We seem to be back to spring again with only my blackened tomato plants left as evidence of last week's snow and frosts.
Some people loved the snow, especially my friend's Colombian nephew who had never seen it before. I took him up to Coronet Peak to slide around on a bin liner and it was hard to remember he was 25, not 5, as he shrieked and giggled at it all.
And on the subject of things snowy and Colombian, I read a fascinating article by Joel Meares in the Sydney Weekend Herald recently.
"Intelligent cocaine user" is an oxymoron. Look up this article online and see for yourself. I know people who fuss about organic food and cleaning products in the interests of health, and then go and take cocaine. Funnily enough, they are the ones who moan about crime and all the other social malaise in New Zealand as well. Mmmm... Interesting.
Instead of making do with those oh-so-fake chemical induced laughs, try laughter yoga for full-on, bladder-testing hysteria. Kristin de Haan is this month's yoga teacher at Lululemon in Shotover St. She takes a straight Hatha class at 8.30am on Saturday and then at 10am. She is doing laughter yoga in the gardens if it's fine or at Lululemon if it's not.
Laughter yoga is so weird. You feel ridiculously self-conscious and phoney at first, but all of a sudden you can't stop. It feels terrific, and although a little nerve-wracking for the mildly incontinent, it is meant to keep you young and happy and wrinkle-free.
He's none of those (well, he is pretty happy, but then who wouldn't be with such a lovely daughter?) and he's 80 today.
My dear old Dad, the old hypocrite who preaches moderation and long, careful deliberation before rushing into things. Please remember this is the same rash fool who picked up a foreign barmaid in a London pub, gave her the papers and authority to collect his brand new car, asked her to marry him as soon as she arrived in Malta with aforementioned car now damaged, married in secret in Tunis, and invited all their friends to a Roman orgy in Malta to celebrate their wedding.
From there he dragged the barmaid round the world, getting her pregnant and producing babies in almost every country they lived in with reckless disregard for the world's overpopulation.
Anyway, well done, Dad, and happy, happy birthday!
I'm still grumpy about not being at the big travel writers' conference in Wellington this week. I looked up online to see how to enrol and would happily have lied through my back teeth about my skills and experience (practically nil), but found it impossible to prove that I was North American and also didn't know two members of the association who would perjure themselves on my behalf.
Darnit.
Nearly as good was meeting Charlie and Mary Love who were going to it. Hmmm, now I do know two members ...
They were on the first trip to New Zealand and loving Queenstown, but were doing that crazy thing people do when they see New Zealand on the map - it looks tiny - surely you can see it all in a fortnight. They publish a magazine called Charleston Style and Design, a bit like our Life and Leisure but about Charleston, and it looks terrific.
I think we can safely expect a lot of visitors from South Carolina soon. And goodness knows, we need more visitors in town - it seems so very quiet everywhere at the moment.
I got lots of suggestions for books for men (thank you to everyone who emailed me), and two that surprised and delighted me were from two big readers, Roger Tompkins and Richard Mehrtens.
The Sweet Second Life of Darrell Kincaid, by very clever Catherine Robertson.
Once I read this funny tale of young Kiwi widow heading to London to escape her grief and saw how much (very much!) sex and swearing goes on, I began to understand Roger's enthusiasm for it (for the book, not just sex and swearing, but who knows?). It would make a great movie with its larger than life characters.
Richard recommended The Forgotten Highlander, by Alistair Urquhart. It sounds so dreadful - lovely young Scottish soldier gets sent to Singapore in World War 2 and returns home six years later weighing 87 pounds.
I'm nervous about not reminding some of you - you know who you are - about upcoming events.
So here it is.
Next week is the Trailblazer, so enrol online right now.
And don't forget that Holly Shervey's art auction is on in Dunedin next week. She just sent me through the images of all the paintings - there's a particularly desirable "James Bond" that I have my eye on.
Email her on hollyshervey@gmail.com.
