trying to get ahead of myself with all the things that leaving a house, a town and a country require.
Flights, end of tenancy notice, shipping companies, cancelling this, cancelling that, arranging to get rid of various items, sell others, have a good holiday on the way...
Last week I completed several of these tasks and was at the point where basically only the holiday bit (and the actual packing) still remained to be done.
Then today, I find that one of the bits that I had thought sorted several weeks ago (cancelling gym membership) wasn't. I found this out because they took more money off us. But only my money. They have managed to cancel Husbink's membership, just not mine.
It is not a big deal. At worst it means I get to use the gym for another two weeks. At best it means that when I get to talk to the right person tomorrow, they realise their mistake, give me my money back and on we trot.
But it has really wound me up. One of those silly, silly moments when you feel "if this has gone wrong, what other bogey men are waiting round the corner to stuff up my plans!?" Rational, I know.
I'm utterly capable of this feeling in reverse too. If something that I expect to be difficult goes well then suddenly it feels like everything will run smoothly, there will be no glitches, all will, indeed, be well.
It appears I am not capable of taking each event on its own and simply dealing with it. This caused me endless problems in probability classes at school and uni as I refused to accept that the next outcome was not influenced by the former (I'm not talking about just rolling a die here - though I can put forward a good argument for that not being a series of independent events too).
Husbink and I were playing cribbage earlier and he had won each round and was very close to winning the game. Very close. I said I thought it pointless to continue as there was no way I was going to win. Of course, it was possible for me to win still but based on the previous rounds, unlikely. My mood, the shuffling of the cards, etc, etc, all combine at this point, in my mind to make it far more likely that Husbink will continue to win. He views the events as distinct.
So just because I lost at cribbage and the gym have briefly been useless, does not mean that we are going to get booted out of our house a week too early, arrive at the airport to discover ALL FLIGHTS EVER have been cancelled or that our shipping will end up at the bottom of the sea somewhere but just now it sure as anything feels like it.

It was the best of weekends...it was the worst of weekends...

(Actually, that isn't fair. But it was a very contrasting weekend.)

Laaaaaaate on Thursday night (so much so that it was already an hour plus into Friday) my brother arrived from Sydney. Husbink was working nights at the time and so Friday morning was taken up with much needed sleep (and much creeping about on behalf while the men slept on...we really don't have enough rooms for guests!).

Anyhoo, after the brother woke up, we left Husbink sleeping a little longer while we went out in search of a marvellous kiwi brunch. We found it, we were happy. :)

Finally, Husbink was up-and-at-'em (actually I must say, Husbink managed to get up without all the prodding/shouting/bacon wafting that it usually takes to get him out of bed when he's just finished nights. I was extremely grateful and it was one of the things that really helped my weekend get off to a good start) and we could head away to Martinborough for three nights of relaxation, wine tasting, good meals at restaurants, wineries and the place we were staying (courtesy of us - my bro's bbq skills, my salad skills and Husbink's holding-it-all-together skills all came to the fore).

We cycled hither and thither - Saturday afternoon from winery to winery (we fitted in six); Sunday we cycled out of town and along a gravel road called "River End"...we thought we'd try to find the end of the river...it turned out to be a stagnant pool...rather disappointing but the cycle was still fun! Of course, the ride ended at a couple more wineries... This exercise *almost* justified a third of what we consumed over the weekend!

We found some spectacular wines and wineries - for anyone interested in experimenting with new wines, I'd advise some of the following (possible to track down in places in Australia, limited availability in the UK...so really, you should just come here and see for yourself...)

Alana Estate - has to be one of my favourite places in the world. Staff are welcoming, friendly, knowledgable (in a want to share their enthusiasm with you way rather than a hoity toity snooty way). Restaurant is also fantastic and the food and wine matches are done superbly. We are more than a little gutted to have left NZ before their summer concert series really kicks off.

Stonecutter - a new experience from this weekend, Stonecutter give the impression of making wine by accident, but it turns out rather superbly, especially their Syren Pinot Gris and regular Pinot Gris. I suspect rather more thought goes into it than they let on!

Tirohana - all round good stuff. Again, another winery that we had failed to visit on our previous excursions. Friendly staff, good wine and of course, with an ice wine on the books, I'm never going to be sad.

