A short list for today...

Little things that bring me joy on a Monday...

Peonies

The aroma of fresh coffee in the early morning

Spring sunshine through the curtains

A pile of clean laundry

Mindless gazing at a favourite painting

A cat basking in a corner of the garden

Knocking 6 jobs off the list by 10am

Little things that give me the irrits on a Monday...

Speed bumps on a full bladder

Dust and pollen laden gales

Queues

Maybe yes, maybe no (maybes in general)

A boat with wheels..

I was back in NZ in March and spent a day hanging around my old haunts - Cheltenham beach in Devonport is always a fave, a lovely, sheltered bay looking out over Rangitoto Island. The tide was very low, a few people had waded out towards the channel and were flying kites over the water, a couple of mums were walking their baby buggies along the sand and a lovely old lady with saggy tights sat on the bench beside me for a chat.

And then this strange contraption chuntered up from the channel and into the shallows. It stopped at the margin where the shallows began, rolled down some wheels and drove up onto the beach.  A couple of guys hopped out, walked around and inspected the boat, talked a while and then jumped back in and drove back into the drink.

I know I'm not very maritime, but I had never seen this before and find it quite ingenius. Are these boats commonplace?  What a great idea...I want one....

The Road to Hay

The Hay on Wye literary festival is fast approaching. And a small group of us are heading up this year accompanied by one energetic child and one bouncy dog. After some angst, we managed to book a cottage on the River Wye, where I stayed 3 years ago - no mean feat in the last minute scramble for accom that is Hay...

I have been Ticketmeister this year.  And looking back now, maybe I could have done this better. As it is, I have managed to book an eclectic mix of events - more low brow than highbrow I think.

On the high brow side, is VS Naipaul - a special request from my very gorgeous and literary PR/journo 'sista'.

Mid brow we are looking at Henning Mankell of Wallendar fame. I am completely immersed in twisted Scandi crime fiction right now, so that was my special treat. I will also put Brian Cox in the mid brow range - this reflects my own personal conflict between the Wonders of the Universe and the Wonders of Brian Coxs' boyish grin (bum).

After that I slip into the Low brow celeb zone. Yes, Rob Lowe - it must be done if you were alive and kicking in the eighties. Followed by Nigella Lawson - well, I am a bakey cakey kind of gal. And Paul O'Grady who is just a laugh, although I may donate those tickets to my accompanying boy pals who may get more out of it than me...

So, once more into bunfight that is Hay in festival. Am packing a squishy fold up bag for book purchases. And an emergency box for the cottage - good red wine, OK wine, whatever has been sitting in the booze cupboard untouched for the last year, good coffee, paracetamol, something stronger than paracetamol (just in case), and cornflakes/DVDs and dog treats/chew toy to keep the younger and bouncier members of our party quiet in the morning.....

Garden Fever

Loving the garden right now.  Especially loving the newly painted and willow screened fence, painted shed, new irrigation system and impending shingle/paved path. Is there such a thing as 'finishing' the garden? It's been a long slog getting there...

The thing I love about the garden is it's unpredictability. It changes a bit every year, even with all my planning and scheming.  This year has seen an overly generous germination of seeds (what can I do with 4 dozen tomato plants??), the lupins have disappeared but the giant poppies are taking over like Triffids. The pear tree, which had a bumper crop last year, looks like a bit of a fizzer for 2011, while the blueberry and raspberries are finally hitting their stride.  And the strawberries have aggressively invaded the barked areas under and around the clothes line and are settling in like a band of Travellers...

So.  Loving the garden. Not so much the sneezing and itchy eyes that have also arrived in a week of dry windy weather. Garden fever indeed. However, I find an antihistamine complements my gin and tonic nicely as I swan around plucking wild strawberries, stripping aphids off the roses and kicking bark chips off the lawn (the pesky blackbirds are very messy fossickers - and my girlie lawnmower doesn't do timber).

So roll on Summer.  And a respite from these Spring sneezes....

Not a fluff head...

OK. Dandelion Daze. Not so much about vacuous, disordered thinking.  More about the fact that I am struck by an endless well of thoughts, observations and ideas, that if not recorded, drift off into the ether. I'm not sure that there will be a cohesive thread to this blog, but let's see where it goes.

Todays topic is the Royal Wedding. In fact, not so much the Royal Wedding per se, but the enormous crowds that camped out, queued and crushed themselves up against the barriers to view it.  Why?  I got a much better view at home on the telly.

There is too much media and marketing hype about the 'event' and 'being there'. When I think back to my last couple of visits to the O2 arena (bring your oxygen tank and binoculors with you - you'll be tucked in under the roof) and the proliferation of music festivals (be there or be square), we are encouraged to congregate together in enormous crowds to be 'part of the experience'.

Frankly, crowds of my fellow humanity give me a rash. I love people, but more one on one or in small groups.  Get me in a crowd and I start stressing about where the toilets are, or the water vendors, or how I'm going to get to the car park afterwards, let alone actually get out of it. I don't want to be on my feet for 7 hours, or squished into a seat designed for an 10 year old. I like my space. I like to stretch my legs or take a load off when I feel like it. I don't want to be lodged in some sweaty blokes armpit, or behind a tall man or a medium sized woman with a large hat.

But big crowds mean money and there is an inevitable momentum. If they promote the throngs attending or the run on tickets, we feel that maybe we're missing out on something, and join the queue - we're turning into a nation of sheep. And the ticket prices just keep spiralling upwards....

Me? I'll be staying home this summer. Or going to small venues.  Or watching the big stuff on the trusty flatscreen - with friends perhaps. I have a great imagination. I'll just shut my eyes and think myself there....