AmeriNZ Blog

Spring sprang, again

2026-09-23T23:36:39.092+12:00

By anyone’s measure, it’s Spring in New Zealand. The September Equinox arrived at 12:05pm today, so regardless of whether one observes meteorological seasons, as New Zealand and Australia do, or astronomical seasons, like the USA does, it’s indisputably Spring in this part of the world. Well, mostly: The weather forecast has been all over the place this month—sometimes really warm, sometimes cold and snowy (in fact, frost is possible overnight tonight in Kirikiriroa-Hamilton).

Weather and nomenclature/jargon notwithstanding, there have been definite signs of Spring. Up top is a photo of the tree on my street that’s been in so many of my photos. I took the photo this afternoon, after the equinox arrived, because it clearly shows the tree is finally leafing out. In fact, every year I “watch” this tree out my window, looking for this very thing because that means that Spring is pushing Winter off the stage.

So, what are our Spring and Summer expected to be like this year? Even before this year’s El Niño started to SuperSize itself, it was predicted that Kirikiriroa-Hamilton will have temperatures that are at or above normal, and rainfall will be at or below normal. It’s increasingly looking like hot and dry could well be our reality.

This raises a small conundrum for me. I was determined that this year I’d grow more vegetables than I have before (and some flowers, too). In normal dry summers we have watering restrictions, but if we have much harsher dryness this year, will there be total bans on all watering? Parts of England went through that in their summer (and they call garden hoses “hosepipes”, which confused me when I recently first heard it in the phrase “hosepipe ban”). I think that I’ll probably just proceed and hope for the best, though my stamina and energy levels may ultimately decide for me before the weather is an issue.

I’m also trying to work out how a way to hang some translucent fabric under my patio cover to reflect the hot summer sun. Failing that, I have a sun shade that I could tie to the frame with rope or whatever. Stay tuned.

Whatever this summer brings, though, I know I’ll like it—though I can’t promise I won’t still complain if the temperatures really do turn out to be hotter than normal. Or, maybe I won’t: The whole house air conditioning I had installed last year will mean I’ll be comfortable inside my house even if outside becomes too uncomfortable—and that was the exact reason I decided to add it.

Whatever happens, I’ll definitely be documenting this summer, whatever it brings. Of course.

The seventh horrible anniversary

2026-09-20T23:45:00.000+12:00

Today is the seventh anniversary of the day I lost my husband, best friend, and soulmate, Nigel. It’s been a varied journey, and sometimes a rough one, which is true for most such journeys. The past couple years have often had among the most difficult patches I’ve faced, which underscores something I’ve often pointed out: We don’t grow out of our grief, we grow with our grief and it becomes a part of us.

I recently saw a video that pretty much encapsulates what I mean. Four years ago, actor Andrew Garfield appeared on The Late Show with Stephen Colbert. Garfield was promoting what was then his new film, Tick, Tick... Boom! After a commercial break, Colbert asked Garfield about the recent death of his mother, and he said that his grief “is all the unexpressed love”, and I literally said to the screen, “Exactly!” He also said, “I hope this grief stays with me, because it’s all the unexpressed love I didn’t get to tell her—and I told her every day!” He then talked about how his art was related to that, which made perfect sense to me. [You can watch the segment on YouTube, and while the link is cued to the part I’m talking about, you can re-set it to the beginning of that particular YouTube video).

From time to time I read a quote that matches exactly the way I see grief. Garfield’s description is what I was getting at in a post from six years ago, “Love has everywhere to go”, and it’s still the way I see it. But none of that is meant to suggest that the pain stays with us, because it usually softens over time (most of the time), but the grief itself is always there.

This also has very little to do with happiness in the future. Some grieving people find it, others don’t and some, like me, aren’t trying to find it. Some nine months into my journey I wrote, “I came to realise something very important about my future: I don’t have to be happy, I just have to be content. Finding happiness is beyond my control—some people spend their entire lives looking for happiness, never finding it. But the latter? That’s something I can help along.”

I think that many seem to think that people are either happy or unhappy, but there’s a third option: Neither, and that’s where I’m at. I suppose it’s possible that happiness could be a continuum, at least for some people, but if so, I think it’s also possible to be outside of that continuum, in “contentment”.

All of which is precisely why I memorialise that day in 2019: Everything changed that day, and I did, too. This anniversary is a time I set aside to remember, and, more importantly to feel. I also check-in with myself to assess where my journey is.

Most important of all, though, is that it gives me yet another, and a very specific, chance to send out more love. As I said in last year’s post:

September 20, the day Nigel drew his final breath, is the lowest point of my personal year, and probably always will be, but there’s an important thing about that: To have been so utterly and profoundly affected and changed by this one person and his love is a treasure I can carry with me forever. There’s the saying that goes, "with great love comes great pain", and that’s absolutely true.

However, I’ve come to understand that great love is worth it, despite the possibility of great pain. Most days, it’s the great love that’s front of mind, other days, like September 20, the great pain reminds me that the great love is still there. But, through it all, it’s the love that endures.

Always.

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 22

2026-09-20T22:00:00.000+12:00

The song that hit the top of the Billboard “Hot 100” this week in 1986 was the final Number one of that month—and the first of October 1986. On September 20, 1986, “Stuck with You” (video up top) by American rock band Huey Lewis and the News became the new Number One. The song was featured in the 1986 film Top Gun, which is evident in the video. The song was the first single from the band's fourth album, Fore!.

In my opinion, this song is a typical mainstream sort of pop music song from this era, though there plenty of other styles, too, of course. At the time, I thought his songs were pleasant enough, but I wasn’t fan, and I never bought any of this records—which, of course, wasn’t even remotely unusual for me. Even so, I do have three of his songs on compilation CDs, and that includes this song, which is fine (sometimes compilations have “WTF?” songs on them, but his weren’t of that sort for me).