Haythornthwaite Wines - Possibly the most fun of the weekend, run by Susan (who was busy wrapping up wine for Christmas presents) and Mark (who was a lot of fun and very informative), Haythornthwaites produces some fantastic wines with a lot less pretention than they could justify considering the quality of the wine. I had been sent there by Alana on our first visit to Martinborough as Haythornthwaites is one of the few Martinborough wineries to produce a gewurtztraminer however they had always been closed until this time... Sadly, they had no gewurtz left...until I mentioned it for the sixth time, at which point Mark admitted he had three bottles out the back and could we twist his arm a little more? I haven't tasted it yet but I was rather chuffed to have acquired it! The rest of their wines were very pleasant and Mark made us taste their two pinot noirs alongside each other (young vines in the left hand glass, old vines in the right hand glass) which was very interesting.

Vynfields - Their wines don't amaze me, all fine but nothing wow. However, should you ever be in the area, it is a wonderful place to lose an afternoon. And they make very tasty platters to soak up a little of the alcohol. (They also don't seem to have a website of their own.)

Benfield & Delamare - a bizarre little place. The wines were fine, the staff eccentric!

Margrain - you aren't going to go wrong with a Margrain wine. Sadly, it seems they know that and their cellar door staff were worse than lacklustre. While other staff would have persuaded us to part with a lot of cash and lose an afternoon there (beautiful setting, pretty good food), they effectively shooed us away. Buy the wines, don't bother with a visit.

Martinborough Vineyard - probably Husbink's favourite in terms of the wines. Certainly the Te Tera Pinot Noir is something very special. Staff took a bit of thawing but we were quite late by that stage and I think they were getting bored of the tipsy Sunday avo hoards. We even went back on Monday morning to buy more. Definitely a label to look out for.

And finally, Ata Rangi - we didn't visit these guys this time, but their superb value rose still hits all the right spots!

So what could possibly have been the downside of this weekend? Horrific (yes, I'm aware I'm over using this word at the moment!) hayfever. In some respects, not the worst hayfever I've ever had, its persistent, red-eyed (no, I promise it wasn't just from the wine), tight-chested, blocked-nose, itchy-mouthed present put a certain dampener on the weekend. Not least because by this morning I was feeling so sleep deprived and cranky (add the "monthlies" and a bit of a hangover into the mix too) that all I wanted to do was kick my brother onto that plane, Husbink out the door to work and get some sleep. ON. MY. OWN.

I knew I'd regret it if I didn't make the most of absolutely every minute with my brother so tried my hardest to push on through. An apologetic text is still called for though!

I am now home alone and within the next few hours I intend/hope/pray I'll be sleeping like a baby.

(Confession: The picture is actually from our first trip to Martinborough, last January. We took a weekend off taking snaps, my bro doing a good line in finding comedy places to put his tiny-weeny-smaller-than-a-phone camera to take pics of all three of us. Once he's sent them through, I will enlighten you further...perhaps! The reason I felt a need to confess was because the weather wasn't quite so picture-perfect this weekend, but that actually worked quite well for all the cycling and boozing, at least we didn't add heat stroke to the reasons for dehydration!)

Mo-flamin'-vember

So I think I've done amazingly well to get over half way through Movember without ranting about it...but that show of amazing restraint and will power is now over.
Yes, it is for a good cause. Yes, it is a bonding experience for men all over the country (and I'm sure they could bond with the men in Australia too). But it is an awful, awful thing for a marriage!
The problem is, as I suspect I said around this time last year, is that a mo makes Husbink look like a dirty old man or a sleezy European car sales man or...many other not so flattering things...
And it is also rather painful. Little unsuspecting me who has momentarily forgotten that the monstrosity is there accepts a little peck from Husbink only to recoil in horror: "Ow! Ow! Ow! How did you manage to stab my nose with it?!"
As well as those issues that only relate to Husbink for me, it is just a little nauseating walking round town, the gym, the supermarket, anywhere at the moment. There are VERY few people in the world that suit a moustache and yet here are all these men with squirrels/rats/slugs/whatever attached to their faces. Many of the younger men can't actually grow much of a mo anyway and so you are left with this confusion as you talk to them. "Something isn't right, this person doesn't look like they normally do...oh, I see it, that little line of fuzz on their lip, affecting their entire look..."
Still, I'm sure they all enjoy it...!?!

Flurble

I have heaps of half-blogs floating round my head but I'm currently being distracted by silly fretting so I thought if I got this out of my head then I might manage more coherent thoughts...

