NOT WAVING BUT DROWNING

 

Not Waving but Drowning 
Stevie Smith

 Nobody heard him, the dead man,

But still he lay moaning:

I was much further out than you thought

And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking

And now he’s dead

It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,

They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always

(Still the dead one lay moaning)

I was much too far out all my life

And not waving but drowning.

**************************

This seems appropriate. It's how I feel in this blogging community sometimes.

HIT THE ROAD JACK

 

We've had a couple of cyclones up north (that have gone on to munt the East Coast even worse) that have destroyed infrastructure like bridges and roads, isolating communities and waking everyone up to how fragile our existence really is compared to natural forces ... or have they?

The various contractors commissioned by the roading authorities and councils got straight on to fixing problems and, I have to say have done a great job in doing (temporary) fixes to get people moving again. Good on them. I complimented them in a Facebook Neighbourly post today only to get a whole lot of mean and useless cun.. sods responding how useless the fixes were.

OK, I know that temporary fixes are - just that ... temporary, and most of the problems with our roading both major and minor come from 'under' flooding rather than surface flooding. This is a major engineering problem that doesn't get fixed in a day. When engineers try to fix the 'root' problems like the Brynderwyn slips and close down roads for weeks or months, the bleating idiots complain like hell and demand that they can drive over the roads as soon as possible. Look, that's not going to happen in New Zealand unless we all commit to whatever government spending a trillion dollars to fix, rebuild and create new infra-structure. The limited budgeting approach by councils and central government is just going to do quick fix jobs that will be temporary until the next rainstorms or cyclones. We all have to wake up to this. We live in a long and skinny country that is geologically unstable and very vulnerable to adverse weather events. Crossing fingers and harking back to the past and its practices isn't going to solve this.

I hit the road Jack and don't wanna come back no more, no more, no more, no more, no more.

I hit the road Jack and don't wanna come back no more.

 What you say? 

I hit the road Jack and don't wanna come back no more, no more, no more, no more, no more.

I hit the road Jack and don't wanna come back no more.

NEW POST - THE CURMUDGEON'S AGONY AUNT

 

SHH ... EESH!

INTERVIEW #16

 It's been a while since  Interview #15 which we had to cut short because the ginger royal was such a tosser and we didn't want to inflict him on our readers.

✴✴ The Curmudgeons Inc.ⓒ takes the commitment to reader satisfaction seriously ✴✴

We promise to not bring you any more interviews with royals - although a Meghan Markle one would be fun as she's not really a royal. 

We are spoilt for choice at present with there being so many idiots out there in politics, communication, media, entertainment, religion, sports and lots of other people who are shooting themselves in their feet and generally making asses of themselves - I mean ... have you seen what that old geriatric President Biden's been doing in Ireland, or the orange idiot Trump in New York, or the Auckland council, or the Dali Llama (suck my tongue indeed!)? Sheesh! Anyway I thought we'd go strait to the top ... of the world geographically speaking and see what Vlad The Impaler  ... sorry, Vladimir Putin's been doing.

THE CURMUDGEON: Welcome President ... um Prime Minister  ... um Premier er Vlad ...

VLADIMIR PUTIN: ...  Let me put you in your place ... em ... I mean correct you there Mister The Curmudgeon. I have been serving continuously as president or Prime Minister since 1999: as Prime Minister from 1999 to 2000 and from 2008 to 2012, and as President from 2000 to 2008 and since 2012.

THE CURMUDGEON: "And since 2012" What? Dictator?.

VLADIMIR PUTIN: Em, I'm thinking Mister The Curmudgeon that you are taking liberties which, let me advise you, you should not do.

THE CURMUDGEON: Oh, OK, sorry Prez .... look, can we drop these titles and you can call me T.C. and I could call you Vlad. OK?

VLADIMIR PUTIN: Em ... if you wish to take that risk yes. As the degenerate Americans and Australians say ...em ..."fill your booties".

