tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76196545810095319302024-03-19T21:47:50.170+13:00THE CURMUDGEONTHE CURMUDGEONTHE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.comBlogger4165125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-66584922628528513122024-03-19T17:19:00.001+13:002024-03-19T17:19:38.864+13:00NEW POST - THE WINE GUY<p> </p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://nzwineguy.blogspot.com/2024/03/slippage.html">SLIPPAGE</a><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg30LO8wpHXXPbNDCwR9eNxfG5YtRMnm3pcHYJO8Ej_RqzRjZTY4m9weIkbNTpJYBcieZ530czCyDGDDbeCJa1b5yh1nL-qw2pB-GFUkLTYWduYPn1XtaEL6Ewy_RwDfRdcodlQpmRFC9AYrJXwj3cMVp3rxQzF3ZAWCmlIOUtLQEJwq4vjRneeY8Eb3uJ/s80/Wine%20drinker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="80" data-original-width="60" height="80" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg30LO8wpHXXPbNDCwR9eNxfG5YtRMnm3pcHYJO8Ej_RqzRjZTY4m9weIkbNTpJYBcieZ530czCyDGDDbeCJa1b5yh1nL-qw2pB-GFUkLTYWduYPn1XtaEL6Ewy_RwDfRdcodlQpmRFC9AYrJXwj3cMVp3rxQzF3ZAWCmlIOUtLQEJwq4vjRneeY8Eb3uJ/s1600/Wine%20drinker.jpg" width="60" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p><br /></p>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-83140435235218955612024-03-18T10:42:00.016+13:002024-03-18T12:44:20.763+13:00INTERVIEW #28<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPKCtaANQ1-7SZR7p98cQ0gk-VoY6psA1pDJ2xAK9G0XcleOn9sDNrGiw5K107ApzHDlMBzEmv0U9SziXvaCytZmLLXJzm-9dBaBzN4uLOcep3g_49636u7Tb5G6OEWtMR2qac_gaCacvvuQ0YOxgVwaMWjPCqHidPVvJJjafnn9X5NiITDPoeqrVEk9sW/s315/Peter%20Tony%20Mike%20Golf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="236" data-original-width="315" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPKCtaANQ1-7SZR7p98cQ0gk-VoY6psA1pDJ2xAK9G0XcleOn9sDNrGiw5K107ApzHDlMBzEmv0U9SziXvaCytZmLLXJzm-9dBaBzN4uLOcep3g_49636u7Tb5G6OEWtMR2qac_gaCacvvuQ0YOxgVwaMWjPCqHidPVvJJjafnn9X5NiITDPoeqrVEk9sW/s1600/Peter%20Tony%20Mike%20Golf.jpg" width="315" /></a></div><br /><p>A reader* asked me why more of The Curmudgeons Inc.ⓒ members don't get interviewed. I thought that this was a very good question and the rest of you readers can benefit from this. Today we will talk with Peter's Golf Bag.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://petersgolfbag.blogspot.com/">PETER'S GOLF BAG</a><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>TC: Welcome Peter's Golf Bag - hey! Can I just refer to you as PGB?</p><p>PGB: Sure TC, I'd like that. This 'bag' thing is getting out of hand you know, even Robert is now referring to his blog as Robert's Potato Bag!</p><p>TC: Robert?</p><p>PGB: Never mind, it'll be changed soon.</p><p>TC: Well, good to have you in PGB. What have you been up to?</p><p>PGB: I played golf yesterday TC.</p><p>TC: Really? That's great. How did it go?</p><p>PGB: Well, I headed out late in the afternoon as, being Sunday I knew that it'd be busy what with all the atheists and lax christians up here dodging church.</p><p>TC: Amen brother!</p><p>PGB: No TC, there were quite a few men actually.</p><p>TC: Oh - not Mike from tennis by any chance?</p><p>PGB: Ha ha, no. Mike has of course given up tennis to play golf (on course - you see what I did there?) but I didn't run into him which is just as well as there was no time to discuss geo-politics and the gun laws.</p><p>TC: How was your golf though?</p><p>PGB: I played 6 holes, three of them brilliantly so am a happy chappy.</p><p>TC: (<i>looking over his shoulder)</i> I can't see The Old Girl around - how many golf balls did you find?</p><p>PGB: I'm glad you asked that TC (<i>also looking around in case The Old Girl was lurking</i>). I found 10 balls - all new or damned near new. They just had the club championships so the standard of lost balls was higher than usual.</p><p>TC: You don't say PGB.</p><p>PGB: I just did TC - keep up.</p><p>TC: Ha ha. Did you have any trouble finding them though? I remember when ....</p><p>PGB:... when you lost your mind?</p><p>TC: Huh?</p><p>PGB: A musical reference TC. You should know that - <i>Gnarls Barkley</i> 'Crazy".</p><p>TC: Oh right, I like that song.</p><p>PGB: Yeah well, no probs this time although there were a couple of distressing moments.</p><p>TC: Oh no! A fall?</p><p>PGB: No, not a fall on this occasion but ... and hold onto your hat ... in one of the creeks I spied a lovely looking ball. I put out the ball retriever and managed to hook it up but as I was lifting the rod the ball fell out - down into a deeper pool where I couldn't see it anymore. I was devastated.</p><p>TC: Oh dear that's a worry. The other readers will sympathise I'm sure. You mentioned two moments though.</p><p>PGB: Oh yeah. In another spot - the bushes next to the 7th tee where I find a lot of balls - after finding 3 good balls I saw another one - a pink one would you believe - nestled under an exposed root of a fallen tree. It was about 8 feet down though through crumbly ground and there was a lot of overgrowth so I left it there.</p><p>TC: (<i>Gasp</i>). You left it there! What? I don't believe it.</p><p>PGB: I know, I know, but it was getting late and The Old Girl said I wasn't to do anything risky so ...</p><p>TC: ... so, you wimped out. Anything else PGB?</p><p>PGB: I played the 5th hole perfectly if you want to hear about it?</p><p>TC: That's OK PGB, we'd better ...</p><p>PGB: I teed off from the raised tee with a long straight drive that kept away from the trees lining the fairway on either side ...</p><p>TC: ... thanks PGB but ...</p><p>PGB: ... and as you know TC on the right hand side, behind the trees is the deep gully with the creek at the bottom. This is the one that you fell down into years ago and munted your knee. That was bad luck for you but I have a lot of luck finding balls there. Yesterday I found 5 and one of them was a <i>Ben Hogan </i>ball that I'd never seen before. I ...</p><p>TC: ...OK, thanks PGB, we have to ...</p><p>PGB: ... after finding the balls I climbed back on to the fairway to see where my drive had ended up. The ball was right down the end almost to the bisecting smaller creek and the big oak tree. I got out my 10 iron and lofted a shot up over the tree and onto the raised green behind. Look, I think I have a photograph somewhere of this green, I'll ...</p><p>TC: .... ha ha ....oops! I think I hear The Old Girl calling me. Look, carry on PGB, I'll keep an ear open, I'll just check what ...</p><p></p><blockquote><i>The sound of a car door slamming, a car starting up and accelerating down the driveway.</i></blockquote><p></p><p>PGB: ... anyway, the ball hit the green and bounced to the right closer to the pin. Brilliant. I was able to hole out in 3 and this is a par 4! Great. I then went to the tee for the 6th hole. This is a par 3 and goes up a steep fairway to an elevated green. My tee shot with an 8-iron sailed up and gently landed on the green only about 6 feet away from the pin. TC, you wouldn't believe it but ... TC? TC? That's strange. TC?</p><p>TC:</p><p>PGB: TC?</p><p>TC:</p><p>PGB: TC? Where are you? Funny.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl3M9L_c-avX-oV9SpMhJju1CBzQJkAMBtpGAU4IJIdP6XJ-Ke7kWi903Zirnk29A4unFQTeCg8jVDCHHvJFs8ESMMpCwDG3H3K3hY8E7Pz4nihwraYLKVzugpiG3DFKigjlBdgwwEaN5CdZLhj1DRF4x1Fv-VipRYZR1QCgnl-4h3lzLHkoyNobBcFczZ/s1246/Screenshot%202024-03-18%20at%2010.37.16.png" referrerpolicy="origin" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="906" data-original-width="1246" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl3M9L_c-avX-oV9SpMhJju1CBzQJkAMBtpGAU4IJIdP6XJ-Ke7kWi903Zirnk29A4unFQTeCg8jVDCHHvJFs8ESMMpCwDG3H3K3hY8E7Pz4nihwraYLKVzugpiG3DFKigjlBdgwwEaN5CdZLhj1DRF4x1Fv-VipRYZR1QCgnl-4h3lzLHkoyNobBcFczZ/w400-h291/Screenshot%202024-03-18%20at%2010.37.16.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>* <i>Name withheld for privacy reasons and fear of retribution</i></p>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-28844933557856109262024-03-16T14:24:00.000+13:002024-03-16T14:24:04.066+13:00RAM RAID OF LOCAL CATHOLIC CHURCH<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHMGCfM19rcLZGud3b7NPxt0jrUBz_sW_dRcTpTx3bgUeAoTooFuLEco5C8nOEY8By2AQ6d7L6cpr8mLFvKXRj9uKPDQP4NTTcs9KVjIKR9bxIaxdvHjHm-O3lPhJSwCCqHqW3Vxq1hs9VbkRR9DEgXxETcu3e9-khT6I_wiEODX5FbZ3MVHDBuWjmcdzc/s1492/Screen%20Shot%202024-03-16%20at%202.21.11%20PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="810" data-original-width="1492" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHMGCfM19rcLZGud3b7NPxt0jrUBz_sW_dRcTpTx3bgUeAoTooFuLEco5C8nOEY8By2AQ6d7L6cpr8mLFvKXRj9uKPDQP4NTTcs9KVjIKR9bxIaxdvHjHm-O3lPhJSwCCqHqW3Vxq1hs9VbkRR9DEgXxETcu3e9-khT6I_wiEODX5FbZ3MVHDBuWjmcdzc/w400-h217/Screen%20Shot%202024-03-16%20at%202.21.11%20PM.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: UnifrakturMaguntia;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: UnifrakturMaguntia;"><div><br /></div>The Moera Times</span><div><br /></div><div>Six people who allegedly fled from police have been arrested following a ram raid at St Patrick's Catholic church in Moera early this morning.<br /><br />“Just after midnight, police responded to reports of the incident on Main Road, where a stolen vehicle has been used to gain entry,” police said about the church burglary.<br /><br />“Those involved are alleged to have entered the premises and taken a number of items before fleeing in a different vehicle.”<br /><br />One of the vehicles believed to be used during the incident was located a short time later on the way to Wainuiomata police said.<br /><br />“The occupants failed to stop for police before the vehicle was spiked in Willis Grove Wainuiomata,” police said.<br /><br />A number of the stolen goods have now been recovered, police said.<br /><br />An old man is due to appear in Youth Court today on several charges.