As is also usually the case with the songs in these “Weekend Diversion” posts from the 1980s, this was a song that I remember hearing a lot at the time, and, again, I liked the sound well enough. This is a good thing: It’s hard to have much to say in these posts about songs that I don’t remember—but, is that true for every Number One song in the rest of 1986? Hm… On the other hand, In my mind the title of this song wa “Stuck on You”, though I have no idea why—maybe because I haven’t heard it in years?

“Stuck with You” reached Number 2 in Australia, 3 in Canada (Gold), 2 in New Zealand (Platinum), 4 in the UK, and Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100” and “US Adult Contemporary” charts.

The album Fore! reached Number 3 in Australia, Number One in Canada (5x Platinum), Number One in New Zealand (Platinum), 8 in the UK (2x Platinum), as well as reaching Number One on the USA’s ”Billboard 200” chart. It was certified 3x Platinum in the USA.

This series will return in three weeks, on October 11.

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1986” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 1 – January 18, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 2 – February 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 3 – March 1, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 4 – March 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 5 – March 22, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 6 – March 29, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 7 – April 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 8 – May 3, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 9 – May 10, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 10 – May 17, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 11 – June 7, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 12 – June 14, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 13 – July 5, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 14 – July 12, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 15 – July 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 16 – July 26, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 17 – August 2, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 18 – August 16, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 19 – August 30, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 20 – September 6, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 21 – September 13, 2026

My elderly wardrobe

2026-09-17T10:37:00.000+12:00

I have an elderly wardrobe. While that’s not literally true, I definitely do have some clothes that I literally have had for decades. There are reasons for that, mostly about me, but several things over the past couple months have made me especially aware of it.

A few weeks ago, a relative complimented me on a shirt I was wearing that day, one that I seldom wear. I mentioned in passing that I bought it more than 20 years ago, and he was surprised (shocked?) at that, because he gets rid of clothes when they wear out. I do, too, of course, but I have enough stuff to wear that I often go months—or even longer—without wearing a particular item (seasonal changes have a lot to do with that). At the same time, I’ve always been a bit, er, um, obsessive about how I care for them.

I’ve always washed most clothes in cold water, which is gentler on fabrics and their dyes, and I’ve always hung up most shorts to dry. I iron shirts that need it, something I’ve been a little bit better about doing after the 2023 loss of what was pretty much my favourite shirt at the time. So, having more than enough stuff to choose from, and treating the garments carefully, is part of why I've had some items for decades. There’s a separate reason why this is necessary for me: I hate clothes shopping.

Back in late 2023, I talked about why I hate clothes shopping. That post, together with a sequel from January 2024, explain why I have so much and try to take good care of it. I should add, though, that for the past couple years I buy some new shirts in the post-Christmas sales, and that, in turn, allows me to get rid of the truly worn-out shirts, because of course shirts eventually wear out.

I was thinking about all this not long after talking with my relative, and it's when I first thought (jokingly) that much of my wardrobe is “elderly”. I think (because, of course I do…) that at least some of what I wear is what younger folks might think was appropriate for an “elderly” (from their perspective) man. That may give me pause, but I also know I can’t control what other people think. Actually, I know that most days, in most ways, but on some days (like on the shopping trips I blogged about), being thought of as an “elderly” man looking for “appropriate” (meaning, “not too young”) clothes is at the very centre of my awareness. I think this is likely to settle down over time, probably by the time I really am “elderly” and—hopefully—have reached the “I don’t give a shit” phase of life. Assuming I’m fortunate to reach those years, of course.

There was one other thing that sparked all this pondering: My decluttering efforts over the past couple weeks.

Last Sunday, I published a post that was mainly about purging things, especially magazines in the living area of my house. However, I also had one paragraph in which I talked about sorting through some of my older clothes that had been stored in the guest room wardrobe. What I didn’t say is that one of those items is close to being something anyone might be tempted to call “elderly”: A sweater vest.

My childhood friend Jason’s mother knitted the sweater vest for by me, probably when I was a sophomore or junior in high school. At the time, I had several sweater vests I routinely wore, and since she was an avid knitter, and made lots of sweaters for her family, she decided to make me a sweater vest. I remember when she was making it, and how she’d frequently hold the back up against me to make sure it would be long enough (since I’m a tall boy). In the end she made a lovely off-white cable-knit sweater vest, and I loved it—and a year or so later I stopped wearing sweater vests at all.

Even so, I’ve kept that sweater vest ever since, through dozens of moves (including to and within New Zealand), because it mattered to me because she mattered to me. The sweater still fits, however, my currently rotund mid-section protrudes too much for me to feel anything other than deeply self-conscious if I wore it in public, though I did wear it recently when I had one of the frequent video chats Jason and I have (while I was sitting down… and at home…). The thing is, that sweater is around 50 years old, and that realisation shocked me. I’ll keep that sweater, of course.

In thinking about it further, though, I realised I also have a (very) few things I brought with me from the USA, like some t-shirts, a couple sweatshirts, a jacket, that sort of thing, and most of that stuff would be around 40 years old, five or take. I also have a shirt my mother made for me, probably in the same era as the sweater vest. However, there is one more thing: My Cub Scout uniform shirt, which is by far the oldest item of clothing I still have, more than 60 years old (although, oddly enough, that doesn’t fit me anymore. Huh.). So, apparently my wardrobe really is “elderly”.

This post, while it talks about real stuff, is, of course, mostly tongue in cheek. Real though all this is, I don’t take myself or the implications of having usable clothing that I’ve had for decades all that seriously. It is what is is, and all that. The reality of my, shall we say, “long-lived” wardrobe may confuse or astound some people, but as far as I'm concerned, that’s more about them.

