Spotted near the Mt Vic lookout.
I dunno about the Greater Wellington guys, but I reckon the Wellingtonista could have put all this information on one sign – the only differnce between the two is the name of the poison, and the colour of the pellet.
It’s a few minutes to 6pm on a Thursday night, a motley group are making their way along the Terrace to the St Andrew’s Church Hall. Inside, there are already a dozen or so people in casual attire. These are the "Advanced Class" who came at 5pm. Many of them stay on after their class to help and coach the "Beginners" who are arriving for their session with teacher Michael Harris. The beginners don’t come too early, because watching the advanced practise is very discouraging.
This is Thursday night dancing.
Every 8 weeks a new beginners class commences. Last night was the second session of the latest term, and already we’re old hands at the Clap Dance and foxtrot. We’re new hands at Rock ‘n Roll. Next week, God knows what fresh humilations await.
Old hands have expressed delight that this term’s intake is almost equal numbers of men & women. This means the more advanced women don’t have to dance as men so much. Men never have to dance as women.
The class begins with a simple warmup in the form of the "Clap Dance". This is because after every few steps, a lusty clap is required, before tippy-tapping back in towards your partner to bump hips. On the off chance you manage to connect without dislocating your partner’s hips, you get an encouraging comment from Michael. Me? After learning the next stage of the tippy-tapping, which involves a spin and a clap, I found myself about 10 metres away from my partner & having to sprint back in from across the room to attempt my "bump".
Ahem … climbs up onto soapbox. I have something to say about the Botanic Gardens, the Council & Garden staff & some of the people who go there.
1. To the Wgtn City Council & Garden staff:
Let’s have a little competition – the NZ Retirement Commissioner, Diana Crossan, says she’s wanted a change of name for the Commission for several years, but no-one has coined a suitable name.
Waiting for God, and The Golden Years were suggested at Select Committee, but rejected (Un. Be. Lievable.)
We’ll think of a prize as we go along, maybe a bag of Kapiti Macadamia nuts, I’m sure we can lay our hands on one of those.
So have at it in the comments, we’re looking for the best suggested new name for the Do Not Go Gently Into That Good Night Commission, the winning label will be forwarded to Ms Crossan.
Judges decisions are final & not to be questioned.
On my way home the other night, I happened to walk past a young woman & man sitting on a grass verge at the Botanic Gardens. The woman was, I think, recounting a friend’s Valentine’s Day experience. Here’s what I made out:
… halfway through dinner, the guy asks, "What’s your policy on sex on the first date?"
And she says, "Never".
And so then the guy says, (and she gave a hearty & throaty laugh at this point) "In that case, I refuse to pay for dinner…"
She was still laughing and grasping for the next words when I passed out of earshot. But I was impressed already, and my interest was piqued – like where were they? Had the guy picked a lovely eating house of a quality he thought guaranteed some energetic post-prandial exertion? Or what? And is there a place in town so fantastic, your date’s knickers dissolve somewhere between the entree & dessert? If there is, I would have expected the Masked Barfly to have reported back already.
Or should the guy maybe invest his precious funds more pragmatically in future, in someone more likely to deliver? Like a hooker.
Anyone know what’s going on at the moment? There seems to be (forgive me my scorn) bad 80s covers (Rhythm of the Night as I type this) being blasted accross the road so loud we can hardly hear ourselves think. Owooo Owooo.
If we needed this, we’d have Mamma Mia (the sing along version natch) blasting from the Wellingtonista Home Theatre. Owoo owoo
But we don’t. Because we don’t. Owoo.
Two of Wellington’s leaders are backing debate on a user-pays water system to reduce Wellingtonians’ reckless consumption – now more than twice the national average.
Apparently we’re using about 400 litres of water per day, per person.
The bulk of it gets flushed away.
And one answer, to drive the correct behaviour of course, rather than make you behave as "they" want you to, is to install water meters on homes & charge for the usage. Just like Auckland.
Kind of makes that 6 litre per minute shower head that Nanny was going to make us get, attractive.
There are pluses & minuses to this plan & we’d love to hear what you think in the comments
Full story here.
Just a couple of last minute reminders.
First, somewhere in town there’s rumoured to be a bunch of boobs on bikes heading toward Parliament. Expect gratuitous nudity, ogling & who knows what once they get to the Beehive.
Secondly, please do remember to haul yourself out of the house tomorrow & vote. It’s your civic duty. And I want some serious entertainment to watch tomorrow night.
Also, if anyone’s still sitting on a nucular strike for one party, candidate or another, now is the time to reveal it with a flourish & an evil "Mouahaha!"
Tulips, tours, art, "Crafty Fifi", the legendary Fairy Trina and more at this year’s Spring Festival in the Botanic Gardens. Running from 28 September until 12 October. I can confirm that the recent (and typical for this time of year) gales have not denuded the tulip gardens & so weather permitting, Tulip Sunday on the first day of the Festival, should be a beautiful way to spend an hour or two communing with nature. According to the official programme:
Spring Festival is the time to revel in the glorious riot of spring flower colour and fragrance at the Wellington Botanic Garden.
Spring Festival is proudly brought to you by Wellington City Council, with generous support from the New Zealand Community Trust and the Wellington Cable Car.
Looking for a good steak in Wellington? A week or so ago this Wellingtonista was & after consulting my colleagues, I can report back on two of the finest steaks I have tasted in this city (yes, two).
First up, it was one of those notable occasions (although not a significant one) that prompts thoughts of a nice lunch and/or dinner.
First off lunch:
I had expressed to my loved ones, a particular desire to sample either a great steak, or a great cassoulet.
So imagine my delight on arriving at Copita to find they had “Fillet steak on a bed of Cassoulet”! It was meant to be obviously.
It was lovely, as was the squid entree.
Copita itself was quite underpatronised that day, but there was some sport to be had listening to a very loud party consisting of two older gentlemen lunching with two much younger women. Because they were so loud we soon ascertained the gentlemen were winemakers from the Hawkes Bay. It wasn’t obvious who the women were, but we decided that if the women paid, they were probably wine distribution reps, and if the men paid, hookers. As it happens, we left before them so we’ll never know!
And onto dinner:
We decided to take the tip from the team & try the Steak Frites at Le Metropolitain in Cuba St. This was served with a red wine & bone marrow sauce & we accompanied it with a green salad & copious glasses of a French wine whose name I can’t recall.
And once again, I can recommend a winner!
Le Metropolitain on this evening was well patronised but not packed, in addition, it’s a lovely little spot to watch passers by from. The staff were attentive & informative, the menu offered plenty of variety & the evening was a rousing success.
I’m happy to take any other decent steak recommendations for next year, in the comments.