<br /><br />Four youngsters have been referred to Youth Aid and a fifth, the cutest and youngest one has been sent to the Catholic Centre in Thorndon Quay Wellington "for corrective training" said a representative of the Catholic Archdiocese of Wellington.</div><div><br /></div><div>A spokesperson, Ms Ima A. Palled from the Ministry of Police said "This is a heinous crime and underscores the necessity and urgency of the passing of tougher crime measures as advocated by the National led government. We have not ruled out capital punishment for ram raids on churches and, at least, will be recommending the removal of extraneous members including fingers and toes.</div><div><br /></div><div>"We have had a guts-full" said Brother Kanusparadim from the WelCome office in Hill street. "First it was the dairies. Then it was the jewellery stores and liquor stores and now they are coming for our churches."</div><div><br /></div><div>Police spokesperson Al Alloallothen said that it appears that the ram-raiders were looking for booze as it is St Patrick's Day tomorrow. They took instead large amounts of altar wine, lubricants and Communion hosts for which there apparently is a growing black market. Also found in the stolen vehicles were a television, a computer and two air conditioning units.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Ajn2oF4ufOzswnQJAs5RzcizhKFeu0pIMy8jVz6P9AjaMrgSz1XQUfNNIcdf64-SZMHa419O5jZYvEHO2RVMcgCgQJQuJd40F7CIOHeo3Kkvn7IuiV82PykOTLojg1sssdzjSIGOcILRS-E9S6F5-t8RTA9OqtVZbuCR_NqrUkZO8zes4aVW0HIMH6NN/s300/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Ajn2oF4ufOzswnQJAs5RzcizhKFeu0pIMy8jVz6P9AjaMrgSz1XQUfNNIcdf64-SZMHa419O5jZYvEHO2RVMcgCgQJQuJd40F7CIOHeo3Kkvn7IuiV82PykOTLojg1sssdzjSIGOcILRS-E9S6F5-t8RTA9OqtVZbuCR_NqrUkZO8zes4aVW0HIMH6NN/w400-h224/images.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-18859887800384628732024-03-16T11:37:00.004+13:002024-03-16T11:37:35.277+13:00"WOMEN HAVE ALWAYS BEEN SPIES" *<p><br /></p><i>* Harriet Rubin founded the prestigious Doubleday business imprint Currency and she, as its editorial director, published dozens of notable bestsellers. She is the author of the international bestseller 'The Princessa: Machiavelli for Women'.</i><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>The Old Girl is off again soon - Monday week I think. This time it's to USA then Scotland with some side trips to Italy and Spain. She'll be away for about 8 weeks.</p><p>I'm used to it as, from the beginning, when we met over thirty six years ago she travelled a lot on business. Initially it was to China and South East Asia. Then various Pacific Islands and Australia. Later it was USA and with some longer stays in Canada and England. I travelled a bit as well with my job which took me to France, USA, Britain, Australia and Italy mainly and we would do some holiday travel at the end of those trips.</p><p>I've been watching a few thriller series on Netflix and other streaming platforms recently and have started watching the old British 9-season series SPOOKS. The thought came to me - "what if she's a spy?"</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw84at29yQyNdlkm1sco1nzUIEooOJ1eIyv71eBgeWnuME_tJjS-xSsdPOMvxwz7wikkbAg2yOeGxu6S8BdsGM-RaCTFIx6EguIZ7dbbGEPC8swIJgxJfyg4z7pa9oK8tJvICSit2_ROoR6VOfLWL7TVS-KQ8PVkpLXjZGP6g6sgv_CSwXMbnR7ib2LGti/s299/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="299" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw84at29yQyNdlkm1sco1nzUIEooOJ1eIyv71eBgeWnuME_tJjS-xSsdPOMvxwz7wikkbAg2yOeGxu6S8BdsGM-RaCTFIx6EguIZ7dbbGEPC8swIJgxJfyg4z7pa9oK8tJvICSit2_ROoR6VOfLWL7TVS-KQ8PVkpLXjZGP6g6sgv_CSwXMbnR7ib2LGti/w400-h225/images.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>This would make sense of when we were in Wellington recently, walking along Taranaki Street, when she pointed to a nondescript and unsigned building and said: "That's SIS headquarters". I wondered how she knew this as no doubt it required some sort of security clearance and vetting to know such things.</p><p><br /></p><p>Mmmmm .......</p><p><br /></p><p>When she goes away I might have a good search through the house to look for secret documents, spy cameras, microdot-manufacturing devices and, with luck, a gun.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUIq1iGNBROqJR9-OxVRZL0D4Q77GEe5-3hkGhq0FXTrSNfGNduEeE-aWiu7zs-ywBHuUu5PpFJgMXkLrsNZTuw7hTRdbWqC8x_rvXLx6PjKM4dKftrUPO8FEZoa8OYQPqO8V6zjZBKtx63xVWj1SMTC7QjgYqxiEkq5JXOTcE8un5qL9m-z1JGvqzwtf0/s275/download.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUIq1iGNBROqJR9-OxVRZL0D4Q77GEe5-3hkGhq0FXTrSNfGNduEeE-aWiu7zs-ywBHuUu5PpFJgMXkLrsNZTuw7hTRdbWqC8x_rvXLx6PjKM4dKftrUPO8FEZoa8OYQPqO8V6zjZBKtx63xVWj1SMTC7QjgYqxiEkq5JXOTcE8un5qL9m-z1JGvqzwtf0/w200-h133/download.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div><br /><p>I could do with one of those.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-49675380897019712472024-03-15T11:43:00.002+13:002024-03-15T11:43:38.491+13:00GETTING THINGS DONE<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAd7Et0CJC_WTY-MqR4lSfYgvFsdJ9dkuBKgpp2e5f5DAHQ-MTxagLb8NklOU8GxoGwpJw_1u2Ee9xU8wwlgXj78WNu9ZJAEaWvdEydHOc-zGksQlD2KqgICJoah5jDisr_0ye3pNHPEfnE89OVT8oN2eAfGuzo-w3y97YCp-Bg0fsrHEDma6U0l7H4dR-/s4032/IMG_5182.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAd7Et0CJC_WTY-MqR4lSfYgvFsdJ9dkuBKgpp2e5f5DAHQ-MTxagLb8NklOU8GxoGwpJw_1u2Ee9xU8wwlgXj78WNu9ZJAEaWvdEydHOc-zGksQlD2KqgICJoah5jDisr_0ye3pNHPEfnE89OVT8oN2eAfGuzo-w3y97YCp-Bg0fsrHEDma6U0l7H4dR-/w300-h400/IMG_5182.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>It's a blustery day up here and I haven't been out for a walk. It's not a tennis day on Friday and I had thought about going to play golf but don't fancy it when it's windy with a chance of rain.</p><p>The more observant reader might have noticed in the above photograph showing the unpleasant (for Northland) weather conditions that there is a tui perched on the deck rail.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcPtBFC4y0mjylAAafwC3bOD2AO1vV4SaPHE1ZrOAsWpb2SJu_MqfaQdS3ECIk-rv1LTCzSiK6UAvFzkJ54Cpl8FDeea1lFt3PKTidgkUbsg6CkAw7euhwXn5ddlFJKm1Jw4z6qL1t-lXaNabZy0jk9nQGyIMgnkrY6AXaL_LQETPEQN42iuSkLmvQrBhQ/s356/Screenshot%202024-03-15%20at%2011.29.03.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="214" data-original-width="356" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcPtBFC4y0mjylAAafwC3bOD2AO1vV4SaPHE1ZrOAsWpb2SJu_MqfaQdS3ECIk-rv1LTCzSiK6UAvFzkJ54Cpl8FDeea1lFt3PKTidgkUbsg6CkAw7euhwXn5ddlFJKm1Jw4z6qL1t-lXaNabZy0jk9nQGyIMgnkrY6AXaL_LQETPEQN42iuSkLmvQrBhQ/s320/Screenshot%202024-03-15%20at%2011.29.03.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Well, ha ha - fooled you - that's a small metal sculpture of a tui.</p><p>Before Christmas last year some friends gave The Old Girl 3 small metal sculptures - the tui plus two others, a morepork and a piwakawaka.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmvdydrZ5qqkmR7eudDGPt0AUp1iPtSiLioE7ryGW-bZDqGMhV5yLmxHNJeurrbYKXvaeA-qE_J55M0xtYBH9CdcYCJ8rkW9vijaQMLzN2Vuo1mFIF8jfeJzoVk4Mwk5xScwdxClXnyIyfStsAgnF_oGzmWWzT5grqK2Zy3TsBKK2gMmxKK6At1gFaHmmB/s4032/IMG_5183.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmvdydrZ5qqkmR7eudDGPt0AUp1iPtSiLioE7ryGW-bZDqGMhV5yLmxHNJeurrbYKXvaeA-qE_J55M0xtYBH9CdcYCJ8rkW9vijaQMLzN2Vuo1mFIF8jfeJzoVk4Mwk5xScwdxClXnyIyfStsAgnF_oGzmWWzT5grqK2Zy3TsBKK2gMmxKK6At1gFaHmmB/s320/IMG_5183.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVss5FeCyX0XcLi7JsH8qZUT3fKrgjW_nam0WQ-MKADKTUCyxVRFtzXVFWwn8kNsA6dL9F7cGDSMN9ym52MSgJj0WKIQ229z0z7D0tZcB50NkyfcdYSDH9FZL4d9OjZ7SRbuFYj-JSSC01OXWA11X1uBcyndWYpREVpfjGxVlJgvYsD5fzMquc70dARugN/s4032/IMG_5186.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVss5FeCyX0XcLi7JsH8qZUT3fKrgjW_nam0WQ-MKADKTUCyxVRFtzXVFWwn8kNsA6dL9F7cGDSMN9ym52MSgJj0WKIQ229z0z7D0tZcB50NkyfcdYSDH9FZL4d9OjZ7SRbuFYj-JSSC01OXWA11X1uBcyndWYpREVpfjGxVlJgvYsD5fzMquc70dARugN/s320/IMG_5186.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>She left these on the deck for months saying that she would find a place to display them and refusing my offers of assistance.<div><br /></div><div>Eventually these sculptures rusted - don't panic, it's what they are supposed to do being outside sculptures - as you can see by the marks on the decking outside the kitchen door here:</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNBYlKgH1iYhsTTpkMpBBhTpmOp86pEyVKQYgPwdGLHvtAO276k6uG3RPb5KOamSqbDM4OSkgi90oV7UZUyp_3RrmRKKQEGwZQcyMD5K3aO5bhijY2COg5uaUD8LYw0-4i8_Phzlz39_Dd1MJoqUzmpqc31iua_l2V2niWoZWejvyMUUPfgFe0Cm8Ysm7u/s4032/IMG_5185.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNBYlKgH1iYhsTTpkMpBBhTpmOp86pEyVKQYgPwdGLHvtAO276k6uG3RPb5KOamSqbDM4OSkgi90oV7UZUyp_3RrmRKKQEGwZQcyMD5K3aO5bhijY2COg5uaUD8LYw0-4i8_Phzlz39_Dd1MJoqUzmpqc31iua_l2V2niWoZWejvyMUUPfgFe0Cm8Ysm7u/s320/IMG_5185.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>Pissed off with this I took the three sculptures and jammed them with their spikes into the joins of the wooden deck rails.</div><div>I expected this to be just temporary and a hint to her to do something with them. This was about three weeks ago and I'm beginning to think that this will be their final resting place.</div><div><br /></div><div>Hey ho. Job done.</div><div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></div>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-85024346021276082102024-03-14T17:47:00.001+13:002024-03-14T17:47:52.828+13:00A MIXED BAG<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAnVIYzrP50HfD8-BWbpkPRz-LK_40QOyBi3dC0oizHgJxacyH9yHv1vU4hlokJLd_PLlzb-8PAlsrEPXNEUy6gze_t0uepYX7YmsWferNr32y4urWU-rJwpicLBSnaI7Pye3wvnsvWKJ636hsontBAjH8lfSdHsBaEhveRxfxiQh0BlZgTir9tf4dhHEU/s253/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="199" data-original-width="253" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAnVIYzrP50HfD8-BWbpkPRz-LK_40QOyBi3dC0oizHgJxacyH9yHv1vU4hlokJLd_PLlzb-8PAlsrEPXNEUy6gze_t0uepYX7YmsWferNr32y4urWU-rJwpicLBSnaI7Pye3wvnsvWKJ636hsontBAjH8lfSdHsBaEhveRxfxiQh0BlZgTir9tf4dhHEU/s1600/images.jpeg" width="253" /></a></div><p></p><p>The posts this week are proving to be a mixed bag - and not in a good way.