From the Sublime to the Ridiculous

I’m going to give up listening to the news. I was feeling so good and then I wasn’t. I’m such a stupid, simple soul who thinks if men just stopped being wankers over territory and religion we’d all be fine. I mean territory of all sorts, treating their wives and children like chattels, thinking they can “own” everything- animals, the environment, land. If they just stopped punching someone because they were wearing a cute cat tee shirt (this happened to some poor tourist in Takapuna) and as for religion, don’t get me started.

These guys object to homosexuality and transgender?????? What about cross dressing?

In the Scandinavian countries men are fined if they employ prostitutes. Quite right I reckon, if they didn’t create the demand there wouldn’t be any. Please don’t tell me women choose the “profession”. The average age for death of a prostitute is 50. Mostly I believe it is from suicide.


Anyway, back to knitting, I’m such a lightweight, it’s all I want to think about. My friend and I were having a bit of a laugh the other day. We were a mini knitting circle but our needles were at opposite ends of the range. It looked pretty funny. Her needles are 25mm and mine are 3.75.

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If at first you don’t succeed, try 8 times and then give up. That was my motto trying to follow a lacy scarf pattern. I finally chucked in the towel and learnt the one- row pattern lacy scarf stitch. Even then I made a mistake and couldn’t unpick it. I was experimenting with one ball of alpaca I have left over. It just made a tiny neckerchief but it is surprisingly warm and handy.

It’s not hard to spot the mistake.

It hasn’t been the greatest of weeks as I had a run in with a truck. I was driving merrily to work listening to Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert. (It is great that the audio is already available in the library as it has only just been published. Thanks, library) and the two lanes of heavy traffic broke in to three as we neared the motorway on ramp. I thought there was plenty of room for me to ease slowly into that third lane. Turns out there wasn’t and my car is pretty badly damaged. It is a shock to the system when a window explodes just after breakfast on the way to work. The glass filled my handbag, the seat and some of it landed on me. I didn’t know what to do as I was stuck in the stream of traffic and wasn’t even sure the truckie knew.

Uh oh…

I reported this to the police after I got off at the nearest exit and after I took my car to a panel beater. However, I was a bit shaken to get a call from the police on Saturday where I was reprimanded for not stopping. I just couldn’t see where I could stop and as the lane the truck was in could also go straight ahead I had no idea where he was.  Anyway, be warned everyone, you must stop regardless of holding up the morning rush hour traffic.

Rather than getting all agitated, I tried to use my mindfulness techniques as there isn’t much point in worrying about it now and no-one was hurt, except for my car of course.

There’s much pleasure to be had in the small world anyway, if you don’t think too hard about the rest. Yesterday I participated in the Whau festival at the poetry reading in the library and tonight as part of the same festival I’m going to Poetry Kai to read a couple more. It was especially great to hear Janet Charman read her work.

Janet Charman:

snowing down south

warm breath
breathed out of
our bodies
into the overnight air
and condensed to
an ice crust
on the glass

with a sodden mitten tip
push plates
of glitter lace
across the surface
to make an opening
where the ghost price of
home kill veal 4/6 is

showing that
in an earlier
our kitchen
was a butcher shop

we knew there was a colder place



Check out all the free events here.

I was disappointed to learn that my house isn’t going to be ready for Christmas and it now looks like end of Jan even the beginning of Feb. I’m hoping it is like birth and it will all be worth the wait. The cladding is going on and the painting should start next week.

IMG 4082And all those little fake people really will be standing around under my umbrella having a drink. I’m hoping the guy with the barbecue comes with it.


Here’s the ridiculous bit…


Here’s the sublime…

Have a great week, FG


One Reply to “From the Sublime to the Ridiculous”

  1. ah Sue – yes you can think about’ what if’ – for ‘as long as’ and ‘now’ just sneaks up on you and leaves you for dead! Yes men have their snarky little ways – but I think about Margaret Thatcher and it all goes out the window. We can’t dream up the plot of real life – alas.

    I can’t listen to the writing of others while I drive – I learned early on that I just fall into a trance and sometimes to sleep (I was fortunately alone on the road to Te Anau) But I look forward to the real book – hold in my hand – out of the library.

    Crap about the house, Crap about the car, Good about the knitting – gorgeous and warm and worth while.

    Talk soon – if no house come down and stay with me for a while. Just got turned down for a mortgage that is less than 40% the value of my house – not enough income – ah well!! Time for Plot B – needing Juxtaposition and causality – perhaps I should advertise.


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