Book review for The Colour of Magic by Terry Pratchett

Today I am remembering the conscripts and the young folk duped into thinking war would be a great adventure. I'm remembering those who didn't come back and those who came back hurt and broken in mind and body. I am remembering civilian casualties and victims of 'friendly fire' and the children who stumble onto minefields. I'm thinking of everyone who lost a child or a parent, a friend or a lover. I'm thinking of those who have been, or still are, held as prisoners of war and those in concentration camps and internment camps. I'm thinking of the conscientious objectors who have been punished harshly for their pacifism. I'm thinking of those who have lost their homes and their livelihoods, who have gone without food and clothing in times of war. So much sorrow and loss and so very little that is glorious.

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Today marks a year of the children's school being located in Halswell. There was supposed to be a celebration with our school, the associated high school and the school that we are all sharing space with. Organisational failure meant nothing much happened. That's ok - its not really something I wish to celebrate. I know it's a good thing that the kids have a space to learn in, that our school still exists at all but I miss our central city location so much. I hate being stuck out where there is nothing within walking distance. We used to walk to the library, the museum, the park and the pool. The kids used to think it was the funniest thing in the world to cut through the men's underwear in Ballantynes on the way back to school after a morning on the river bank. We still get out and about but it's so much harder. All sorts of things that happened organically due to our central location and open plan building now only happen due to conscious effort. It's exhausting. I miss how easy it was for me to be in and out of school too. I miss being able to go bra shopping on my own or meet a friend for coffee. It's been a year and there's still no plan for moving back to the city. No date, no site, no news. I don't want to be used to the suburbs.

I've been feeling particularly fragile lately. There are Reasons but I hate when I'm this wallowy and self-absorbed. This is the closest to Not OK I've been for a very long while. I know that if I plough on through I'll get my perspective back but I'm really not at my lovely best right now.

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As those who have been following on Facebook and Twitter have already heard at great length the last couple of weeks have been pretty shit.

Three Monday's ago (I think) we found our much loved cat Boadecia collapsed on the floor. She was elderly and diabetic so we had little hope as Jamie made the midnight dash to the after hours vet. Her blood glucose was very low but after some time on a drip she improved and for the best part of a week looked like she might recover. As time went on though she ate and drank less and less and the vet diagnosed renal failure. Anything we could have done to prolong her life would have been very short term and purely for our own benefit so we made the agonising decision to help her go peacefully. We got Boadecia and her sister Thalia, as tiny kittens, almost exactly 14 years ago, only eight months into Jamie's and my relationship. A house without her in it doesn't feel like any kind of home.

A few hours before Boadecia collapsed (although I didn't learn of it until the morning) my father also collapsed with a heart rate so low he was having seizures. After a stay in ICU it was determined that he needed a pacemaker. Because he was on Warfarin he had to wait several days in hospital before surgery so I left Jamie with the kids and the ailing cat and went up to Nelson to help. By the time I got there Dad wasn't looking too bad but Mum was still very stressed so my job was to cheer, distracted and talk her down. Fortunately dad's surgery went well and he was home with a glass of wine that evening. He's doing really well and is already able to walk further than he has in quite some time.

And while this was all going on we had to pack up our house for the builders to come in and repair our earthquake damage. We severely underestimated the effort required to pack up six and a half years of accumulated detritus and failed to ask for enough help (and what little we did have lined up fell through) then everything caught up with me and I had a very poor mental health day (not a racing off for meds level issue but a definite need for extra care of myself) so had to be quite picky about the tasks I took on. Poor Jamie landed up working through the night but everything got sorted and now we're living in a motel while half our walls and ceilings are replaced.

Finally we are able to stop for a moment. We're fitting a whole school holiday's worth of stuff that isn't packing into this last week: movies, swimming, friends, and the Buskers Festival. It's helping and I'm slowly starting to feel less brittle. I'm hoping that we've got the worst bits of the year over with early - eventually something has to be easy, right?

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For the first time in ages we have two different types of gin in the house, Tanqueray (which we often buy) and my birthday bottle of, NZ produced, Lighthouse. Obviously a side-by-side tasting was in order. "if you blog about it you could call it a public service" said Jamie. Bless the man for his enabling ways.

I started with sniffing each bottle. The lighthouse was sharp and spicy while the Tanqueray smelled softer with a hint of perfume. Sampled neat the Lighthouse became citrussy and the Tanqueray tasted much as it smelled only sharper.

I poured two small gin and tonics with a 1:3 ratio, one slice of lemon and a novelty ice cube in each. The Tanqueray had surprisingly little scent at this stage but the Lighthouse had a pronounced aroma of lemon. The first sip of Lighthouse was definitely lemony with a slight floral hint, maybe roses. Further drinking revealed flavours of wood and nutmeg. The Tanqueray was perfumy on first sip and the tonic was rather more prominent than with the Lighthouse. The aftertaste was spicy.

Both gins made pleasant drinks. The Lighthouse has much more complex flavours. It makes a good g&t and probably an excellent martini but I suspect could be overpowering in some cocktails. Tanqueray has a more traditional gin flavour, subtler and less sweet than Lighthouse but satisfying and versatile. I am fighting the urge to buy more kinds of gin to repeat this delicious experiment with.

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The New Lifeform

By Crispin

Once upon a time in a lunchbox that felt like it had been left for centuries but was actually only a few months, a new, strange lifeform emerged from the peanut butter and jam sandwich with a pop. He looked like a cross between a lumpy bogey and a small worm with breadcrumbs in it and half of him was purply-red and the other half was browny-grey.  He decided that his life’s goal was to get out of his Lunch Box Prison.

First he wriggled out of the Endless Sandwich Bag but there were still two obstacles left: the Bottomless Chasm and the Impossible Zipper. He thought for a while and then his whole body lit up (he was vaguely lightbulb shaped) and he pushed the Endless Sandwich Bag into the Chasm (he was very strong for a new lifeform) and then he started to pile up the Food Boxes to make a bridge. Soon he was done and he wiggled across.

Now he was at the last and hardest obstacle: the Impossible Zipper. He thought for a while and then he decided and he knew it would hurt. He nipped a bit of his tail off and used it to rust a bit of the Zipper. At last he could wiggle through. On the outside he met others of his kind and made a family.

To be continued…