</p><p>Even Robert that <strike>catatonic</strike> catholic cleaner has renamed his blog <i>Robert's Potato Bag </i>which, to be honest sounds a lot more wholesome and nutritious than his previous manifestations.</p><p>Richard has got himself all in a twist about Latin blog post titles and is showing his jealousy at not having been invited into the upper echelon of classes back in school.</p><p></p><blockquote>"Let it go Richard, let it go".</blockquote><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/BCNJGGLg_78" width="320" youtube-src-id="BCNJGGLg_78"></iframe></div><br /><p>I might have started off These old slavish followers when I posted: <a href="https://grumpyoldmanreturnsnz.blogspot.com/2024/03/adeo-in-miseris-etiam-vitae-amantes.html">THE BLOG POST TO BE IMITATED</a> which, as per usual, gave them some ideas for their own posts. I just didn't expect that they would go all nutty over it.</p><p>Richard, in addition to his mithering over perceived schoolday injustices, banged on (again) about some silly old guy who I've mentioned in the past. Mike the tennis club former member. Sheesh! Mike no longer comes to tennis having been once too often been reproached by yours truly. Richard knows this or he should do if he read my posts closely (and who wouldn't?).</p><p> Oh well, it's only Thursday so those old guys might still find some inspiration. Richard has completed his "<i>I'll tell you that I work three days a week</i>" 6 hours of farting about and getting paid for it so might deign to write a proper post tomorrow.</p><p>Robert ... well, Robert has things on his mind given that the weekend approaches. It'd be nice to think that he stays with his potato bag as I like all forms of the plant s<i>olanum tuberosum</i>, especially if the New Zealand <i>Agra</i> variant is used to make chips, roast potatoes, boiled potatoes, mashed potatoes, Hasselback potatoes or stuffed potatoes. No doubt though he will drop this lovely meal accompaniment for some old nonsense about Gospels, the Bible, which bloody day of the year is important in the Catholic made-up liturgical year and, of course, the latest Maryan nutter.</p><p><br /></p><p>Ho hum!</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisbNtELomcA3nc2PZNG-UpZqm42w-P7BhZdt4TbpLt-SFDeO33lYIrrSHCMxykkA6AkPYR_oJGdezCsf9R6UIfnzxo-yEbkg4terBaiWIK5hLS6rwxqx0khfXCJVQL3tJTwLS8pIk2L6XWooqhXxfdN70vLyBtIi-gryOxRfG1KIQx3hFWSUU9wU4jEaIU/s270/download.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="270" data-original-width="187" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisbNtELomcA3nc2PZNG-UpZqm42w-P7BhZdt4TbpLt-SFDeO33lYIrrSHCMxykkA6AkPYR_oJGdezCsf9R6UIfnzxo-yEbkg4terBaiWIK5hLS6rwxqx0khfXCJVQL3tJTwLS8pIk2L6XWooqhXxfdN70vLyBtIi-gryOxRfG1KIQx3hFWSUU9wU4jEaIU/w277-h400/download.jpeg" width="277" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p></p>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-50356205712357303912024-03-12T13:18:00.003+13:002024-03-12T13:18:29.907+13:00"ADEO IN MISERIS ETIAM VITAE AMANTES SUNT MORTALES"<p> "Robert would have done that by now" said The Old Girl referring to the squeaky lounge door that she had asked me to fix yesterday when I was watching the exciting end of the cricket test.</p><p>"I'll do it as soon as" I replied, then turned back to the cricket which, as per par when playing Australia, New Zealand lost.</p><p style="text-align: center;">*************</p><p style="text-align: left;">That was yesterday.</p><p style="text-align: left;">Today The Old Girl said "Robert's pretty useful around the house I see. He works all hours his god gave him and still manages to paint the ceilings in his 'free' time".</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfi5nX2lHABQUIk7oK-50MhiNPq8Y9PAjEJMCwegfefMdzslS5tTP5d5wOsfeNrQfehfCISjcmYWSCmEFHtgK_edLh3kjvDQ0tUo6C7yGpbUll6FPktpx_NqWJ-3JbGsH5ISfjmOci_qdw94MHAXgeHO2k3en9FWfM8wropgAeKcUDCz-Bz3G9sb26CSQY/s1600/1710166425449250-0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfi5nX2lHABQUIk7oK-50MhiNPq8Y9PAjEJMCwegfefMdzslS5tTP5d5wOsfeNrQfehfCISjcmYWSCmEFHtgK_edLh3kjvDQ0tUo6C7yGpbUll6FPktpx_NqWJ-3JbGsH5ISfjmOci_qdw94MHAXgeHO2k3en9FWfM8wropgAeKcUDCz-Bz3G9sb26CSQY/s320/1710166425449250-0.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: left;">She said this while pointedly staring at the hinges on the lounge door.</p><p style="text-align: left;">Bloody Robert.</p><p style="text-align: left;">"Be careful what you wish for" I mumbled.</p><p style="text-align: left;">"What?" she asked.</p><p style="text-align: left;">"Nothing, just thinking of an old Aesop fable" I replied. "I might put some oil on those hinges soon."</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuUbBFkKKBg8M0cbGgyjm_aeyBqlEHeW5tgt_4lI3jyAM-wTbZdkMwEXW_pjpt-fPF0EltGwg62HrSC-jePuL3sMTdYjUniH_9vEzvmu9lG72zF5qDvvYusMO-q0J4mzi1w9M-op-cEr5d73ZbKlX_62UVbpG_r1DOo2rO_iuyncuwR4D7kYKybzpUxgYo/s512/M540035_The-old-man-and-death.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="409" data-original-width="512" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuUbBFkKKBg8M0cbGgyjm_aeyBqlEHeW5tgt_4lI3jyAM-wTbZdkMwEXW_pjpt-fPF0EltGwg62HrSC-jePuL3sMTdYjUniH_9vEzvmu9lG72zF5qDvvYusMO-q0J4mzi1w9M-op-cEr5d73ZbKlX_62UVbpG_r1DOo2rO_iuyncuwR4D7kYKybzpUxgYo/s320/M540035_The-old-man-and-death.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-7110617297379727792024-03-11T10:56:00.001+13:002024-03-11T10:56:08.762+13:00NEW POST - THE CURMUDGEON'S AGONY AUNT<p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://thecurmudgeonagonyaunt.blogspot.com/2024/03/didactic-dick.html">DIDACTIC DICK</a> </p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD1JIBaXpd8G7b92ML7RMv0gXW2SGXAA_-9coDp4WlQj6wGEe0FB8-ru6OfvrKkD2xco-ECGcglDNBFQIRK1CLX5OHrS16VII4s9jUYAdqseNHINxO9zjzmyUcKbOpZZRo4bx_7dJJjI5CoAOfKODJbWatD0JimtjecVtRTOEZZCT5WpTy1jV6nYrKaNCD/s259/Curmudgeon's%20Agony%20Aunt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD1JIBaXpd8G7b92ML7RMv0gXW2SGXAA_-9coDp4WlQj6wGEe0FB8-ru6OfvrKkD2xco-ECGcglDNBFQIRK1CLX5OHrS16VII4s9jUYAdqseNHINxO9zjzmyUcKbOpZZRo4bx_7dJJjI5CoAOfKODJbWatD0JimtjecVtRTOEZZCT5WpTy1jV6nYrKaNCD/s1600/Curmudgeon's%20Agony%20Aunt.jpg" width="259" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-11723250749686067252024-03-08T11:51:00.002+13:002024-03-08T11:51:28.817+13:00NEW POST - THE RELIGIOUS CURMUDGEON<p> </p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://thereligiouscurmudgeon.blogspot.com/2024/03/robert-in-wonderland.html">ROBERT IN WONDERLAND</a><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilxEpSKZ9Dfzm4i8BMMGtuqg45D6ubsvPwqFABcPH4bj4z1_ZU3B4PwT99tRyJjPgiy7yqcm627oeUqj_JMbYxMzdec78kkiKMv-TRnuzBXChfMBiqQvKQJnhxSh862AVBdPpki_DLb7Uydosj_PMh77mOcNSrdQSTJIzqazKxfZRMWeA9hCNv7OFYw2Xd/s119/abecab2e4dbc2970e80867e7b86668f7--historical-art-beer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="119" data-original-width="94" height="119" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilxEpSKZ9Dfzm4i8BMMGtuqg45D6ubsvPwqFABcPH4bj4z1_ZU3B4PwT99tRyJjPgiy7yqcm627oeUqj_JMbYxMzdec78kkiKMv-TRnuzBXChfMBiqQvKQJnhxSh862AVBdPpki_DLb7Uydosj_PMh77mOcNSrdQSTJIzqazKxfZRMWeA9hCNv7OFYw2Xd/s1600/abecab2e4dbc2970e80867e7b86668f7--historical-art-beer.jpg" width="94" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-23786178132613919482024-03-07T12:29:00.000+13:002024-03-07T12:29:25.258+13:00CHARM OFFENSIVE<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/rz_bzM7LYno" width="320" youtube-src-id="rz_bzM7LYno"></iframe></div><br /><p>Yep that sums up this dumb and low class deluded congresswoman. She has the grace and charm of an overfed sea slug.</p><p>I guess though that her stupidity and her blind support for Donald Trump appeals to the red-hat wearers in USA. They're scared of intelligent debate and respond best to cat-calls and childish slogans.</p><p>Trump will get the candidacy to run for president - that's a given and, paradoxically to all I believe in, it might not be a bad thing. If the odious fool is given the chance to run and gets soundly beaten in the elections - not a close contest - then the red-hat brigade should accept the defeat. If he is not allowed to run then there will be big trouble brewing over there - insurrection at best and civil war at worst. This bozo needs to be put down, but put down within the confines of democracy and the American political and judicial system. Anything else triggers conspiracy theories and martyrdom fanaticism.</p><p>Trump, even though he is a medium intelligent fool has, over the last eight years managed to stack the aforesaid American political and judicial system with cronies who do his bidding. We've seen that in the Supreme Court placements that are now biting reasonability and rightness on the bum. We've seen it in the running of the Republican Party which has bent to Trumps will and makes poor decisions in both the Senate and in Congress. We've seen it in Trumps stranglehold on the Republican National Committee (RNC) which just now voted down a resolution to ban paying Trump's legal bills. Henry Barbour<a href="https://thehill.com/people/henry-barbour/">,</a> who serves as Mississippi’s national committeeman, confirmed that the resolutions he drafted that would have prohibited the committee from covering the former president’s growing legal bills is dead. This, if Trump gets elected will be made worse by the fact that Trump's dingbat and under-qualified daughter-in-law Lara Trump will be put in a controlling position on the RNC. Not only will his legal bills be paid but likely his fines (half a billion dollars worth and counting as well).