FAB evening at Searle Lane and Social on Thursday - clever girls Sonia Ross and Lani Arnott have started an online fashion company, www.preciouspeg.com, stocking Kate Sylvester, Stolen Girlfriends, Zambesi and New Zealand's other top designers.
It was so much fun with a huge crowd swilling Champagne and watching some gorgeous clothes floating past on glamorous models.
They all looked terrific but that little Louise Oxnevad ... infuriating when someone can be a champion tennis player and skier and then turn into a supermodel at night. Just stunning. No wonder her parents are so proud.
I wish I had read the invitation properly to realise it was a fashion website launch instead of turning up in my usual-not-exactly-fashionable outfit.
I had a good excuse - I have been playing nursey for the last couple of weeks. Our 20-year-old had a knee op and it nearly all went well apart from him getting a clot in his leg. I may well have mentioned it before but there is something most irritating about a healthy male lying on the sofa watching TV even if his leg is every colour and horribly swollen.
He's been getting a lot of important jobs done though, like ringing Sky TV to find out why our TV never works when it rains. He had to pretend to be the man of the house but I was not sure they would have been convinced when he yelled out, "Mum, what's our pin number?".
Did not sound much like a 61-year-old man to me.
Anyway, only two weeks of being intensely irritated and soon I will join my darling in Fiji where he has been escaping the foul weather.
My darling said he only married me for my youthful figure and my sympathetic bedside manner but they've both long gone. I still feel sympathetic for him, I mean, who wouldn't? But the bedside manner is now just a thump when the snoring threatens to deafen me.
Ever on the hunt for an excuse to escape my nursey role, I went to the Arrowtown Village Association meeting to listen to the mayoral candidates and Arrowtown ones. Apart from being accused by Simon Hayes of being the target audience for an old people's home, it was a little bit interesting.
What was especially interesting was that all the people I hear whingeing and whining about the council weren't at the meeting, and they aren't standing either. Seriously, if you think you could do a better job, then you jolly well should have put yourself forward. And at least go and listen to what's being said.
Good on all those candidates who have been brave enough to stand. I must say though, with the amount of debt we have got now, and as the rates have risen 71% in the last nine years, it's not going to be an easy ride. Thank you, you brave people!
My comment about NZ Post's rural delivery seems to have struck a chord with a lot of you. Send me in your stories about NZ Post's woeful service and I might send them a nice collection for their comments.
I love our local post office staff but the policies that waft down from head office are infuriating - sending our local mail to Dunedin to be sorted (should that read mis-sorted?). A child could have thought up better sorting systems.
Children are so smart and I love being with them.
My absolutely delicious nephews were round at my house for a bear hunt the other day. We found three. Over and over and over again. Behind the curtains, behind the sofas, in the wood cupboard. An absolute plague of them. Unbelievably thrilling hunting bears when you are a pre-schooler. My friend Ali's grandson from Singapore came as well, but he was more interested in seeing our chickens.
He especially wanted to look at a chicken's bottom to see eggs coming out.
Needless to say, none of the chickens obliged, but he did find an egg in a nesting box and Ali was brave enough to let the egg sleep in his bed that night.
And I finally got to meet the most beautiful and intelligent granddaughter in the world. She is Mia Gracie - the famous Motogrill Motogirl.
I may not be much good at knitting, but playing Scrabble ... quite different.
I think it is important to tell you that in a game of Scrabble this week, I got 111 points in one go. I was only playing against a very callow youth on crutches (my son) and a simple pensioner (my mother) but still ... I am quite amazing. Hope they aren't still bitter and twisted about it. In fact, I do not care. I'm simply fabulous.
Reading has been such a mixed bag lately that I was delighted to rediscover by sheer chance an old favourite.
It's by Rudyard Kipling and called BaaBaa Black Sheep. It's his memory of being sent from India as a very little boy to board with a horrible family. There are other stories in the collection but this is the best.
Poppy Llewellyn says I have to read Room, by Emma Donoghue. It sounds ghastly but gripping, a bit like that weird Austrian guy who locked his daughter and her children by him in the basement for all those years.
Hideous.
Hope your weekend and life is lacking any hideous times.
