I love the smell of Sulphur in the morning

09-09-06 - 10-09-06

Craig was driving up to Rotorua to pick up an engine. He took me and we made a weekend of it.



Click here for photos

We ended up at a hotel room with our own private spa pool.

Yep, I'm really glad to be home again.

The Abominable Dr. Phibes ...

Craig and I have a new neighbour!

Craig : you know the new neighbour?
Me : ... yea
Craig : He's an embalmer
Me : Hee! Cool!
Craig : I thought you'd like that.

a minute passes

Craig : You know, I think you've desensitised me to all that
Me : What?
Craig : Yea, he told me and paused like he was expecting a big reaction and I was just like oh yea and went on talking about what we'd been talking about. My car.
Me : huh.

Just doing my wifely duty.

To begin at the beginning:

It is spring, moonless night in the small town, starless and bible-black ...
Last night I saw the most amazing staging of Under Milk Wood by Dylan Thomas.
It was in at Downstage which is already one of my favourite theatres, but it felt more intimate than usual.
The stage was multi-leveled and included a rotating section of floor which gave the actors room to move and at times it seemed something closer to a dance than a play ostensibly for voices. The Night was evoked using an almost unnoticeable black screen, a smoke machine and near-silhouettes.
All of the actors were just ... mind-blowing. They have to portray so many different characters but pulled it together remarkably well. I loved that they didn't rely on solely one method of characterisation, they changed their clothes, the way they held themselves, their facial expressions and voices. Everything.
I also cannot get over Loren Horsley's hair. Love.

It's only running until the 9th September but if you can, I really recommend catching it.

You can hear the dew falling, and the hushed town breathing. Only your eyes are unclosed, to see the black and folded town fast, and slow, asleep. And you alone can hear the invisible starfall, the darkest-before-dawn minutely dewgrazed stir of the black, dab-filled sea where the Arethusa, the Curlew and the Skylark, Zanzibar, Rhiannon, the Rover, the Cormorant, and the Star of Wales tilt and ride.

Hypochondria Hour!

There is a stabbing stabbing pain in my hand, running right down my weddingring finger all the way to about an inch above my wrist.
Every so often it feels like my finger is vibrating with the pain.
Ouch.

I think it might be being exacerbated by the fact that I keep my little finger flung into the air while I type, jerking my weddingring finger down when I need to use the shift key. Creating what I kindly call my typing claw.



If I ball my left hand into a fist it goes away.

I think work really is breaking my hands.
Which totally sucks because I like my unusually small hands!
And really, I find them quite useful.



(ok seriously, in order to counteract the claw I've been trying to hit shift with my littlest finger and it's working.)
(Hi Mum! you can stop worrying now)

Pierre! no. Jean-Luc? no. Michel? no. Batman? maybe.

TONIGHT
is a very important night.

Tonight, The Great Battle that has Plagued Craig and Sarah has come to an end.

They have settled the matter of Cat vs. Dog

And it was Won by this adorable little Alien face.


French Bulldog
Bouledogue Français

Of course, this battle is completely moot at this point, as the purchase of said family pet (now decided as one (1) French Bulldog) cannot occur for at least three years.

BUT! it must be publicly recognised that Sarah and Craig have decided that a French Bulldog is manly enough for Craig and small and alien-faced enough for Sarah.
Besides, Gilby Clarke has one.


Of course uh, Sarah can't live without at least one cat ... but that's another battle.

Happy Birthday Baby-Jayne

17th August 2006
A Photo Journal



Click Here

The Grizzly Adams Project

It all started when Karma gifted me with a big old fight with my husband.

which started with "shave your beard!" "no"
which progessed to "shaaaave your Beeeaaarrrd!!!" "no, I want to see how long I can grow it"
which progressed to "if I to shave my Armpits and Legs then you should shave your face" "uhh ... no"
which progressed to "Why won't you shave your beard? it hurts me when I kiss you" "nooo-ooo"
and ended with me ignoring Craig. Which is always a bad sign.

So he shaved his beard and we of course made up and talked like sane people and reached a beard compromise. I understood that Craig really did want to see how long he could grow it, and since I do the same thing all the time (Hmm, I wonder how long I can go without Mcdonalds? (3 years so far) Hmm, I wonder how long I can go without soda? (coming up on a year)) I felt I should help him.
So! as long as he keeps the moustache part trimmed and tidy we will continue with his Grizzly Adams project. I'm going to take weekly photos to track his progress.

And so :

23rd May



30th May




6th June



Then our Tuesday nights got busy and I forgot for awhile

4th July



11th July



25th July



and still it continues ...

I. Have. Photos!!

On Saturday the 22nd July, Kat held a 1930s themed cocktail party.
It was the perfect excuse for us to show off our wonderful bartending skills, and to dress up!
For more from the night, just click on the photo above.

In Fact!
I have photos from May - July to share. Including a very few photos from our trip to Auckland.

They can be seen here ... again, just click on the photo.



And there are a few more photos in my Paintings section ...



Seriously, you just click on the photos!

Sometimes I think I'm more of a boy than my Husband

While driving home the other night I coughed and coughed and had to press my chest so I could breathe.

Craig : D'you want to stop and get something for that?
Me : No, I'll be ok-cough cough splutter cough
Craig : I think the late night pharmacy is still open
Me : No, I'll just have some more expired Duro-Tuss. Hell, it didn't kill me last night
Craig : ... just How expired?
Me : ... 2004

He's just lucky it takes too much effort to pull off a successful murder.

Craig : No, I hate you

Please note. You are coming into this in the middle of a very silly argument (about what? Who can say?) and it was very late and I had been drinking wine and we are both talking in silly voices.
That being said ...

Me : No you love me. You want me to have our babies
Craig : No, no I don't. I'll just find anothe-
Me : But then they won't be OUR babies and our babies are going to be the smartest and the prettiest ...

I apparently couldn't think of any other superlatives. I blame wine-addled priorities.

Craig : Well yea ... or they could have your looks and my brains.

ouch.