</p><p>How did USA get to this point? Under any former presidents, the level of the Trump family influence would be unthinkable. It's not even as if they are intelligent with their wealth coming from inheritance and grift. Ivanka and Jarrod weren't that clever but still managed to obtain positions of power under Trump's presidency that resulted in them obtaining fantastic wealth. It's not a stretch to imagine his Beavis and Butt-head sons Don Junior and Eric doing the same.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiylG8RAlbE06XQ5_JanCctbQ-dALKMwvyx13opmy1hk8vSMvz0MdwCos7w3GWHAA2BFAmh5kq4KuXqZ0BdIIQZhpwBtLctQMvznbSGMA0aJwMTieXFsmxQ8VkcaInur9Y1tvUc-i0j7xUD3h2UrftDYtjzYAvpHaFKX9iXWXFhILdjJ-pXlz_-2ZmhyEBj/s236/download.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="236" data-original-width="213" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiylG8RAlbE06XQ5_JanCctbQ-dALKMwvyx13opmy1hk8vSMvz0MdwCos7w3GWHAA2BFAmh5kq4KuXqZ0BdIIQZhpwBtLctQMvznbSGMA0aJwMTieXFsmxQ8VkcaInur9Y1tvUc-i0j7xUD3h2UrftDYtjzYAvpHaFKX9iXWXFhILdjJ-pXlz_-2ZmhyEBj/s1600/download.jpeg" width="213" /></a></div><br /><p>Trump and his minions have managed to inveigle thousands of supporters into positions of power and influence in the Federal system as well as in many of the states particularly the red-hat states. This has been done under the Biden led Democratic presidency. Imagine how things will be if Trump gets elected again? Dystopian? Hell yes and Margaret Atwood's <i>The Handmaid's Tale </i>was just scratching the surface.</p><p>You have to wonder though, given the combination of dimness, under-qualification and lack of sophistication in the Trumps and their acolytes - who is pulling the strings?</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqiRUomgnbUWF-0kygvWaq8aMSoaSpxv-QGjuju02WFVC4byIcbj4eSuiPFPH101UivE25O1GH1BRYOkEalZLtLrxpgdV_0_9Ns1ak1hzPWcLNmg0IMZQZbH3lDup7lbLqodS1uvp85rgs8KZGtCt1udZ2WyVoPTZ5IiuBjrP_H3ylNvEQ_ndqtSffKt3S/s261/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="261" data-original-width="193" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqiRUomgnbUWF-0kygvWaq8aMSoaSpxv-QGjuju02WFVC4byIcbj4eSuiPFPH101UivE25O1GH1BRYOkEalZLtLrxpgdV_0_9Ns1ak1hzPWcLNmg0IMZQZbH3lDup7lbLqodS1uvp85rgs8KZGtCt1udZ2WyVoPTZ5IiuBjrP_H3ylNvEQ_ndqtSffKt3S/s1600/images.jpeg" width="193" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-86153523785913016212024-03-06T16:03:00.013+13:002024-03-06T16:10:00.614+13:00UNNOTEWORTHY HAPPENINGS UP NORTH<p> I had to have a lie down after reading Robert's last two exciting posts. I don't think that the old ticker can handle stuff like that.</p><p>I thought that I'd better slow down the pace a bit so that readers who might have also read Robert's posts can have a rest.</p><p>This morning I loaded up the trailer with tree cuttings, flax, yucca leaves and general garden rubbish. It took a while as it was a big load. I headed off to the local - Parua Bay building depot - where they accept green waste at a charge of $25 whether it has flax in it or not. It was closed. Bummer!</p><p>I then drove into town to the main Resort centre - an extra 25 minutes away. As I had a mixture of green waste and flax the load is calculated on general rubbish rates as it had to be emptied in the general rubbish area not green waste. The charge was $55. Green waste charge is about $25.</p><p>I reversed my trailer in - I'm getting quite good at that - emptied it and, after sweeping out the trailer had a fossick in the resort centre shop. I bought this for $3.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv65iZwkBwHxmwZUyvjXtSrKJgZKw5daoaSz-awoEUmZsmkhRFbA_-S1nuKdMZSwsoz8SJI_-5uowwfyvS2XSLJJy8_i4eDfOTM0qlglTDyt8Yzbyt37XenHh1Oe5539x20VbVmVCESECbv9Amo4116dAOTPttxC7O9KScfyeZacfHU5M1ySBNB8tV5o3S/s4032/IMG_5179.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv65iZwkBwHxmwZUyvjXtSrKJgZKw5daoaSz-awoEUmZsmkhRFbA_-S1nuKdMZSwsoz8SJI_-5uowwfyvS2XSLJJy8_i4eDfOTM0qlglTDyt8Yzbyt37XenHh1Oe5539x20VbVmVCESECbv9Amo4116dAOTPttxC7O9KScfyeZacfHU5M1ySBNB8tV5o3S/s320/IMG_5179.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>Adjustable jaw grips or locking pliers are handy for gripping pipes or bolts while using a spanner* on a nut at the other end. I didn't have one of these and knew that if I didn't buy it then sometime in the near future it would be required and I'd say to myself "I should have bought those adjustable jaw grips". I made sure that I put them away in the tool cupboard when I got home so that The Old Girl wouldn't see.</p><p>On the way home I stopped at the Parua Bay bakery to buy a couple of butter chicken pies for my and The Old Girl's lunch. They make a pretty good butter chicken pie here. When taking one out of the cabinet using tongs to drop it in a paper bag I did just that - dropped it but not into the bag. It went *SPLAT* onto the floor. Bummer!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiysV4xg_kCpen7vifXAVidaGh3I1Mbi32Q5ZLcdnxPiRHhb6yAZL2Vkuh2-0TJFdUdxdwCOPU5F_y3nK3DlNGWE_-lPXnHGNKsc2ZgdAk8tseFtOiZr0Ohj8Mpfrxq2z7uXvXhxHn5-IM9FuTz6VOkG35NJaTQ-0tYNR5G7tQ54rfqIWDnoCyDJgQbfB6R/s430/Screenshot%202024-03-06%20at%2016.00.11.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="290" data-original-width="430" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiysV4xg_kCpen7vifXAVidaGh3I1Mbi32Q5ZLcdnxPiRHhb6yAZL2Vkuh2-0TJFdUdxdwCOPU5F_y3nK3DlNGWE_-lPXnHGNKsc2ZgdAk8tseFtOiZr0Ohj8Mpfrxq2z7uXvXhxHn5-IM9FuTz6VOkG35NJaTQ-0tYNR5G7tQ54rfqIWDnoCyDJgQbfB6R/w200-h135/Screenshot%202024-03-06%20at%2016.00.11.png" width="200" /></a></div><br /><p>I got two more out of the cabinet, picked up the splatted one and paid for the three and asked the bakery person to put the broken one in the rubbish.</p><p>So - how's your day going?</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>* For a totally useless observation on the use of a spanner go to: <a href="https://richardsbassbag.blogspot.com/2024/03/how-to-change-strings-on-double-bass.html">RICHARDS BASS BAG</a>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-13779252568168751312024-03-05T10:50:00.001+13:002024-03-05T10:50:19.991+13:00NEW POST - THE CHURCH OF THE BLESSED CURMUDGEON<p> </p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://thechurchoftheblessedcurmudgeon.blogspot.com/2024/03/realms-of-fantasy.html">REALMS OF FANTASY</a><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7VBZQoX5z4_sVEX0WMRecCBh3v2bYtzD6fnB-bsSNjmPYtZlxKN3n_rD9M5r03ccdCvTbc9iz6DBTm5cPryRtWw_9fd3tewvALvEt-EaX61kQ5Pjshk1ORnIlrwq0SF19OyZiFn-9BK64G07vl5ey2ORVrgwumhs_m4oH0f-2RCk8J9jLM-H-7Zc4yQvT/s315/hipsterjesus_crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="192" data-original-width="315" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7VBZQoX5z4_sVEX0WMRecCBh3v2bYtzD6fnB-bsSNjmPYtZlxKN3n_rD9M5r03ccdCvTbc9iz6DBTm5cPryRtWw_9fd3tewvALvEt-EaX61kQ5Pjshk1ORnIlrwq0SF19OyZiFn-9BK64G07vl5ey2ORVrgwumhs_m4oH0f-2RCk8J9jLM-H-7Zc4yQvT/s1600/hipsterjesus_crop.jpg" width="315" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-87850033867930049142024-03-05T08:30:00.001+13:002024-03-05T08:30:13.563+13:00NEW POST - THE MUSIC CURMUDGEON<p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://themusiccurmudgeon.blogspot.com/2024/03/boogie-with-stu.html">BOOGIE WITH STU</a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEv87OKPSr3RWIQcvwmq2XeCXIOM0T9NqsHtV31C6x3ccVhR2ImbwRUAU2t0HuvpozDnnBoz2gYCVZfb_I93R4VB0Huevh-4GDeG-L3V1ozjAka2orjLe9MAXxsYCVEWhr1QkcLI4Rn48ykvMP65WH_1RSALos6n8YQQvsBSk9_JLORVVeVXkToHCgAtE-/s315/THE%20MUSIC%20CURMUDGEON.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="187" data-original-width="315" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEv87OKPSr3RWIQcvwmq2XeCXIOM0T9NqsHtV31C6x3ccVhR2ImbwRUAU2t0HuvpozDnnBoz2gYCVZfb_I93R4VB0Huevh-4GDeG-L3V1ozjAka2orjLe9MAXxsYCVEWhr1QkcLI4Rn48ykvMP65WH_1RSALos6n8YQQvsBSk9_JLORVVeVXkToHCgAtE-/s1600/THE%20MUSIC%20CURMUDGEON.png" width="315" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-70586414707270878212024-03-04T20:23:00.002+13:002024-03-04T20:23:57.559+13:00NEW POST - THE POLEMICAL CURMUDGEON<p> </p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://thepolemicalcurmudgeon.blogspot.com/2024/03/self-reflection.html">SELF-REFLECTION</a><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuIepJQGALooOiCI9fKX5kAdmOCcEpV1dHD0UiFvB6OHwrPVM6c-SxQEfUtir9OdIQX56kcJANbqlJfUzARgftfRDBhPDkp25Tn9yUz6BFS9Vjb4MK11bI9zTY7l18T7_OhTAM8qdODBqsGKcGvS5mF92CcdNbZMTCqoVSYJnTiwmPVxi6aSL8r1BmDdmE/s77/440px-Jonathan_Swift_by_Charles_Jervas_detail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="77" data-original-width="68" height="77" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuIepJQGALooOiCI9fKX5kAdmOCcEpV1dHD0UiFvB6OHwrPVM6c-SxQEfUtir9OdIQX56kcJANbqlJfUzARgftfRDBhPDkp25Tn9yUz6BFS9Vjb4MK11bI9zTY7l18T7_OhTAM8qdODBqsGKcGvS5mF92CcdNbZMTCqoVSYJnTiwmPVxi6aSL8r1BmDdmE/s1600/440px-Jonathan_Swift_by_Charles_Jervas_detail.jpg" width="68" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p><br /></p>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-27827047069937931882024-03-02T17:41:00.001+13:002024-03-02T17:41:32.833+13:00NEW POST - THE CURMUDGEON'S AGONY AUNT<p> </p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://thecurmudgeonagonyaunt.blogspot.com/2024/03/boring-song.html">BORING SONG</a><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidPlDGEEi8t_B2WrIfkYlydjc01kIiNChWniHbSHInSNNoHcrL3aLsrYsf2wCp165K_tY85vFW90iyUYC5Epr4oXKyY_88WfSqvA6SNMDJg9eM-bVK38Deda-fsS8nTuWQIkJdds_faTPfrLpLANM7p-JfmZyDHCBte77O903Rmpyyx1nt9KlL-3-wiLf9/s259/Curmudgeon's%20Agony%20Aunt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="194" data-original-width="259" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidPlDGEEi8t_B2WrIfkYlydjc01kIiNChWniHbSHInSNNoHcrL3aLsrYsf2wCp165K_tY85vFW90iyUYC5Epr4oXKyY_88WfSqvA6SNMDJg9eM-bVK38Deda-fsS8nTuWQIkJdds_faTPfrLpLANM7p-JfmZyDHCBte77O903Rmpyyx1nt9KlL-3-wiLf9/s1600/Curmudgeon's%20Agony%20Aunt.jpg" width="259" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-9943117920557000732024-03-02T11:50:00.001+13:002024-03-02T11:50:08.210+13:00STUMPS - CRICKET, TREE AND FENCE - TAKE YOUR PICK<p> I'm watching the cricket on TV while writing this post.