Milford Sound waterfall

Vicky

Jill and Niamh

Each print is 50 centimeters square, framed and signed.

I wasn’t sure how to price them so I leaned more towards affordable. I’ve always wanted to exhibit my photographs so this opportunity is exciting. You can see more of my work on Flickr.

Wish me luck!

She’s 18 years old, irritable and set in her ways. She has a routine and I must follow it, or she roams the hallway crying like a banshee. It’s pretty cute.

The tips of her ears were cut off because of skin cancer. She doesn’t shed hair, she molts. And sometimes she smells like urine.

I’ve been tweeting about my days with the cat for the last three weeks.

As her days are limited I try to make her happy. I hope she lasts until this Thursday, which is my last day housesitting.

They told me you wouldn’t need to do this. But I don’t believe them!

This is the correct RSS feed: http://feeds2.feedburner.com/JefWeg

Stink!

“And that’s when I learnt about castrating and docking sheep¹,” I said. “The poor little guys. It looks painful.”

“I know the feeling. You know between the two of us there’s a total of three testicles,” he said.

“…”

“Are you suggesting that I only have one testicle?”

“No, I’m assuming you’re a healthy male,” he said.

“What happened? Did you leave a sharpened pencil in your pocket?”

“No, I had cancer.”

“…”

“Well at least you can sympathize with being castrated, I guess.”

“True. It’s painful. Maybe next time I’ll say I left a sharpened pencil in my pocket. That’s funnier.”

_{1. To dock a sheep is to cut off its tail.}

The time: Sometime after coffee but before lunch.

The chief offender: Rod Drury.

§

My phone receives a text message:

“We will probably go to drink around 4. Do you have a lot of work today?”

I look at my phone. It’s sitting on my desk. As my hand moves from the keyboard to the phone, time slows. From out of nowhere, Rod swoops down like an eagle, and within a jiff his talons dig into the guts of my phone, lifting it off my desk.

I see his index finger slide across the surface. He has successfully unlocked my iPhone.

His fingers work it over. He responds:

“It’s Jeff’s boss¹ here. He works until 5.”

Slave driver. The nerve! To think I have to work all day.

At least the message was innocent. I thought an iPhone was a full-proof mechanism against Rod. I guess not. The rumors are true — His fingers are in all the pies.

Now if I leave early he’s going to notice!

_{1. Not only is he the boss, he is the CEO of Xero}

Tough life.

I could only watch the surfers because I’m just a beginner. Those waves look small but they’re easily 12 feet high. I saw a man’s surfboard snap it half.

Some other remarkable memories from my three week vacation:

• a street peddler attempted to sell me tickets to a shooting range where I could fire “real guns”
• a customs official asked if I brought marmite. I asked if it was illegal, and she said, “No, I just don’t like the stuff. Yuck.”
• some Hawaiians are fat. Bigger than midwestern fat. I think their island genes compound the fatty foods
• a stranger gave me a lift, and I asked him what to see in O’ahu. He said, “I don’t know. I usually drink with my friends. It’s safer that way.” I didn’t ask
• my parents and I saw lava flow into the ocean at Volcano National Park

I mostly slept in the sun. It was so warm…

“A teenie weenie hamburgini,” I said. “What did you get?”

“A fat bastard.”

§

While driving in the car she said, “Look at that cow in the field, I think it’s dead.”

“It’s weird how the other cows are standing around the dead cow. I wonder what they’re doing,” I said.

“Maybe they’re holding a vigil?” she said.

“Or maybe it’s a moo-logy.”

§

While at work he said, “You should have slipped in.”

“Slipped into what?” I asked, trying to stay awake.

“No you should have slipped in,” he said.

“Why would I slip in? People can see me moving around.”

“What? No, slipped in. You should have slipped in. S-L-E-P-T slipped.”

You can still see the snow at the summit of the mountain. The black dots in the bottom right of the photo are hikers walking the Tongariro Crossing.

Here’s the whole foot, notice the break in the pinky toe.

And here’s the break.

How did I break it, you ask?

By saving the life of a child standing in the middle of the road. He was almost hit by a bus!

Actually I hit my toe on the edge of my couch. I heard the crack, too.

I thought I had strong bones from all the milk I drank as a kid. I guess not.