T.C.: OK 'Vlad' let's  ha ha, fill our booties. Look, as you know I live in New Zealand which is a country that's probably (and hopefully) off your radar screen and one that you haven't thought about invading sine about 1870.

VLAD: Em, yes our are correct there. In the 1870s your little country was definitely on our radar screens ...

T.C.: ... but RADAR hadn't been invented then, surely.

VLAD: No, no T.C. my name is not Shirley, it is Vladimir. We Russians of course had invented RADAR then and you were 'on our screens'  xa xa xa.  We 'put the shits up yours' most satisfactorily back then creating the famous  "Russian-scare" forts of 1885. In the 1870s your New Zealand was a young self-governing colony of Britain. It had developed no coastal defences of any consequence and was becoming increasingly sensitive to how vulnerable its harbours were to attack by a hostile power or opportunistic raider. Xa xa xa. We took advantage of that and forced your government into building forts and shooting at seagulls. This was taking the eye off exporting warm woollen clothing and meat, cheese and milk to Great Britain who had the audacity to challenge us in the Crimea ...

T.C.: .... They still do.

VLAD: Em, yes the silly Britishers think that they have sovereignty over our Motherland's oil and gas reserves in the Black Sea and they ...

T.C.: ... your oil and gas reserves in the Black Sea? Surely they belong to Ukraine ...

VLAD: ... I am telling you Mister T.C. - my name is Vladimir not this Shirley who you seem to be having a fixation on. Anyway, our women are named Svetlana, Mina, Anya, Olga and ....

T.C.: ... Yes, yes, I know - I get requests of marriage from 'your Russian women' weekly on the internet.

VLAD: Em, they are nice no?

T.C.: They are nice yes but The Old Girl say's that I'm not allowed to play with them.

VLAD: This, em, Old Girl - she is KGB no?

T.C.: No, not KGB or anything like that but, believe me Vlad, she's much scarier. Can you put a word in to those Internet scammers that you state sanction to remove me from their target list?

VLAD: Of course T.C. I deny that the Russian state has any involvement in this but I will do as you ask. I cannot guarantee that you will not be receiving marriage requests from Ukrainian women though. Em, we are not controlling that situation. Yet.

T.C.: OK ... let's move on ... this is a type of 'HARD TALK' interview Vlad - I want to put you on the spot. I've got lots of questions about The Crimea, oligarchs, journalists's deaths, disappearances, corruption,  your alleged illegal wealth, Trump, Biden, The Ukraine and ... um ... er, those Russian women are nice no?

VLAD: Our Russian women are nice yes. Let me show you some pictures ... 

Putin shows The Curmudgeon a portfolio of scantily clad, long-legged, blond and brunette Russian women.

T.C.: Christ Almighty!

VLAD: Em, yes, we can be doing some of these Russian women dressed as Jesus - or nuns - whatever is your preference.

T.C.: Jesus!

VLAD: Em, T.C. ... you were wanting to ask questions of me about the Russian state and about ...

T.C.: ... yes, yes, yes .... look Vlad ... um, The Old Girl is off to Christchurch for 3 months and ...

VLAD: .... you are wondering if I can be making introductions for you with these very wholesome and very religious Russian women no?

T.C.: No ... I mean yes ,.. umm , er, Vlad. look . sorry about this but we need to cut this interview short. You understand?

VLAD: I am understanding very well T.C. You and me can have an arrangement no? I have these with only very important people. I have one with President ... em ... temporarily non- president Trump no?

T.C.: Yes, yes, I see but I don't need those golden showers OK?

VLAD: Xa xa xa - okeydokeydokey T.C. At your age you can probably pee on your own sheets huh?

T.C.: Ha , ha, ha ... hey!

CAT ON A HOT TIN ROOF*

 * The title and very evocative line from one of the great Tennessee Williams' plays:

Brick: Lately, that finishin' school voice of yours sounds like you was runnin' upstairs to tell somebody the house is on fire.

 Maggie: Is it any wonder? You know what I feel like? I feel all the time like a cat on a hot tin roof.