A little while back I temped in a school for a few days. I really liked it and said I'd be happy to work there again. They then asked for me to be there officer manager type for 4-6 weeks while they found a replacement. Although I tend not to go for full time work, it fitted quite nicely so I thought I'd take it.

Today, having agreed and got it all sorted I got a revised job description... No longer is it office manager but reception/admin assistant... The wage remains the same, the hours remain the same (which are not the hours of the receptionist) but I am concerned that I'm going to get there and discover that really all I'm going to be doing for 4-6 weeks is reception work.

I've not done a vast amount of reception work but it's been enough to know that it really isn't my cup of tea. I can tolerate it for a few days...but 4-6 weeks? When I thought I was going to be doing an interesting job? I don't know...

BLEUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGH!

That is all.

Hormones. Grrr.

Or at least, that is what I like to blame my currently abysmal mood on. I imagine I should not be surprised after being chopped open and having had various of my more tender innards prodded and scraped and set free that my dear little chemicals have gone slightly doolally. But that doesn't make me any more pleased about it. Mostly, Husbink is catching the majority of the flack. However adverts are having a tough run of it too. This afternoon it was the radio advert that told me "more people use the yellow pages" - more than what?!!
This evening I have mostly just grumped in private as Husbink has been out carousing with work people. I suspect this is a good thing. I shall try to keep my thoughts to myself for the next few days...
(and then blogger had a hissy fit and crashed...that didn't help matters!)

Visas. They're not much fun.
I know I've been muttering about this off and on for a while, but today it has all become too much.
In April, we were told that to apply for an extension would be very simple, involve a two page form, possibly a medical for me but not Husbink (due to having had most of it done last time for working in a hospital. Not because they have strange sexist laws...) and all would be well.
So we put it on the back burner a little while we dealt with the house move and the surgery.
Whadda mistaka to make!
We discovered a few days before I went into hospital that the above information was false. We needed to complete the same huge form as last time (including the bit where Husbink writes a letter saying "yes, I do want my wife to stay with me") and we both need medicals. The medicals include a full check over by a nurse, then by a GP, then a chest x-ray (moderately expensive) and blood tests (if anything was going to induce me to swear on my blog, it would be the cost of the blood tests.) However, we managed to complete all that last Monday and the GP assured us it would take about 3 days from finishing the tests to our forms being completed.
So we gave them until Friday and rang to see how it was going. As I've previously mentioned, the receptionists aren't great so Husbink didn't get far over the phone. I fabricated an excuse to pop in (we had part of the form, perhaps they needed it back?). There was hope that it would all be finished today. But there was still questions over whether part of my form would be ok. There was a test that had already been repeated once and might need repeating again. And again. And again. The nurse would ring me back on Friday afternoon to tell me where we were up to with that.
She didn't.
But these things happen and I wasn't too worried about that. There was the agreement that either they would ring me or I would ring them on Monday to see where we were up to.
So about an hour ago, I did. The receptionists were, as ever, special and unhelpful. But I managed to leave a message for the nurse. Having spoken to her I have established that 1) she has no idea when the forms will be completed but will try to put pressure on the GP; 2) the bit of my test that might have needed repeating is sort of ok; 3) the blood test results that should have taken a matter of days to be returned are still not back. This is probably why the forms aren't complete - but they couldn't work that out on Friday!
The second thing is that we require our marriage certificate to show that we are indeed in a stable relationship. About 10 days ago, Husbink's mum posted it to us. A few days before that we had received something in the post that Mr & Mrs SD had posted three days previously so I felt quite confident of the postal abilities between home and here. Ha!
Still it has not arrived. And despite the fact that my m-i-l sent it registered, it can only be tracked to having left England. How useful!
We had been hoping to go the the immigration office tomorrow. We won't be. Our trip to Sydney in August is ebbing away from us and that makes me very sad. Very, very sad.
Thank you for bearing with me...rant over...

Hmm, I don't like that.

So, I started a post the other day. Saved it. Went back to it. Entirely re-wrote it. Entirely. And yet, it has published it under the previous date. Growl. This does not amuse me. So if you've got any interest in reading said mystery post it is UNDER "Rugby". I'm sure there must be a way round this (I don't need lectures on the subject though, ta) but I can't be bothered to look for it, I'd just like a nice big grump thank you very much. ;)