</p><p>I don't hold out much hope for a win though but then, sport can be unpredictable unlike the other bloggers in this blogging community who reacted exactly as I expected to the latest The Religious Curmudgeon's post.</p><p>Robert remonstrated on religious grounds:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7A1ai2_oRODthXzzKyZVZ6dbQcjxG35wwd2H5WylnU00AuUnniPN5ylogoztY66Arrosl5njp6QWeMOPGd2at_Q3bk6AiDVtExdMFVy7rFuFHcoOCqF4hFbWMrrhrXbPexUMXX65yrz52oMREpkrnMCHPokX7s9mXADDGPo4vh-lb3ujTB2CTNzJnLNOI/s1728/Screenshot%202024-03-02%20at%2011.26.52.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="318" data-original-width="1728" height="106" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7A1ai2_oRODthXzzKyZVZ6dbQcjxG35wwd2H5WylnU00AuUnniPN5ylogoztY66Arrosl5njp6QWeMOPGd2at_Q3bk6AiDVtExdMFVy7rFuFHcoOCqF4hFbWMrrhrXbPexUMXX65yrz52oMREpkrnMCHPokX7s9mXADDGPo4vh-lb3ujTB2CTNzJnLNOI/w575-h106/Screenshot%202024-03-02%20at%2011.26.52.png" width="575" /></a></div><br /><p>I think that he's confusing me with someone who cares about the nonsense that the Catholic Church puts out.</p><p>Richard, as expected chose to have a go at Google Translate and Italian language translation:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKDfOU-qgK9F-yd96Mvm7O7ODpbVrubwAJ8hSKX5yOQcCFSDH7zP0_XiGskgeVZKA4gEJTNKptUXs69G_Ky_CzkENTP75hmnkFJbqInmSjl8zoCzvfb7x8BJ6LtaUKCK6P3I1Xj9NLnBnhz8xomwC_c9ckfrH2piocwJV5oSwwKd6Xl_Xc2z29BOwqfRt6/s1702/Screenshot%202024-03-02%20at%2011.29.30.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="796" data-original-width="1702" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKDfOU-qgK9F-yd96Mvm7O7ODpbVrubwAJ8hSKX5yOQcCFSDH7zP0_XiGskgeVZKA4gEJTNKptUXs69G_Ky_CzkENTP75hmnkFJbqInmSjl8zoCzvfb7x8BJ6LtaUKCK6P3I1Xj9NLnBnhz8xomwC_c9ckfrH2piocwJV5oSwwKd6Xl_Xc2z29BOwqfRt6/w604-h283/Screenshot%202024-03-02%20at%2011.29.30.png" width="604" /></a></div><br /><p>The old Luddite hasn't yet got his head around the fact that on-line translations are here to stay and it's not a 'sin' to use them rather than taking more than twenty years to learn another language like he has.</p><p style="text-align: center;">******************</p><p style="text-align: left;">We'll leave silly old religion and unimportant languages alone at the moment and move on to other posts. Fence posts.</p><p style="text-align: left;">This morning I did a couple of hours of tree trimming and gardening while it was relatively cool. While trimming the feijoa trees at the back fence - a raggedy old wire fence that separates our property from the farm next door - the farm owner came over for a chat.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCfADFa34Km4erPRGq5hWpsGv4Senjd04y_OGLYx0LiZhyRlhxempwYaKXvdv6eH1agtBgOWbCgQWPKL7LNlJTut1SYGf2HFEFJ_coAPih-iT01j0qQRx9RhAafTFbAe8Ox9fvVa_AdJ1neCsZVvvyF1e_4ouQlvb1PPLWUwvTLx8lZh-E366Fp9br_m3O/s320/IMG_0023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCfADFa34Km4erPRGq5hWpsGv4Senjd04y_OGLYx0LiZhyRlhxempwYaKXvdv6eH1agtBgOWbCgQWPKL7LNlJTut1SYGf2HFEFJ_coAPih-iT01j0qQRx9RhAafTFbAe8Ox9fvVa_AdJ1neCsZVvvyF1e_4ouQlvb1PPLWUwvTLx8lZh-E366Fp9br_m3O/s1600/IMG_0023.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>We discussed sharing the cost of a new fence to replace the sagging wire one. She said that they had a lot of wooden fencing material and so the cost would be in labour and a bit of new stuff. I agreed that a fancy fence wasn't necessary and that a farm-style fence would do - something sturdy to keep the cows and horses from breaking through into our garden.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimLTUwGDvQh8640GdW20fOUiYOmdOpxma5wvYUL0EkGlHLnzKRgeo7FljaCHywPFdcwBwddoTvHKMo_NR5XeMD_0ucHiOoGDTnVjof-rrI87x_GMfpVpOj0Yv0BFc7IN-VQXGatQSaxg50FzTufE1DCR5-QYuDLhvSHxPc6W0izHfiWx57xwb3cMzi07eQ/s236/download.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="214" data-original-width="236" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimLTUwGDvQh8640GdW20fOUiYOmdOpxma5wvYUL0EkGlHLnzKRgeo7FljaCHywPFdcwBwddoTvHKMo_NR5XeMD_0ucHiOoGDTnVjof-rrI87x_GMfpVpOj0Yv0BFc7IN-VQXGatQSaxg50FzTufE1DCR5-QYuDLhvSHxPc6W0izHfiWx57xwb3cMzi07eQ/w313-h284/download.jpeg" width="313" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>The old girl agrees so we'll get that underway soon. If you readers are lucky this could become a post series - a fence post series. Ha ha - you see what I did there?<br /><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p></div>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-82028415054376473682024-03-01T17:42:00.001+13:002024-03-01T17:42:49.453+13:00ANOTHER NEW POST FROM THE RELIGIOUS CURMUDGEON<p> </p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://thereligiouscurmudgeon.blogspot.com/2024/03/lost-in-translation.html">LOST IN TRANSLATION</a><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhheCGYFn9WARTZXJ2u4E2CWBvfzs7fX2GOB3QTwI8pN69_xHHPByKqFd3xoxZNd1afD1FLdBpAgU9WWwRDf8iKgSmlvXJbhZzVR5I9thOUt-MK78x50HSrhqMUBSEUgfHkTlRU6wbueoDSgjCCJqXQDFxzIjM19ApEQRHX4xWfDB4rZZ1c7ormYKGqCh95/s119/abecab2e4dbc2970e80867e7b86668f7--historical-art-beer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="119" data-original-width="94" height="119" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhheCGYFn9WARTZXJ2u4E2CWBvfzs7fX2GOB3QTwI8pN69_xHHPByKqFd3xoxZNd1afD1FLdBpAgU9WWwRDf8iKgSmlvXJbhZzVR5I9thOUt-MK78x50HSrhqMUBSEUgfHkTlRU6wbueoDSgjCCJqXQDFxzIjM19ApEQRHX4xWfDB4rZZ1c7ormYKGqCh95/s1600/abecab2e4dbc2970e80867e7b86668f7--historical-art-beer.jpg" width="94" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-85964571689352698462024-03-01T13:01:00.001+13:002024-03-01T13:01:29.287+13:00NEW POST - THE RELIGIOUS CURMUDGEON<p> </p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://thereligiouscurmudgeon.blogspot.com/2024/03/more-mistakes-sorry-mystics.html">MISTAKES OR MYSTICS?</a><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinPIYaZhpMbwAbhpk3G3J8wazon17gmOL8U48IwIhd3OJ3QOIfk1jrthWhaUomVn6Eu0JYGWaRxTxCBr8ALbGVbbicInCffFWfSsrvMoUZ1PtfzHINQyxT-YhTzO_jFmYaAkibYdvf4v51ssWYlFGlWKvWk35hrbsfUQSV671iUOOYkADj5l3mRUNMfcLB/s297/Religious%20Curmudgeon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="297" data-original-width="236" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinPIYaZhpMbwAbhpk3G3J8wazon17gmOL8U48IwIhd3OJ3QOIfk1jrthWhaUomVn6Eu0JYGWaRxTxCBr8ALbGVbbicInCffFWfSsrvMoUZ1PtfzHINQyxT-YhTzO_jFmYaAkibYdvf4v51ssWYlFGlWKvWk35hrbsfUQSV671iUOOYkADj5l3mRUNMfcLB/s1600/Religious%20Curmudgeon.jpg" width="236" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-13938144079245218302024-02-29T12:51:00.000+13:002024-02-29T12:51:29.030+13:00ON RUDENESS<p>As a curmudgeon I get accused of rudeness from time to time.</p><p>I don't accept this though as I'm not a rude person. I'm actually quite shy and sensitive - ask Mike at the tennis club. I do dislike stupidity though. And arrogance. You might as well add in ignorance, hubris, narcissism, pushiness, bullying, greed, pretentiousness, prissiness and self-importance to the list of my dislikes as well. Actually I dislike quite a few things but ... I'm still not rude. I'm shy and sensitive.</p><p>In Richard's recent post he recounted his experience at a group holiday gathering where he was given the (probably thankless) duty of playing background music on his violin while the others in the group were preparing or waiting for dinner.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheArJFCqZ1eepbCzpXIoMlcSoCJGlDxhnP7t9m5QWtr2yZRYRpvYG38XD_pXRsaxBNiJUMQfQgAX6wOUrdNgxIDwbQ0PrJkZ2shf9h5YX3awI0W9ZOIyCUgddZcGJLfpmlzrAKA73LEeMjs-NgZ9d6QHwizFjFLsNMd9zO3OkmaUuO8WKBVeIY_E-DcV_0/s1292/Screenshot%202024-02-29%20at%2012.29.11.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="762" data-original-width="1292" height="371" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheArJFCqZ1eepbCzpXIoMlcSoCJGlDxhnP7t9m5QWtr2yZRYRpvYG38XD_pXRsaxBNiJUMQfQgAX6wOUrdNgxIDwbQ0PrJkZ2shf9h5YX3awI0W9ZOIyCUgddZcGJLfpmlzrAKA73LEeMjs-NgZ9d6QHwizFjFLsNMd9zO3OkmaUuO8WKBVeIY_E-DcV_0/w629-h371/Screenshot%202024-02-29%20at%2012.29.11.png" width="629" /></a></div><br /><p>Now I dislike a lot of things as I said above and maybe this includes Bossa Nova but I would never be so rude as that fucker who plugged his phone into Richard's amp to play some bloody Neil Diamond music. What was the song? Probably 'I AM... I SAID' going by his arrogance.</p><p>I guess that Richard did the right thing in the situation by quietly obliging and packing his stuff up. It would have made for an uncomfortable dinner if he'd told the fucker to fucking well fuck off. I hope that he slipped a bogey or something into his pudding when he wasn't watching.</p><p>I might think about the examples of rudeness that I've encountered. This, if you're lucky could become a new series.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7MXaLx1i2pxraMHDlLj8ts2I8CaqXjkrfEIcs_csq1Gl-UcjJNXtLeX_3NPm9vlbcVLujhsmjU5kni8HpAXuWM8lwghcsT8FaVk4-K7WOiTv-3Wkfm2wz05RQGpuGZi0_2WhhMng2fbIdY8K6KU8ils4jry6oN74VTROkiEEW2Rsk4RSfYtlEbXabl5ws/s229/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="220" data-original-width="229" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7MXaLx1i2pxraMHDlLj8ts2I8CaqXjkrfEIcs_csq1Gl-UcjJNXtLeX_3NPm9vlbcVLujhsmjU5kni8HpAXuWM8lwghcsT8FaVk4-K7WOiTv-3Wkfm2wz05RQGpuGZi0_2WhhMng2fbIdY8K6KU8ils4jry6oN74VTROkiEEW2Rsk4RSfYtlEbXabl5ws/w400-h384/images.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /> <p></p>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-8672797880829499672024-02-28T16:29:00.009+13:002024-02-28T16:30:45.819+13:00FIVE FOR FIFTEEN*<p>It seems that the exciting <i>Bassic Instinct</i> post was too exciting for some of the readers so I'd better tone things down a bit with this post.