Wednesday, 9 July 2014


That was a close call. My Mac decided to hibernate for winter last evening. It hasn't liked the cold, a tropical flower much like myself really. I've noticed, after the spectacular crash in Croatia, that my poor Mac has never quite been the same. It could be the cold, it could be being miffed that I bought a sort of replacement in Vienna. A pale imitation of a Mac this iPad thing. Not quite meeting my real needs although I do use it to potter around on.

So last evening the crash, this evening coaxing the poor old Mac to life was heart stopping. It reset back to 2001, it's not that old. I hope. Then there was no Internet so that was a whole reset process, finding and reentering my codes and password. Thankfully it worked, thankfully here I am writing on said Mac, on the Internet. All is okay in my world.

The funny thing is that a funny thing happened at work yesterday and I was opening up the Mac to write about it, and the trip it was part of. I don't feel so inspired now. I do, however, feel like a bit of a domestic goddess. Only a bit. I baked this evening, glass in hand while waiting for my roasties to roast. Yams (or little boys toes as we used to call them when there were little boys), parsnips, kumara, pumpkin, potatoes. Roasted comfort food for a chilly evening, music blasting. The blueberry muffins turned out wonderfully, unexpectedly yummy. The 12 became 11. Quality control.

Tomorrow I've got an early start and muffins will be the order of the day for us early starters. This whole winter thing is not too much fun. I'm feeling the cold, it's too cold to sail, well for me anyway. Gloves are on in the morning, two extra heaters have been purchased. An electric blanket is in constant use. I'm not really built for the cold, I need more fat on my bones one kind soul said today. It's been a really mild winter so far, they added. I didn't do them any violence, just smiled benignly while shrinking inside.

Not yet cold, mild winter. Well that is truly true when one considers how cold it's been in my old part of this place. Minus something and snow. I just need to harden up a little before I head there in a week or so. I've got some trips booked. Christchurch, Brisbane, Melbourne one weekend after another. I'm excited, Melbourne is my birthday weekend. The one I usually spend doing something completely different. This year it's family time. Meeting Frankie Beth for the first time is most certainly different, the true beginning of a wonder life long relationship. I can't wait.

So yesterday we were talking about Irish accents, I love them and there's a cute young man a few floors above us who speaks Irish. He was the object of our affection for all things Irish. Kate commented that her husband is Irish too, from Limerick. So the limericks flowed.

I got stung by bee
While driving through Tralee
The bugger flew in
I went into a spin
And killed the bugger, bugger me

This one, or something quite like it, made Kate giggle, with the other two people in the lift looking on in amazement. Trying not to giggle I suspect, although I didn't look too closely. We don't work in the sort of place where one has fun in the lift, or anywhere else for that matter.

Actually that really did happen. I giggled with relief, once the bugger stopped stinging me, at the bee in Tralee thing. He got me on the neck then ended up, not quite dead, in one of my pashminas. Imagine my surprise when I arrived at my hotel in Shannon and he flew, dazed, out the open window of my room. I needed a wee drop of something by then.

I had a lovely drive around the south of Ireland. Part of the hilarity today was about how I didn't get lost, managing to get myself around various places in the world all by myself, because I took Kate to completely the wrong place for a meeting. Twice. Don't tell her I did get lost, a lot. Part of the fun of the journey and the start of some of my finest adventures.

The white houses of Dingle Peninsula

Wild southern ocean, Dingle

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