So, none of my wardrobe is actually “elderly”—maybe “middle aged”. Still, my toungue-still-firmly-in-cheek are I are all getting ever closer to being legitimately categorised as “elderly”, so maybe my wardrobe will achieve that designation, too. Today, though, we’re all doing fine, thank you very much, and none of us are going anywhere any time soon. As far as I know. Right now, though, I need to go iron a shirt for today. That much I’m totally serious about.

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 21

2026-09-13T23:45:00.000+12:00

On September 13, 1986, a new song reached the top of the Billboard “Hot 100”: “Take My Breath Away” (video up top) by American New Wave band Berlin became the new Number One. The song was featured in the 1986 film Top Gun, which is evident in the video. The song was released on the soundtrack album for the film, as well as Berlin’s fourth studio album, Count Three & Pray.

This is another song that I remember hearing a lot at the time, and I liked the sound well enough, though it definitely was the sound more than the substance. One of my childhood friends introduced me to Berlin several years earlier, and I liked that stuff more than than this particular song. However, I also liked a LOT of the music produced by Giorgio Moroder, who also produced this song, and that could be the reason I liked this particular song even thought it didn’t seem very Berlin-y to me.

At the risk of sounding like an—ahem—broken record, I never bought this song as a single, nor the soundtrack album, or the album by Berlin, either. In fact, the only Berlin album I bought wasBest of Berlin 1979–1988, which I bought on CD in the very early 1990s (shortly after I bought my first CD player…) and I brought it with me when I moved to New Zealand in 1995, and unusually, perhaps, I actually still have that album.

As I was saying last week, back in this era I liked a lot of New Wave (and New Wave-adjacent) songs (as well as other pop music styles, of course), so in this era there were quite a few songs that I liked, but not all of them made it to Number One—in fact most of the ones I liked the most didn’t. This is another one that did.

“Take My Breath Away” reached Number 2 in Australia, Number One in Canada (Gold), 4 in New Zealand (2x Platinum), Number One in the UK (Platinum), and Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100” as well as the CashBox “Top 100” charts. It was certified Gold in the USA.

The Top Gun soundtrack album reached Number 3 in Australia (5x Platinum), 2 in Canada (5x Platinum), 5 in New Zealand (Platinum), 4 in the UK (2x Platinum), as well as reaching Number One on the USA’s ”Billboard 200” chart. It was certified 9x Platinum in the USA.

Berlin’s Count Three & Pray album reached Number 38 in Australia, 85 in Canada, 20 in New Zealand, 32 in the UK (Silver), as well as reaching 61 on the USA’s ”Billboard 200” chart.

This series will return next week, on September 20. That song will take us into October.

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1986” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 1 – January 18, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 2 – February 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 3 – March 1, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 4 – March 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 5 – March 22, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 6 – March 29, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 7 – April 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 8 – May 3, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 9 – May 10, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 10 – May 17, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 11 – June 7, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 12 – June 14, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 13 – July 5, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 14 – July 12, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 15 – July 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 16 – July 26, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 17 – August 2, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 18 – August 16, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 19 – August 30, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 20 – September 6, 2026

The AmeriNZ Blog is 20

2026-09-13T22:53:00.000+12:00

Another day, another anniversary, this one the second in my Ole Timey “Season of Anniversaries”. Today, the AmeriNZ Blog turns 20. I published my first post, “I live in a land downunder. No, the other one…” on September 13, 2006. From the very beginning, I posted an annual average of at least once per day. However, that all ended in 2019 when Nigel died and my entire life was upended, and I’ve never returned to that annual average. This year I may end up having the lowest annual output ever—or maybe not. Ive given up making predictions about what I may or may not do in the future.

I still feel, as I said last year, that “first and second generation blogs like this one are kind of quaint and old-fashioned,” and I said that because even though people now use things like Facebook or Substack in ways that are very similar to the blogs of 20 or more years ago, it’s not the same (arguably Facebook is closest, in my opinion). I’m not (necessarily) saying that this new reality is good, bad, or neither, just that things are definitely different now. However, I definitely miss the community that blogging was 20 years ago.

Be that as it may, I nevertheless continue pretty much as I always have—apart from publishing frequency, of course. One of the biggest reasons I keep doing this, despite not meeting my own standards, is summed up in what I said in last year’s Blogoversary post:

As I’ve said many times before, I began this blog in the first place because Nigel talked me into it—and then he encouraged me to podcast, too. And that’s the other big reason I continue: It’s among the very last things I did when Nigel was alive that I’m still doing, and the fact he encouraged me to do it is probably the rest of the reason I’m still doing this.

It’s also true that I’m nowhere near finished with the work of reimagining my life, so there’s still a lot to talk about. However, I need to make space in my life for blogging and podcasting, and I think that maybe I should try scheduling work on them rather than keep hoping that I’ll suddenly feel motivated, because that’s clearly not working.

Despite all that, and the frustration and even disappointment that I sometimes feel about my current blogging and podcasting, what I said in the last line in my very first blog post is still accurate:

“So pour yourself a cuppa, relax, and let’s see where this leads.”

Progress, neverthless

2026-09-13T09:30:00.000+12:00

Four weeks ago, I finished the guest room wardobe project. That project should’ve taken me less than a week, but instead it took four weeks to complete, due to an unfortunate bad reaction to a prescription. Finishing that project meant the inevitable: Moving on to the next project—and I did.

Back in July, I talked about my plan for (finally…) finishing the inside of my house. I hadn’t even yet begun when I changed it, after I decided to start with the guest room, because it was closest to being finished. The next step in my revised plan was to focus on decluttering the living area (excluding the kitchen, which is its own project).