</p><p></p><blockquote><p><br /></p><p><i>"I couldn't sleep - my heart was racing after reading your post."</i></p><p>Richard (of RBB).</p><p><br /></p><p><i>"I had to pray to Luz de Maria to settle down after that."</i></p><p>- Robert ka kite i nga mea i te rangi</p></blockquote><p><br /></p><p>* <i>Not one of my bowling performances from my cricket glory days.</i></p><p>Today I played golf - the first time for a long while. I went out at 11.30 thinking that it would be too hot later. As it turned out it was too hot at midday so I only played 5 holes. I did however find 15 golf balls in the copse of trees by the creek at the back of the 5th hole. </p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQEOIpAmJGTH1S4tVf-l8ouAuvC3dr7yfDf5c0PrOPgX2unQe4HlMnbvLKPZzpWBmTZSaTEkc0Kc7tJocwl3uN90blaoWkezXfeePqkcqmXE7jH42eqG510d31i8DzBWQfVMBZtBVnnwsLAoSXqNqzl35xV1QJ5EYR6koA1-EuhlqWqVYlpHeEfwceV-Rx/s225/download.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQEOIpAmJGTH1S4tVf-l8ouAuvC3dr7yfDf5c0PrOPgX2unQe4HlMnbvLKPZzpWBmTZSaTEkc0Kc7tJocwl3uN90blaoWkezXfeePqkcqmXE7jH42eqG510d31i8DzBWQfVMBZtBVnnwsLAoSXqNqzl35xV1QJ5EYR6koA1-EuhlqWqVYlpHeEfwceV-Rx/w200-h200/download.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div><p><br /></p>The big hitters on the tee of the 6th hole, when they slice the ball tend to hit it into these trees. Often they don't bother or don't have time to look for the ball. One guy must have been having a bad day as I found two Optima balls that looked brand new-just out of the box, They were about 20 metres apart and it looked like the hitter had taken another shot after losing the first ball and getting the same bad result. Bad for him - good for me which I think George Orwell might have said.<p></p><br /><p><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinqgnVH9NFoXcEfRduVvP1C2m03gsy_UdF8M75XZ4lJUS39yyjcCYKvsvOnxsx7uLD-xP6-B8dDDt6zNPZAYZVIrC9qvpVdytzTre8hxxhoR4exbqJizIo5x-vHh94EUVpGGjjESOs89PmuBiNbRvy-0Sey0MUzL2aNmuH-MT-w17nC66VZTv0T3wrKQZm/s238/download%20(1).jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="238" data-original-width="212" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinqgnVH9NFoXcEfRduVvP1C2m03gsy_UdF8M75XZ4lJUS39yyjcCYKvsvOnxsx7uLD-xP6-B8dDDt6zNPZAYZVIrC9qvpVdytzTre8hxxhoR4exbqJizIo5x-vHh94EUVpGGjjESOs89PmuBiNbRvy-0Sey0MUzL2aNmuH-MT-w17nC66VZTv0T3wrKQZm/s1600/download%20(1).jpeg" width="212" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><i>"I wish that I'd said that".</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>I headed home and ermt for a swim before having a late lunch - butter chicken pie bought from the bakery. This cooled me down (the swim not the pie) and I've been having a relaxing afternoon reading.</p><p><br /></p><p>Dinner for me this evening will be linguine with pesto and pine nuts.</p><p></p>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-15779401190109170532024-02-27T17:00:00.004+13:002024-02-27T17:00:39.986+13:00NEW POST - THE RELIGIOUS CURMUDGEON<p> </p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://thereligiouscurmudgeon.blogspot.com/2024/02/mum-hes-at-it-again.html">SOME MORE MYSTICAL NONSENSE</a><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw06BHZmtAjCf2OVAXyhsV_vsdGtAhA9rOHacwCbMiL3gaf4hpYSjAg8dd4mYq-0Gfw8s0Pu5HPdT5SckDlZuRc-TXlGNdgBX_huEr8hmkz4FQ8oqUWeeeTHuuy4Zof05BeE9LXtJ8p0Y3u959zujX64-234GWn-xjJF9uwU3TPtOi-eY6BD-NhtHFeCcL/s297/Religious%20Curmudgeon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="297" data-original-width="236" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw06BHZmtAjCf2OVAXyhsV_vsdGtAhA9rOHacwCbMiL3gaf4hpYSjAg8dd4mYq-0Gfw8s0Pu5HPdT5SckDlZuRc-TXlGNdgBX_huEr8hmkz4FQ8oqUWeeeTHuuy4Zof05BeE9LXtJ8p0Y3u959zujX64-234GWn-xjJF9uwU3TPtOi-eY6BD-NhtHFeCcL/s1600/Religious%20Curmudgeon.jpg" width="236" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Really. This time I could hardly be bothered."</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-49926453040999117122024-02-26T10:52:00.002+13:002024-02-26T10:52:58.749+13:00BASSIC INSTINCT *<p> The Curmudgeon stirred in his sleep. Something at the edge of his subconscious had pulled him from the deep dream he'd been having of Isabelle Adjani.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaFkfFpseZzPG45IwW35W98oYdi0nHS-dtIXfk6_8D78tlUIUUY5iLkjHvIhvgaVYPFlYIGz0txBZKwLdE-xHUtP_l9FVRdog0d8NJD99_oDuS2V49kauFQt1E-YJoIuWJ6A1a30laHxW2f-RpgOp1EQZ13XSuG6WOdrk7_P2I_Ia8wl3noYrMBRoqPY9M/s275/download.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="183" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaFkfFpseZzPG45IwW35W98oYdi0nHS-dtIXfk6_8D78tlUIUUY5iLkjHvIhvgaVYPFlYIGz0txBZKwLdE-xHUtP_l9FVRdog0d8NJD99_oDuS2V49kauFQt1E-YJoIuWJ6A1a30laHxW2f-RpgOp1EQZ13XSuG6WOdrk7_P2I_Ia8wl3noYrMBRoqPY9M/w133-h200/download.jpeg" width="133" /></a></div><div><br /></div>A tapping noise, at once rhythmic but annoying had intruded. He woke and reached out for Isabelle ... sorry, The Old Girl but she wasn't there! "WTF?" he thought before remembering that she was away working for 6 weeks in Pamukkalle Valley, Turkey. He eased himself to the edge of the bed and listened intently. Yes, there it was again, a rhythmic but annoying tapping. It couldn't be .....<div><br /></div><div>Richard had positioned himself on the rise at the rear of The Curmudgeon's house. It had a clear view of the master bedroom windows and he had concentrated on the left one - the one that, when the blinds were opened afforded the best view of the majestic Mount Manaia.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5gueoZvJAQSV9RyaddEi6H6GUyW-KyoZbZOaIdRpJ2IYvl_9ECGg5Ve162Priex1UeaQyd3yDpxx04brexFZLQ0iUQBAGqNipeneBxZd_ZNOYF0A_suM1MaZBYLFK7K3nDs-G8sN_JifT3YwF35syqLgTXxoQ3KEebwp_-fr623inBMTAnU9ixNQSTQ-v/s400/DSCF5736.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="266" data-original-width="400" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5gueoZvJAQSV9RyaddEi6H6GUyW-KyoZbZOaIdRpJ2IYvl_9ECGg5Ve162Priex1UeaQyd3yDpxx04brexFZLQ0iUQBAGqNipeneBxZd_ZNOYF0A_suM1MaZBYLFK7K3nDs-G8sN_JifT3YwF35syqLgTXxoQ3KEebwp_-fr623inBMTAnU9ixNQSTQ-v/s320/DSCF5736.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></blockquote>His preliminary observations had confirmed that The Curmudgeon opened the blinds each morning and looked at the mountain. It was a magnificent sight ... well, TC was always naked.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Richard had scoped in the shot he planned to take and had researched wind and temperature conditions that would affect the trajectory of the bullet. He was ready.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">He was too ready in effect and, inexplicably given his career choice and the musical instruments he played, was bored. He found himself humming that Czardas tune and involuntary tapping out what he thought was the beat on the stock of his rifle - the Springfield M25 7.62mm he favoured. He drifted a bit. Well, at his age he drifted a lot and was surprised when the window blinds were suddenly raised and The Curmudgeon looked out. TC was looking out directly at where Richard was nestled at the top of the rise. Panicked, Richard took the shot but, instead of gently squeezing the trigger he pulled it rather violently and the shot, the cheap shot went astray.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhte5A7OVtrqeGupGwLMtdp-m0ox6vc-yuyAtjyOK7E7cl2BO_bI-vjlmOiLAnz_yACa9IC55p0SyLOj0eDzVsHEcaC1b4gCVDZT4CerRppymoPI7pFOAyYY1gdTd3X5Q-EBILckV5_F-_8qaHtKwM6TW68mhmnQCcaky8b2bMhl2QKyiKWmNIfEaH0AuCy/s275/images.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhte5A7OVtrqeGupGwLMtdp-m0ox6vc-yuyAtjyOK7E7cl2BO_bI-vjlmOiLAnz_yACa9IC55p0SyLOj0eDzVsHEcaC1b4gCVDZT4CerRppymoPI7pFOAyYY1gdTd3X5Q-EBILckV5_F-_8qaHtKwM6TW68mhmnQCcaky8b2bMhl2QKyiKWmNIfEaH0AuCy/s1600/images.jpeg" width="275" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Curmudgeon, after raising the blinds, instead of looking directly at the mountain, had, due to that annoying sound turned his head to the right. He saw something - a frantic movement a microsecond before the window exploded and a projectile tore past his ear. "Fuck!" he exclaimed. He looked down and quickly covered himself "Bloody Isabelle Adjani" he thought as he brushed off bits of glass and struggled into underpants (Swanndri red tartan) and shorts. Richard!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiynkYxNeLfW5bfWG1Euk2ctDrFfuRwU9HjB2mghME3gcgPUQSM3P4g5eKL2kcYonf6jhZVt6GyUgjDwrOsicDSk5O254CwuJzU6V1OSSMsPPRwywFkh-KzPT7Br0c9NboT3dltI_gui45U2knoeKPAGCMjwGs4HBlJ-5BwVElx_i9Co1fd4iDrlIKuFrXP/s228/images%20(2).jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="228" data-original-width="221" height="139" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiynkYxNeLfW5bfWG1Euk2ctDrFfuRwU9HjB2mghME3gcgPUQSM3P4g5eKL2kcYonf6jhZVt6GyUgjDwrOsicDSk5O254CwuJzU6V1OSSMsPPRwywFkh-KzPT7Br0c9NboT3dltI_gui45U2knoeKPAGCMjwGs4HBlJ-5BwVElx_i9Co1fd4iDrlIKuFrXP/w137-h139/images%20(2).jpeg" width="137" /></a></div>Richard cursed and quickly packed away his weapon, collected his things that were scattered around him. He only had the essentials - double bass, metronome, violin, violin strings, extra violin strings, coffee in a thermos, bag of meat pies, spare underpants (Swanndri green tartan), incontinence pants (just in case), self-improvement book, Italian dictionary, cellphone, slippers, medicines (heart, piles, anxiety, headache, arthritis, rheumatism, gout, constipation, flatulence and the special little blue ones). He packed these into the large suitcase, shouldered the rifle in its carry bag, grabbed the suitcase and headed off to his car that he'd 'conveniently' parked a kilometre away. "Hey! the parking was cheaper there" he remonstrated with himself.