Liz Taylor played the role of Maggie in the film version and she simpered and preened like a cat. Great writing, acting and cinema.

 

********************

It's been stormy all night and today is a crappy day with high winds and rain. Yesterday was warm and sunny though and I spied the neighbours cat sleeping on top of our woodshed. It was literally a cat on a hot tin roof.

SEASIDE 2

We went to Pataua today - north and south, 

We drove to Pataua South as that's closest to where we live and walked across the footbridge to Pataua North on the other side of the estuary.

Both sides have lovely beaches

Pataua South and Pataua North are quite quirky and it's like going back to New Zealand in the 1970s with tiny baches on large seafront sections that are separated by high hedges. Pataua North is becoming gentrified (as it is more easily accessed from Whangarei (Pataua South is accessed via Whangarei Heads where we live) with many of the old baches being replaced by multi-million dollar 'cottages'. 

Pataua South, being more in Maori ownership hasn't yet been developed so there are more of the smaller houses, tumbledown sheds and open spaces. Pataua South is home to strong Maori political activists and alternative life-style people and this shows in some of the signage around. During the Covid lockdowns in 2020 locals closed off the road and set up their own 'passport control'.

Have a close look at these mailboxes that are in Pataua South (you may have to enlarge them). The numbering system is erratic and may be a way of hiding in plain sight from the police, the IRD, the council or government departments in general.

BY THE SEASIDE

 

Geoff's boss called in yesterday in his boat.

Living by the water as we do it's not unusual for people we know to 'drop in' via the water.

Maybe in the future Richard or Robert might visit.

RICHARD

ROBERT

A SAD THING

The Curmudgeon's Agony Aunt yesterday referenced Richards's dotage. 

Now Robert, the other half of this popular blog's readership is showing similar problems of old age and forgetfulness.

For casual readers, Robert has been banging on about Lent - the silly Catholic religious observance that has silly Catholics giving up nice things like sex, chocolate, sleeping in and wearing fluffy slippers for a 6 week period leading up to Easter Thursday. They do this to please their imaginary god very much like pagans have done forever with sacrificing virgins, burning food offerings, painting their faces and the soles of their feet and waggling their bottoms to the sky. Anyway Robert, for reasons known only to himself has, as a Lenten sacrifice, been taking a dip in a paddling pool in his garden each day regardless of how cold it is. Kind of like this:

That's all very well but this silliness was supposed to end on Thursday last week. As of yesterday, as reported in his blog post Robert the apathetic sanctimonious sinner, toilet cleaner, threatener of eternal damnation, and music snob.  is still immersing himself. Now, given Wellington's cold autumns and winters, this is very silly behaviour (it is Catholic though) and is likely to give the old guy a cold at least.

I'll keep you posted on developments but must tell you - the prognosis isn't good.

NEW POST - THE CURMUDGEON'S AGONY AUNT

 

SPEAKING IN TONGUES

SMUGGLER'S BAY*

* Or 'Nice and Responsible Guys' Bay' if pedantic and boring old schoolteachers were allowed to name and market geographical features.

As Dargaville was a no-go today Geoff and I went to Smuggler's Bay which is on one of our local walks.

The walking track is a mixture of farmland, coastal and bush tracks that skirt the bays and goes past the WW2 gun emplacements.

I was keen to see Smuggler's Bay as I had heard that Cyclone Gabrielle had stripped away a lot of the beautiful white sand.

BEFORE

AFTER

There was very noticeable reduction of sand and rocks exposed.

The track down to the beach has been washed away and replaced with tonnes of driftwood.

Someone has made a shelter out of driftwood. It's well made.

The day started off well but a storm was on the way.

A storm worthy of King Lear began with thunder, lightning and rain began and we hurried to the car. The storm has lasted a few hours and thunder is still shaking the house as I write this.

I'm aware that this post is written in the style of Robert the 50% Guy (and other descriptors) so I might as well tell you what I'm going to cook for dinner:

Italian lemon piccante chicken with Hasselbach roasted potatoes.