In the weeks since I finished the wardrobe project, my focus has been decluttering, and the photo above is related to that. Over the past few years I’d put magazines—read or not—on the shelf of a trolley I use as side table. To be fair, the pile wasn’t necessarily all that unsightly, but it was to me, and I thought it’d be a (relatively) easy win—and it actually basically was easy, much to my surprise.

The first thing I did was pull out duplicates (there were a couple…), and one-off copies of magazines (ones I bought to “try out”). I put them all in a pile and, ultimately in the recycling bin, which is emptied every other week. I realised right away that the magazines collectively weigh a LOT, and there’s a weight limit for how much can be in the bin, so that meant it would take me several weeks to get rid of all the rejects.

My next goal was to gather together all the magazines I wanted to keep, because they were all over the house, and arrange them in chronological order. Then I’d put them in the two cubes I set aside for them: Whatever fits stays, and what doesn’t would be recycled. This goes back to something I began at our house on Auckland’s North Shore (the one before our last house together).

I had a set of shelves in our guest room wardrobe (before I installed a shelving system in that one…), and I had a simple rule: “One in, one out.” Every time I put a new magazine on the shelf, the oldest would go into the recycling bin. I should probably add that, yes, I do actually look at older magazines from time to time (the magazines I was keeping are a title that I’ve been buying for more than 20 years).

Here in Hamilton, I put the magazines in two bottom cubes of the nine cube shelves in my living area, shelves that are mainly a mix of cookbooks, some decor, photos, that sort of thing. I realised that I liked the colourful spines of the magazines all lined up (as in the photo up top), and I had nothing else to go in those two cubes, so here I am (a side note: I have three cubes of cookbooks, too, and I want to purge some of them, too, but if I ever need another cube, I can just purge more magazines).

I sorted the magazines for those two cubes between August 31 and September 5, and this past Friday, September 11, a large pile of magazines were emptied from the recycling bin. The last lot is already in the bin, waiting for the next collection in two weeks. So, roughly two weeks after I began it, that project is basically done, though I expect I’ll keep refining the stash. I should add that I didn’t work on the project every day, and there was only one one day of sorting that was even remotely intense—though perhaps that was because I was trying to read the issue’s date in small type, often in white against a pastel colour. My increasingly elderly eyes were not happy.

Also, in the time since the wardrobe project ended, I went through five storage boxes that used to be in the guest room wardrobe. They’re a size that could hold a couple reams or so of office paper, but I’d put some of my random clothing items in them—two houses ago. I washed everything, tried it all on, and put some stuff aside to donate, and a few items I put with the clothes I actually wear. The boxes themselves are back on the top shelf of the guest room wardrobe—and they’re all empty. I think I’ll eventually use them in my office. Maybe.

So, another aspect of my house-wide decluttering and reorganising project is finished. I’m not even close to being finished with the inside of the house, but everything I finish brings me closer to that point. This magazine project is clearly very small, but I can see the difference doing it made, and while small, it’s progress, nevertheless. Onward.

31 years

2026-09-12T22:05:59.281+12:00

Today is the 31st anniversary of when I arrived in New Zealand as a tourist, and Nigel and I met in person for the first time. Basically, September 12, 1995 was arguably the true beginning of us becoming US—and yet, we eventually stopped mentioning this anniversary, focusing instead on November 2, the 1995 date I arrived back in New Zealand to stay.

Another reason this particular anniversary fell away is the calendar: September 12 is September 11 in the USA, and the events of that fateful date in 2001 overshadowed everything. In fact, I only started talking about it again when I began this blog, and it eventually became the kick-off for my “Season of Anniversaries” posts. Now? It’s even more poignant for me, because it was the very last anniversary Nigel and I shared was still alive: It was the very last time Nigel and I ever said "Happy Anniversary" to each other.

So, Thirty-one years ago today was the true start of the "us" that Nigel and I became, even though it was some weeks later that it became permanent. But, as I said last year, “I got to be with the love of my life for the rest of his life: How could I ever NOT remember this anniversary?”

Indeed.

Previous posts about my arrival anniversary (the first three and 2023 only mention it):

Anniversary Time (2007)
Blogoversary 2 (2008)
Anniversaries Three and Fourteen (2009)
Where it began (2010)
Anniversary of the beginning (2011)
Another anniversary (2012)
18 years ago today (2013)
19 years ago today (2014)
Twenty years ago today (2015)
21 years ago today (2016)
22 years ago today (2017)
23 years ago today (2018)
24 years ago today (2019)
25 years ago today (2020)
26 years ago today (2021)
26 years ago today (2022)
Anniversaries 17 and 28 (2023)
29 years ago today (2024)
Thirty years, Part One (2025)

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 20

2026-09-06T23:59:00.000+12:00

It’s a new month, and a new song hit Number One this week in 1986. On September 6, 1986, “Venus” (video up top) by English pop group Bananarama reached the top of the Billboard “Hot 100”. The song was a cover of the 1969 song by Dutch rock band Shocking Blue. Bananarama’s version was included on their third studio album, True Confessions.

I liked this song: It had a good beat—and a fairly high energy beat—and I thought it was fun. It was produced by the legendary trio of Stock Aitken Waterman, who were responsible for so much of the music I liked in the mid to late 1980s. Back in that era, I liked a lot of New Wave, and New Wave-adjacent music, including uptempo New Wave dance music, which, in my opinion, was the parent (grandparent?) of EDM (Electronic Dance Music). To me, “Venus” was one of several examples of that.

I was familiar with songs by Bananarama, beginning in 1984 with "Cruel Summer" and “Robert De Niro's Waiting...”. Not long after that, I heard their 1982 collaboration with Fun Boy Three, a New Wave version of a 1939 jazz song, "It Ain't What You Do (It's The Way That You Do It)". So, I wasn’t surprised when “Venus” went to Number One, and I was probably predisposed to like it.