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Curmudgeon swung into action. He creaked his way to a standing position and looked around for his socks which he eventually found under the bed. This involved getting down on one knee and gently rolling over on to his side to reach under the bed. He creaked his way back to a sitting position and put them on. "T-shirt" he thought and picked up the one on the floor, turned it the right side out and proceeded to put it on "Bugger" he thought when he looked down to see that it was stained with sauce from the pasta Siciliana he'd had for dinner the night before. "The Old Girl won't like that" he said to himself and went to his shirt drawer to find a clean one. He finished dressing and, put his shoes on and <strike>raced</strike> went to the back door. He didn't see but heard an old Mitsubishi car <strike>racing</strike> crawling away in the distance, "Bugger" he said.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">TC knew that it would be hopeless to pursue Richard. This wasn't because he wouldn't be able to overtake him, the way he drove. No it was because he had a flat tyre. That slow leak had gotten worse. He'd purchased a new 12v air compressor only a few days earlier but hadn't yet taken it out of the box or read the instructions for use.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHTP9UkhrOxZ_bhMkpBX1NffWW6w5Rc4d-6NGUfemNcBN-nHIethDqG5p2oIDVX_47KsuLYEtkcSmDssgYsmYXFZ0hDUN5XvnphJiyBZFoAbwhmLF0PwIyVaRuAi4GjjMmJxnXV41BzknCV6uPJc74cNS6HgL6jzvJ-W7zSqiD56g7dEY2S9sdegzKXCdd/s4032/IMG_5177.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHTP9UkhrOxZ_bhMkpBX1NffWW6w5Rc4d-6NGUfemNcBN-nHIethDqG5p2oIDVX_47KsuLYEtkcSmDssgYsmYXFZ0hDUN5XvnphJiyBZFoAbwhmLF0PwIyVaRuAi4GjjMmJxnXV41BzknCV6uPJc74cNS6HgL6jzvJ-W7zSqiD56g7dEY2S9sdegzKXCdd/s320/IMG_5177.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">He knew what he had to do. He had to call Mike. Mike from tennis. I know what you readers think - Mike from tennis is a pain in the arse but - he has connections. TC eventually got hold of Mike, explained the situation and his suspicion that Richard was behind it. Mike said that he 'knew some people' and would get on to it. Before he could start an argument about the Labour Party, gun control, Trumpism and Princess Di, TC put the phone down.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Mike indeed 'knew some people'. He had in his early life been a member of the special forces (SAS) and later had been seconded to the New Zealand Security Intelligence Service (SIS). It didn't take long for his old contacts to find and update Richard's file. Richard was on file you see from his days as president of a fringe university group that had been initially labelled as dangerous, then downgraded to annoying and ultimately as harmless. It stayed on record though and Richard had for the last 50 years been under 'soft' surveillance. The SIS knew for example that he had been cultivating contacts with Italian dissidents and had hosted one recently. Watchers had reported his movements often involving carrying large bags of bulky equipment and of creating horrendous noises at night inside his house.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Mike's contact reported back that Richard, after leaving Whangarei had gone to ground somewhere. Undeterred they had then <strike>interrogated </strike>interviewed Richard's family members as to his whereabouts. All but one, being suspicious of the SIS and protective of Richard, assured the SIS officers that they did not know where he was. The one however, a brother named Robert said "I can't lie as that's a sin. I think that Richard's favourite town is Foxton. He enjoys staying in a motel there." </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">*******</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">EPILOGUE</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The motel in Foxton was raided' by the special forces on SIS instructions. The Springfield rifle was never recovered nor was the double bass or the violins (domestic ones). There was no sign of Richard or the old Mitsubishi motorcar. A thorough search uncovered a bizarre stash of old MAN magazines and other 1950s and early 1960s 'porn', empty and as yet unidentified wine bottles and huge boxes of rusted Evah Pirazzi violin strings. Investigations are still on-going.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Curmudgeon, after having had the window mended and cleaning up all evidence of the event 'before The Old Girl got home' went about his business as normal. Well, nearly normal. He never again stood naked in front of that window that looked out on Mount Manaia and especially not after waking from a dream about Isabelle Adjani,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Robert sat in the confessional at Saint 'Salive church. He was mumbling and his confessor Father Offshaw had to ask him to speak up. "I prayed for him Father, I really did." he said through tears. "Ah don't fuss yersel' Rob" said the confessor "He was goin' to Hell anyways."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwbWWFF6b41AkePFu3lDTE25qbARzt7-o9pvjUagPmo-I4z_qLYdt4krdqprh0Weodg1TWyeQbGGzcVtQcCPrzgWzgV6vTrQnun-PsJdBKvQPQlcyq4jllcFqpHXSb8e3Y8LrhGZmEaWReLPBufvYPuCvUDteR9YD1zT7jXiVA6r9dGcAV68YBJrAjUsM8/s290/download.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="174" data-original-width="290" height="174" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwbWWFF6b41AkePFu3lDTE25qbARzt7-o9pvjUagPmo-I4z_qLYdt4krdqprh0Weodg1TWyeQbGGzcVtQcCPrzgWzgV6vTrQnun-PsJdBKvQPQlcyq4jllcFqpHXSb8e3Y8LrhGZmEaWReLPBufvYPuCvUDteR9YD1zT7jXiVA6r9dGcAV68YBJrAjUsM8/s1600/download.jpeg" width="290" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">* A reader had complained that the posts are boring so I felt that a bit of excitement was needed in the posts kind of like the Denzil Meyrick novels I've been reading.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiohHBP8hNOd-SwVhQ2t-tRb7crLt4UmISviARQeTTKdWbUj_JNatKKSz0OXlFB3WfzbMJuI-82UYfuyqKhgPakLATd3Ekua9S5E3Ns-0Wzcl0q99USOWFfuL33NaxiaTjBBTKOvrLMwJEbSX3i84fax8gLHo9T76ngsDF9CptECOff44j-VVNm29U_RZKK/s922/Screenshot%202024-02-26%20at%2010.23.05.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="184" data-original-width="922" height="105" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiohHBP8hNOd-SwVhQ2t-tRb7crLt4UmISviARQeTTKdWbUj_JNatKKSz0OXlFB3WfzbMJuI-82UYfuyqKhgPakLATd3Ekua9S5E3Ns-0Wzcl0q99USOWFfuL33NaxiaTjBBTKOvrLMwJEbSX3i84fax8gLHo9T76ngsDF9CptECOff44j-VVNm29U_RZKK/w526-h105/Screenshot%202024-02-26%20at%2010.23.05.png" width="526" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-2691484115898931382024-02-25T13:40:00.000+13:002024-02-25T13:40:14.885+13:00NOSUNDAY<p>It's a rainy Sunday but fortunately the cricket is on TV - T20 NZ vs Australia.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8PpOCzudJY97RMsGfMaduUZq6yo0Ch37PmuMevxZg8kL-09lDFMOJHcIH3tPdusJK6fQLXD5bUG8laERLau4y_QaKmsvGynJV4XefQIp7H_WKOQ7U8froYFMexiljg_vdeVwx-zmM3T74A7dCBIbSQ50BGn_SshsHaW0gsYs_sNMsQ8zFu_WjwbIRBwN5/s311/download.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="162" data-original-width="311" height="162" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8PpOCzudJY97RMsGfMaduUZq6yo0Ch37PmuMevxZg8kL-09lDFMOJHcIH3tPdusJK6fQLXD5bUG8laERLau4y_QaKmsvGynJV4XefQIp7H_WKOQ7U8froYFMexiljg_vdeVwx-zmM3T74A7dCBIbSQ50BGn_SshsHaW0gsYs_sNMsQ8zFu_WjwbIRBwN5/s1600/download.jpeg" width="311" /></a></div><br /><p>I'm sitting at the dining table typing this on the laptop as The Old Girl is working in the study. I'm set up for the afternoon and am just hoping that rain in Auckland won't stop or disrupt play. We need to win this game after losing the first two.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9FsnFBINBP6S9CoNdFN4aajTl6W_7-WgcGTGQorsuf42AZk734y_wAs9-Z8dA7oBiU6Pnd-jCBRRiSc0Eji914VNBMYAcRBjVkJ3D9eydPcnUyBWe-xRh0NdsPZyOp0R4o1T9i-CTKuSQDI1QpbM845sDGzAHiWS6ZtDVgjir9MJW87_66czXOZ1PcaQM/s299/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="299" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9FsnFBINBP6S9CoNdFN4aajTl6W_7-WgcGTGQorsuf42AZk734y_wAs9-Z8dA7oBiU6Pnd-jCBRRiSc0Eji914VNBMYAcRBjVkJ3D9eydPcnUyBWe-xRh0NdsPZyOp0R4o1T9i-CTKuSQDI1QpbM845sDGzAHiWS6ZtDVgjir9MJW87_66czXOZ1PcaQM/s1600/images.jpeg" width="299" /></a></div><br /><p>I have a loaf baking - a combination of wholemeal and pumpernickel (farting devil).</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjawTJG7nhDay1J3iegjb1PhGqh-G-GZ0JPd6DcRPwU6BUgCGMu-w9cnd_GSUUYAacu3KAltl7bMowY2hk5Ri0YOpyvuW8KNAVh4n3g2yijlHiT_aBHwlNvDT8sw7lj0g_aUA-LnhUOZvOMPtMYrgA0bDZ6jXnbH5VMMSxlt3TEnqATg5vLWVhIsFyQcacH/s120/download%20(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="120" data-original-width="94" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjawTJG7nhDay1J3iegjb1PhGqh-G-GZ0JPd6DcRPwU6BUgCGMu-w9cnd_GSUUYAacu3KAltl7bMowY2hk5Ri0YOpyvuW8KNAVh4n3g2yijlHiT_aBHwlNvDT8sw7lj0g_aUA-LnhUOZvOMPtMYrgA0bDZ6jXnbH5VMMSxlt3TEnqATg5vLWVhIsFyQcacH/w141-h179/download%20(1).jpg" width="141" /></a></div><br /><p>I guess that Richard was eating this in Marton as according to Robert he'd be using his rear to good effect on the garden tours although anyone following him wouldn't think it was funny.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLJK0AhRJtKSeM9kWXlfftLqiyp9fh5kFTFE8crGJFAgUxpeWCqqViTaP0-gfYLvkdKL_kZcu3lcAY2zBO6k6WApt7013R4X2vDAlHbYzTBNZwcynV-9Scuh5eGyKsP5Nl4qcxjuUIq6_jv8zrSR3WZvznDQWMN4J6Z16xFWgFaOmBQwGnPtkA6KScOvGe/s1478/Screenshot%202024-02-25%20at%2013.25.20.