Bananarama’s cover of "Venus" reached Number One in Australia, Canada (Platinum), New Zealand, Number 8 in the UK (Silver), and Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100”, “US Dance Club Songs”, and “US Dance Singles” charts, and it also reached Number 3 on the Cash Box “Top 100 Singles” chart.

The album True Confessions reached Number 19 in Australia, 10 in Canada (Platinum), 33 in New Zealand, 46 in the UK, as well as Number 15 on the USA’s ”Billboard 200” chart (Gold).

This series will return next week, on September 13 with the next Number One of September 1986.

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1986” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 1 – January 18, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 2 – February 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 3 – March 1, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 4 – March 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 5 – March 22, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 6 – March 29, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 7 – April 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 8 – May 3, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 9 – May 10, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 10 – May 17, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 11 – June 7, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 12 – June 14, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 13 – July 5, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 14 – July 12, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 15 – July 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 16 – July 26, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 17 – August 2, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 18 – August 16, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 19 – August 30, 2026

An August side quest

2026-08-31T20:32:00.000+12:00

I always have a lot of projects on the go, some big and/or important, and a lot that aren’t—actually, most of them probably aren’t even remotely important. However, some of them end up being useful, making my life easier. This is one of that kind.

For a long time now, I’ve been using liquid hand soap (among other products) from a New Zealand company called Ecostore which makes soaps, cleaners, etc., made using plant and mineral-based ingredients, instead of chemicals derived from petroleum (back in July 2-18, I talked about why I started using the company’s products). Over time, the company changed their packaging, moving from small bottles for use at sinks/basins to a larger size. This mattered to me because the larger size didn’t need to be refilled as often—but they still need to be refilled, of course.

The photo above shows the current pump bottle in the middle, and the refill bottle on the left. The small bottle holds 300ml, and the refill holds 800ml, and so, refills the pump bottle two and two-thirds times, which frankly is a bit odd (I wonder if users tend to under-fill the pump bottle and get three refills?). At any rate, since I use the pump bottle in the en suite to most of all, I need to refill that bottle the most frequently. The bottle on the right side was my solution.

I refill the hand soap bottle at the kitchen sink (in case I spill… and because I use the refill method I talked about back in October 2021)), and then I wash out the empty refill bottle before putting it in the recycling bin. I recently had a pump mechanism from an old bottle laying in the kitchen bench, and I thought, “Hm, that looks like it would fit in the refill bottle.” Since I had an empty refill bottle, I tried it and it worked (I didn’t try the original pump bottle’s pump mechanism because the plastic tube that sucks up the soap would be way too short).

The next time I needed to refill the bottle in my ensuite, I tried putting a large pump mechanism into the refill bottle, and it worked perfectly! I should emphasise that IT worked, however, I grabbed the wrong pump mechanism and use one that had been in a bottle of Leo’s dog shampoo, and I I hadn’t cleaned it after I took it out of the bottle. This meant that for several uses, the soap was lavender-scented dog shampoo, then an odd mix of lavender and citrusy secnt of the actual handsoap. Oops. It didn’t take long to come right.

I’ve had a couple weeks using it now, and I would’ve probably needed to refill a regular-size bottle by now, and it turns out that I really do appreciate a (very) small improvement in the amount of time that my routine household rituals take up. I thought it would work, and I’m glad it did—but I probably wouldn’t have mentioned it if it hadn’t worked. Possibly.

This was obviously a very small, largely insignificant project, but it’s still nice to see it work out the way I thought it it would. I think the actual larger lesson I take away from this is that if I can find ways to improve even common things, why not try it? They won’t always work, but there’s only one way to find out, and I’m glad I did.

And, it also turns out that I’m still a helpful blogger. Nice.

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 19

2026-08-30T23:46:17.981+12:00

40 years ago today, a song reached Number One on the Billboard “Hot 100”, the final one for August. On August 30, 1986, “Higher Love” (video up top) by English singer Steve Winwood hit Number One, the first of Winwood’s songs to do so. The song was the first single from his fourth studio album, Back in the High Life.

I remember the song begin on the radio back in the day, and I liked it well enough, though I wasn’t a fan of Winwood. I never bought any of his singles or albums back in the day, though years later Nigel and I bought a compilation that included his 1980 Number 2 hit, “While You See a Chance”. I was also familiar with Winwood’s work with the 1960s band, The Spencer Davis Group, but arguably the main reason I knew about them was because Olivia Newton-John included a cover of SDG's “Gimme Some Lovin” on her 1978 album, Totally Hot, and because two years later, it was included in the soundtrack for the movie The Blues Brothers. And that’s pretty much the entire extent of my connection to Steve Winwood.

“Higher Love” reached Number 8 in Australia, Number One in Canada, 11 in New Zealand (2x Platinum), 13 in the UK (Platinum), and Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100” and “US Mainstream Rock” charts. It wasn’t certified in the USA.

The album Back in the High Life reached Number 11 in Australia, 6 in Canada, 19 in New Zealand (Gold), 8 in the UK (Gold), as well as reaching Number 3 on the USA’s ”Billboard 200” chart. It was certified 3x Platinum in the USA.

This series will return next week, on September 6. Also, how is it September already?!

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1986” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 1 – January 18, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 2 – February 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 3 – March 1, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 4 – March 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 5 – March 22, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 6 – March 29, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 7 – April 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 8 – May 3, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 9 – May 10, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 10 – May 17, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 11 – June 7, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 12 – June 14, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 13 – July 5, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 14 – July 12, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 15 – July 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 16 – July 26, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 17 – August 2, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 18 – August 16, 2026

Nigel would’ve been 62

2026-08-27T22:59:05.324+12:00

Today my Nigel would’ve turned 62, and, just like last year’s, that would basically be “a shoulder-shrug birthday”. For me, however, the notable thing is that this is the seventh birthday Nigel never got to experience, and I use the word “experience” deliberately, because he hated being the centre of attention—and I loved to try to make a fuss of his birthday at least a little bit as much as he made a fuss of mine (sometimes I even succeeded)..

So, here we are, another birthday missed by the most important person in my adult life, and once again I’m reflective about—well everything, and this year in particular. Last week was the tenth anniversary of when I got my cardiac stent. The thing I haven’t really said often enough about that whole time is how utterly terrified I was. I was worried about how snaking a probe up through the vein in my arm and into my heart was something that might end up killing me, but that wasn’t what I was actually focused on. When they said I was going in for the procedure much earlier than I expected, I was even more terrified, not of the procedure, but that I might die without Nigel even getting the chance to say goodbye (because he couldn't get to the hospital before I went in). The only thing—literally the only thing—I kept focusing on was how much I wanted to get through the procedure so I could see Nigel again. Fortunately for us both, everything went well, and even though we only got some three more years together, we got three more years together than we otherwise might have had.

In last year’s post, I wrote, “I’ve been thinking lately how time feels to me like it’s moving far more slowly than it really is,” and that’s still true. I don’t really have any feeling for how long it’s all been, but I’m always keenly aware of Nigel, who he was, his character, his intellect, his humour, and, of course, how very much he both meant to me and also influenced me. Every single day I remember things he did, said, joked about, and, especially, the way he made me feel. All of that is because of who he was, and I was just the luckiest bastard on the face of the earth that I got to share life with him, far too short though that time was.

As it happens, I visit Nigel’s mum, my mother-in-law, on Thursdays, and I joked with her at one point, “It’s really convenient that Nigel’s birthday this year coincided with my visit day,” and she laughed and said, “Isn’t it!” It’s always nice to spend those Thursday visits with her, but I’m particularly glad that I was there with her on Nigel’s birthday, and I think it made the day a little bit easier for her. This evening, again just like last year, I made Nigel’s signature dish for my dinner, a meal I talked about back in July of last year, and just like last year, it was a good batch. That, too, made me happy.

As always, I’d much rather be celebrating Nigel’s birthday with him (obviously…), and “living whatever our life would have become”, as I put it last year. But the main thing is that he’s still a real presence in my life, and always will be.

Happy Birthday, sweetheart. Always.

Previously:

Nigel would’ve been 61 (2025)
Nigel would’ve been 60 (2024)
Nigel would’ve been 59 (2023)
Nigel would’ve been 58 (2022)
Nigel would’ve been 57 (2021)
Surviving the day and being okay (A 2021 post on how I handled his birthday)
We celebrated Nigel’s birthday (About the party in 2020)
It won’t be a good day (2020 – the first birthday after he died)

Special Note: I didn’t talk about Nigel’s birthday on this blog while he was alive because I wanted to protect him, and so, I didn’t share stuff that was personal to him. I talk about it now because I have no way of knowing who may run across my posts, and maybe they'll help someone else in a situation similar to mine. Besides, I love talking about my Most Important Person.

A reminder of reality

2026-08-21T23:17:29.093+12:00

Today was an interesting day. A guy came round to change the filters in the HRV home ventilation system, something they do every two years. It was, as usual, uneventful, but it also ended up being a reminder of how old I am. It happens.

The guy who came today was different from the one who changed the filters the first two times, and it turned out that the operations in the Waikato were bought by a new company. Makes no difference to me obviously, and yet…

After he changed the filters, he checked the airflow from each of the five vents (they were all good, of course), then he sat down to fill out the paperwork, and said, “I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but do I hear an American accent?” He didn’t offer why he thought it might be rude, though legend has it that Canadians get tired of being assumed to be from their southern neighbour, which is ironic because these days it’d probably be best if people thought I came from north of that same border.

I said to him, “yes, that's where i came from originally.” He asked whereabouts, and I said, “Chicago”, which is literally the place I moved to New Zealand from, however, that reminded me that whenever my parents took me on holiday—whoops: “vacation”—and someone asked where we were from, she always answered, “near Chicago” (it was really about an hour’s drive from where we lived, but she knew no one in another state or country would know of the town we actually lived in).

The guy then reasonably asked, “how long have you been here?” I said, “30 years,” and he said, “Oh!” and paused no more than a split second before adding, “As long as I’ve been born.” I probably smiled a wry smile, knowing that I’ve actually been living here for closer to 31 years than 30.

That wasn’t the first time my age has been driven home for me, and it’s usually been inadvertent, except when it wasn’t. When I turned 60, Nigel had great fun saying to me, “Fuck you’re old!” Well, that and “I can’t believe I’m going to be married to a SIXTY year old!” I was so looking forward to being able to return the favour when he turned 60, but I never got the chance: He was 55 when he died.

The real truth is, I don’t actually care about how old I am, though sometimes I like to pretend I’m offended when someone mentions my age. Mainly, I’m on team “getting older beats the alternative”. However, I also know that the disconnect between my actual age and how old my brain thinks I am is widening, and I’ve read that’s quite common for people as they age. It certainly is for me, anyway.

I’m not sensitive about my age—it is what it is—but I’m definitely aware of it and of possible future issues. That’s why I started walking every day (except for sick days) for more than a year and a half, and why I started researching more things I can do that may help keep me in reasonably good condition as I get ever-closer to a true “elderly” age.

At the same time, I’m also keenly aware that getting older is a gift not everyone receives, and that’s particularly true this month: Next week is Nigel’s birthday, the seventh he never got to experience, just like the seven of my own birthdays he also never got to experience—or tease me about.