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="186" data-original-width="1478" height="70" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLJK0AhRJtKSeM9kWXlfftLqiyp9fh5kFTFE8crGJFAgUxpeWCqqViTaP0-gfYLvkdKL_kZcu3lcAY2zBO6k6WApt7013R4X2vDAlHbYzTBNZwcynV-9Scuh5eGyKsP5Nl4qcxjuUIq6_jv8zrSR3WZvznDQWMN4J6Z16xFWgFaOmBQwGnPtkA6KScOvGe/w559-h70/Screenshot%202024-02-25%20at%2013.25.20.png" width="559" /></a></div><br /><p>The cricket score after 5 overs isn't good with Australia on 66 for 1 after a flurry of 4s and 6s and three dropped catches!</p><p><br /></p><p>Maybe it'd be a good thing if the game was rained out ..... oops, hold on, NZ held on to a catch so it's now 67 for 2.</p><p>Oh - hold on again - it's raining and they have left the pitch.</p><p><br /></p><p>Ho hum! I'll go and pre-prepare my pizza for dinner.</p>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-79847820385473052042024-02-24T20:50:00.000+13:002024-02-24T20:50:01.034+13:00"ON THE FOURTH DAY ..."<p> Regular readers will be aware that I have had some problems with keyboard lighting for the computer in the study.</p><p>I solved the problem, you remember for the keyboard to the laptop I use in the lounge. In case you've forgotten here's a refresher: <a href="https://grumpyoldmanreturnsnz.blogspot.com/2023/08/shine-light-on-me-keyboard.html">LOUNGE KEYBOARD</a></p><p>When The Old Girl's away I've been nabbing the upright lamp system she uses in the rear lounge:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRKyztm_LiDOOuwIOiPO5kKVs84ashBo2WhgkMFDFT6Xtqry7qUfX7wSbJSF68J2t1K6ou0L4yroTSSrohT-Bq2mbAXlM2zR4jQ9IfP_flhqv9Xz_7I7TjdQJfyYIZgdC1lSXY6-zd_IGvVqhPIJ-qRl4vs2gcQmNzfGm6EKQHytjJBx9DaMLQN0eT6oBh/s282/Screen%20Shot%202024-02-24%20at%204.27.23%20PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="282" data-original-width="276" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRKyztm_LiDOOuwIOiPO5kKVs84ashBo2WhgkMFDFT6Xtqry7qUfX7wSbJSF68J2t1K6ou0L4yroTSSrohT-Bq2mbAXlM2zR4jQ9IfP_flhqv9Xz_7I7TjdQJfyYIZgdC1lSXY6-zd_IGvVqhPIJ-qRl4vs2gcQmNzfGm6EKQHytjJBx9DaMLQN0eT6oBh/s1600/Screen%20Shot%202024-02-24%20at%204.27.23%20PM.png" width="276" /></a></div><br /><p>This is a hassle setting up however and I run the risk of forgetting to put it back before she arrives home. Not to be recommended.</p><p>I've tried various other lamps we have in the house but none have been satisfactory.</p><p>Yesterday however I found the ideal lamp that directs the light, not too bright, right on to the keyboard while being able to be tucked to the side and not obstruct the view of the screen or take up too much space.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpB0VfFzVLFhM2UL7ZBVtjRSmwF8gVnwOK5SNLGwew1XeJGXeJT-pISYRH34CWnL-v8ca9itJmwv8OH8LuezO3W3R4tTgHQSKIo7K5viMyinOeAIpt5uv1IkTNk0H2_b08oySso6WdNps5Rb0AI6uDn6kNYX1yRaLLPT0jbxxDy3Z6cfny_zos5R95pBoL/s4032/IMG_5178.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpB0VfFzVLFhM2UL7ZBVtjRSmwF8gVnwOK5SNLGwew1XeJGXeJT-pISYRH34CWnL-v8ca9itJmwv8OH8LuezO3W3R4tTgHQSKIo7K5viMyinOeAIpt5uv1IkTNk0H2_b08oySso6WdNps5Rb0AI6uDn6kNYX1yRaLLPT0jbxxDy3Z6cfny_zos5R95pBoL/s320/IMG_5178.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>Perfect, and it only cost $6 at the OP Shop.</p><p><br /></p>THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7619654581009531930.post-15999032991486482442024-02-24T15:41:00.008+13:002024-02-24T15:47:00.748+13:00"AND WE'VE GOT TO GET OURSELVES BACK TO THE GARDEN"<p></p><div style="text-align: center;">🎵 "<i>We are stardust, we are golden. We are billion-year-old carbon.</i></div><i><div style="text-align: center;"><i>And we've got to get ourselves back to the garden"</i>🎵</div></i><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7UDwBT3DHlUYNq_gkfvXuNUL95YcCx-92ATZQsGMHllZUZoy0jt7VlHztk-WhHqENVYy_FGid69WAoWmG7Mbf1qmHj6FkK4Wr2HbKuMSby9IaaxtGssFEA2pi16puZYh7J5AoXJ7y4FrMQMi3z99UbGwQkW03dd_nw5rjjckcisVNadNHm1cGlGQNdoTn/s574/2020-10-14.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="384" data-original-width="574" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7UDwBT3DHlUYNq_gkfvXuNUL95YcCx-92ATZQsGMHllZUZoy0jt7VlHztk-WhHqENVYy_FGid69WAoWmG7Mbf1qmHj6FkK4Wr2HbKuMSby9IaaxtGssFEA2pi16puZYh7J5AoXJ7y4FrMQMi3z99UbGwQkW03dd_nw5rjjckcisVNadNHm1cGlGQNdoTn/w400-h268/2020-10-14.webp" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>Shelley has taken Richard away for a few days of pastoral delight. </p><p>They've gone to Marton to look at and walk in gardens. I guess it's sort of like Adam and Eve but with clothes on (hopefully).</p><blockquote><i>"Like I said, I'm off work today. That'll mean some practice being done. Tomorrow we're heading up to Marton. Yes, I know, no one heads up to Marton.<br />Well, some friends have rented a posh house in the country, near Marton, and we are part of the ten people stating there for three nights. <br />The idea is that we visit exciting local attractions, like expensive-to-see gardens. Sounds just like my thing!<br />I suppose that I could stay in the house near to nowhere and do some violin practice. Well, actually, I'm already paid up to see the expensive gardens, so I might as well have a look - there's nothing like a good walk."</i></blockquote><p> - Richard (of Richard's Bass Bag) 21 February 2024 </p><div><br /></div><div>I hope that he's careful where he walks in those fancy gardens. Tiptoeing is best I think.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/zcSlcNfThUA" width="320" youtube-src-id="zcSlcNfThUA"></iframe></div><br /><p>I think that this is where they are staying - an elegant country estate.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuxpoEuOPHLSQx5xpZef7beqct50X1shEBL7b6NX_h3A8Qr9TQDzLp7QIVmQ2lmS8tSA80FPHI_efKTnjQmmCUJvQ5gDOd8RKTd_gI9rHIYbXzkB8msRmlgratd-ybrqOEioGoTb7YkhJ8G3H42kHsy9njEGHTa-MbhoRaIkeOnesnu2YeY_FQ0K_Nly2v/s800/800-Halcombe-Rd_002.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="800" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuxpoEuOPHLSQx5xpZef7beqct50X1shEBL7b6NX_h3A8Qr9TQDzLp7QIVmQ2lmS8tSA80FPHI_efKTnjQmmCUJvQ5gDOd8RKTd_gI9rHIYbXzkB8msRmlgratd-ybrqOEioGoTb7YkhJ8G3H42kHsy9njEGHTa-MbhoRaIkeOnesnu2YeY_FQ0K_Nly2v/w400-h225/800-Halcombe-Rd_002.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUT2N92EulHyNZWd_KPO0nw9ojw8wYivvXxIxbrhCJiQnKvPkc7E-Q4yvMqnwv2_zytMzNUhiKWSTTRAoZHFcmlWkKQiinvzkmHNEBM0GqlBSaO0v6PnttWLtNsLBvMnEniKyTdXen3LaANfImK0vy5vONbdrliD0BqEzq_M3BAe93VS9aFRgENVmL3s-v/s246/g.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="185" data-original-width="246" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUT2N92EulHyNZWd_KPO0nw9ojw8wYivvXxIxbrhCJiQnKvPkc7E-Q4yvMqnwv2_zytMzNUhiKWSTTRAoZHFcmlWkKQiinvzkmHNEBM0GqlBSaO0v6PnttWLtNsLBvMnEniKyTdXen3LaANfImK0vy5vONbdrliD0BqEzq_M3BAe93VS9aFRgENVmL3s-v/w369-h278/g.jpeg" width="369" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>He say's that there will be 10 of them staying there so it'll be a wild old time in Marton this weekend.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFunH7QDA-uczlduqWs692Pr_iLLu40PEqD8HyWi2gtIsQJVT0nVaGc2PJjA1v8phyy7aMQNjRzd9xDdQKd4DZf3zpVFsmcPjH4FBuEc4AGSjE5G2wkN_UdRk3jDLfy0Ih3QgvzlABC5HxCol5uwFB79wbWQA0gDgE_9BxXNj3Af5kcp-9XxBbllc9quYZ/s800/Group.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="580" data-original-width="800" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFunH7QDA-uczlduqWs692Pr_iLLu40PEqD8HyWi2gtIsQJVT0nVaGc2PJjA1v8phyy7aMQNjRzd9xDdQKd4DZf3zpVFsmcPjH4FBuEc4AGSjE5G2wkN_UdRk3jDLfy0Ih3QgvzlABC5HxCol5uwFB79wbWQA0gDgE_9BxXNj3Af5kcp-9XxBbllc9quYZ/w400-h290/Group.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div>The estate has nice gardens and is close to other estates providing private garden visits.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisvh5hED_WcYSIE2uPpFlVDgEsHA81BNzZ1apRz9JMryV3RjMEpmWVMR1X-CW4zz1rWPuTt9ziR3NUO2a8SkvMouQr4-9HlLkPq8v5rtMWT3Qox3mcwXde9gCoKiN3WhdpC9hSSDHnq0DI-OH6-EfnKiqvJHpw-9x7CLXiBw_gFxOe4JmrqnYADqTH1Q7x/s1689/Cross-Hills-Gardens-courtesy-irongates.co_.nz_.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1131" data-original-width="1689" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisvh5hED_WcYSIE2uPpFlVDgEsHA81BNzZ1apRz9JMryV3RjMEpmWVMR1X-CW4zz1rWPuTt9ziR3NUO2a8SkvMouQr4-9HlLkPq8v5rtMWT3Qox3mcwXde9gCoKiN3WhdpC9hSSDHnq0DI-OH6-EfnKiqvJHpw-9x7CLXiBw_gFxOe4JmrqnYADqTH1Q7x/w400-h268/Cross-Hills-Gardens-courtesy-irongates.co_.nz_.webp" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>I hope that he behaves himself given that he's been obsessing over gumboot throwing recently.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguwxUlN90nXQHPhHAKADwojl906R-zi58cUh1lict1uWDYd083qlyfUoYEcdiNaBrsyZvfsk1eoKQekPmhoXsVRSs9nA1x3wBuzxr7skOGKTZ2JjKgAvhjxRVeiPRZ3IJ_wcvrUbbUIH1ov2ER3Py18zMq_PNTlRFeEpJ-X-c0RR4TaXA8bZlDxH3BnrAg/s595/Gumboots-595x224.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="224" data-original-width="595" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguwxUlN90nXQHPhHAKADwojl906R-zi58cUh1lict1uWDYd083qlyfUoYEcdiNaBrsyZvfsk1eoKQekPmhoXsVRSs9nA1x3wBuzxr7skOGKTZ2JjKgAvhjxRVeiPRZ3IJ_wcvrUbbUIH1ov2ER3Py18zMq_PNTlRFeEpJ-X-c0RR4TaXA8bZlDxH3BnrAg/w400-h150/Gumboots-595x224.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leave these bad boys in the car Richard</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Let's hope that the gardens aren't left looking like this after his visit.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyBuVp1Sb7ICYNkHIogj86T0TsSpqA5atB7XBjKHKXVuHKg6ASbjENmpHpRrUPwwvnXtNbPfnJNdDxfpF-mUC_J_PO_U_xrcD05nYRyBBzXfG0fKjO5xJDwwek9LwKWKndB_TpOgtdnMBymWbJmM9hfu_BGz5Kz8tAO2iDugIsBy81wlRuTKa4odpGTt7d/s480/image.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="270" data-original-width="480" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyBuVp1Sb7ICYNkHIogj86T0TsSpqA5atB7XBjKHKXVuHKg6ASbjENmpHpRrUPwwvnXtNbPfnJNdDxfpF-mUC_J_PO_U_xrcD05nYRyBBzXfG0fKjO5xJDwwek9LwKWKndB_TpOgtdnMBymWbJmM9hfu_BGz5Kz8tAO2iDugIsBy81wlRuTKa4odpGTt7d/w400-h225/image.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />THE CURMUDGEONhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747720629076703739noreply@blogger.com2