These are things I’m always aware of to some extent or other, but it’s usually front of mind only when something raises it up in front of my face and says, “Hey! You’re old!”. Today a guy innocently reminded me that I’ve lived in New Zealand longer than he’s been alive, and, of course, I also had an even longer life in my native land before that. There are plenty of other everyday things that can remind me, too, of course, but overall, I’d rather be reminded of my age than not be here to be reminded.

One thing is certain: There will be more reminders for as long as I live. And I’m fine with that.

I wrote a detailed post about the HRV system when it was installed in 2020.

The very consequential week

2026-08-19T23:30:17.895+12:00

Ten years ago this week as very consequential for me. This week in 2016, I unexpectedly recived a stent in a 90% blocked coronary artery, and because of that, I’m still here to talk about it.

The story began on Monday, August 15, 2016 I went to my doctor because I thought my medication was making me feel bad. Nigel coached me on what to say, how best to stand up for myself. Neither of us expected that I’d be sent to the hospital in the back of an ambulance, let alone that they’d admit me so they could give a treadmill stress test the next day. That test was stopped after only a few minutes due to the readings. I was scheduled for an angiogram for the next day, Wednesday, andwhen they discovered the blocakage in my coronary artery, they inserted a stent. I went home the next day, Thursday, August 18, 2016, and on Friday, back at home, I mostly just rested and relaxed.

I talked about this story in great detail a few days after I got home, and in that post I said:

All of this came about because my doctor listened to me and investigated my complaints, but the reason I complained was because Nigel both nagged me and coached me. Without his support, I may not have pursued this, and there’s no way of knowing whether I’d have had another chance.

As I've said many times and in many ways, Nigel was my rock, my trusted advisor, my advocate, my coach, and the one person I could always count on—including taking me for treatment when my heart started acting up, like the two times I ended up in hospital. I spent the three years after getting the stent dealing with tachycardia, then atrial fibrillation, and also trouble with several prescriptions, and Nigel was there every step of the way.

The last time I was admitted to hospital (so far…) was around four months before Nigel died. In fact, when he was first admitted to hospital in September 2019, we joked about how it was his turn and the Middlemore “spa” (the hospital name is Middlemore). Ten days later, he was gone.

Around a month after Nigel died, I had a follow-up appointment with the cardiology team, who recommended me for cryoablation treatment to try to fix my afib. That appointment was the first medical thing I’d done after Nigel died—and suddenly realised I had to figure out who to name as my emergency contact, after a quarter century of Nigel being that person for me, and me for him. It was an incredibly difficult moment for me, but I managed to not cry in the waiting room.

Three months after that cardiology appointment, I shifted to Kirikiriroa-Hamilton. A couple months after that, we had the first Covid lockdown. In December 2020, I finally got my cryoablation procedure at Waikato Hospital (a day treatment), after months of delays caused by the insurance company I had at the time taking many months to finally decide to decline the claim, then there was Covid, and the fact I needed to see (and pay for) a private appointment with a cardiologist here in Hamilton to get onto the waiting list for the procedure.

When the day finally arrived, my brother-in-law drove me to the hospital, a my sister-in-law Barbara picked me up afterward (both because I wasn’t allowed to drive due to receiving a light anesthesia). Also, my sister-in-law Carolyn stayed at my house that night (in order for the hospital to let me go home, they required that I have someone stay at my place overnight—just in case, I guess). The procedure seems to have been a success, since I haven’t had any afib incidents since. But the we also lost Carolyn to cancer in February last year.

My story underscores several things. First, paying attention to one’s body is extremely important—obviously. It’s also important to have people on your “team”, and, as so many of my stories have underscored, when I married Nigel, it meant becoming part of a large family, and I know that if I need help again in the future, they’ll be there. However, I have to be honest: It’s not even remotely the same as having Nigel with me, in sickness and in health—though that particular phrase wasn’t actually part of our civil union or marriage vows.

I’ve had other health challenges since Nigel died, some scary (like the cryoablation procedure), others merely annoying, and most were just kind of meh. The family was, of course, there when I needed them to be, and I’ve been deeply grateful each time. I know, though, that if Nigel had been with me over the past nearly seven years, my journey would have been so much easier. Even so, there’s one thing more: I also know that Nigel would be proud of me for having successfully navigated the challenges of my health journey, things he never lived to see, and especially that I’ve been working hard on trying to prepare myself as well as I can for my elderly years. He’d also be sad that sometimes my journey’s been really difficult for me, but mainly he’d be happy that I chose to thrive well into the future (if the fates allow…).

In so many ways, this week a decade ago was a turning point, though some of what my journey was to become was utterly unimaginable for me back then. Even so, I’m still here, and still pushing forward. Sure, Nigel would be proud of me for that, but maybe more importantly, I’m proud of myself. That really is just like ten years ago.

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 18

2026-08-16T23:45:26.308+12:00

Sorry, one week off and I nearly forgot that 40 years ago today there was another song that reached Number One on the Billboard “Hot 100”. On August 16, 1986, “Papa Don't Preach” (video up top) by American singer Madonna hit the top of the charts. The song, which would be Number One for two weeks, was the second single from her third studio album, True Blue (the first single was “Live To Tell”, which was the subject of Part 11 of this series back in June).

I liked this song well enough at the time, but if I’m truly honest, that was at least in part because of the reactions of two different groups of people (I could be contrarian that way). The Wikipedia article linkd about describes it well:

The song sparked controversy upon release for its subject matter, drawing criticism from women's and family planning organizations, who accused Madonna of glamorizing teenage pregnancy. Conversely, pro-life groups praised it for seemingly endorsing motherhood over abortion.

I distinctly remember rolling my eyes at back then, snarling something like, “It’s just a fucking song, for fuck’s sake”. I had no more patience then for what I thought was over-reacation than I do now. Some things don’t change. Mind you, my snarl was only in my mind because I hardly ever swore back then—okay, some things DO change. Apparently.

I also well remember the music video, and part of the reason for that was the actor who played Madonna’s boyfriend, actor Alex McArthur, who I thought was quite pretty (he’s just under two years older than me). However, I also recognised Alexander from promotional materials from the 1985 lesbian film, Desert Hearts—even though I can’t remember actually seeing the film. None of that has anything to do with the song, really, but it was a thing back then. Watching the video now, I was struck by the times that the Twin Towers appeared in the background of the shots filmed in Staten Island. I doubt I paid any attention to that back in the day, but now it was the first thing that stuck out for me. Time can change some things.

“Papa Don't Preach” reached Number One in Australia and Canada, Number 3 in New Zealand (Gold), Number One in the UK (Gold), and Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100” and “US Dance Singles” charts, as well as Number One on the Cash Box “Top 100” chart and the Radio & Records “CHR & Pop” charts. It was certified Platinum in the USA.

The album True Blue reached Number One in Australia (4x Platinum), Canada (Diamond), New Zealand (5x Platinum), and the UK (7x Platinum), as well as reaching Number One on the USA’s ”Billboard 200” chart and on the Cash Box “Top 100 Albums” chart. It was certified 7x Platinum in the USA.

This series will return in two weeks, on August 30, with the final Number One for August. How will September go?

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1986” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 1 – January 18, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 2 – February 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 3 – March 1, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 4 – March 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 5 – March 22, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 6 – March 29, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 7 – April 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 8 – May 3, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 9 – May 10, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 10 – May 17, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 11 – June 7, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 12 – June 14, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 13 – July 5, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 14 – July 12, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 15 – July 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 16 – July 26, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 17 – August 2, 2026

A project finally ends

2026-08-14T20:55:00.000+12:00

Today I finished a project to install a wardrobe shelving system in my guest room wardrobe (this is the project I mentioned a couple weeks ago). The short video above shows the project.

This sort of project would normally take me two or three days, but this one took four weeks. Part of the reason for the extra time was that I had to make a LOT of repairs to the walls because the supports for the former single shelf were glued and nailed to the walls, and when I removed the supports, it tore chunks out of the wallboard.

However, the main reason it took so bloody long was that I started the project during the time I was taking that ill-fated prescription I talked about a couple weeks ago, and it’s taken time for me to feel like my usual self. Today I was determined to finish the project—forcing myself, if necessary—and I succeeded. My guest room is again neat, tidy, and ready for guests—FINALLY! This evening I turned on the bedside lamps so I could see the room as it should be every time I walked past the room. Kind of my reward, I suppose.

The video was made automatically for me by the Photos App on my iPad, including adding the backing music. I’d placed all the progress photos and videos I took over the weeks I worked on the project into an album I created, and then the App put all of them into the video, in order (though I rearranged a few photos because I’d added them to the album out of order). And, of course, the photos and videos are all mine.

The stuff of life

2026-08-10T23:53:00.000+12:00

Many years ago (up to 15, I think), I switched us to the soy and linseed variety of a supermarket bread called Bürgen. It was for specific health reasons, and that decision meant that bread was a part of the life Nigel and I shared. Today it was announced that the Australian owners of the Bürgen brand are withdrawing it from New Zealand. That baked up some memories.

I suggested to Nigel that we switch to the bread because its soy and linseed were good for heart health, and especially because at the time it was the only low GI bread sold in supermarkets (this was well before my cardiac stent). Nigel and I ended up having some nearly every morning after that—in fact, it was part of Nigel’s weekday breakfasts for the last several years of his life (usually prepared by me): Peanut butter and jam on toast, and put on a plastic plate so he could bring it in the car on his commute to the office, and he’d use an old tea towel as a bib so he wouldn’t drop any on his work shirt. Because he’d often forget to bring them back into the house when he came home, he’d sometimes bring in a stack of plates and tea towels for me to deal with—and several times I had to go out to his car to collect them myself because we were starting to run out of the supplies (I mentioned all this in a a 2023 post (forst iterm).

After Nigel died I moved to Kirikiriroa-Hamilton and noticed that particular variety of bread was getting harder and harder to find, especially at my local Woolworths, where it was often out of stock (I could get it for more often by home delivery from Woolies, or from the nearest New World). So, I started using my breadmaker sometimes, and then started experimenting with other supermarket brands, including others with soy and linseed. That led to a bit of a revelation.

I was surprised at how much more fibre per 100 grams other brands had than the Bürgen loaf we’d always bought. In fact, I thought about blogging about that, since I’d talked about the bread and it also relates to my continuing health journey. If I’d done that post, I would’ve mentioned that the Bürgen Soy and Linseed bread has 4.4 grams of fibre per 100 grams of bread, along with 347g of sodium per 100g, and total cabs of 27.6g per 100 grams. This compares to the bread I usually buy these days, a “lower carb” loaf: Fibre is 8.9g per 100g, sodium is 355g per 100g, and total carbs is 24.8g per 100g. Well, at least the fibre of the current bread is a lot higher. But, there’s more!

As it happens, I’ve been learning a lot lately about healthier eating, and I learned that if you freeze bread, the carbs are turned into what’s called “resistant starch”, which is important because the body can’t break it down as quickly as normal starch, and that means the body treats it more like dietary fiber, which reduces the bread's glycemic index (GI), reducing blood sugar spikes (and lower GI bread was one of the reasons we switched to the Bürgen all those years ago). Bonus fact: refrigerating cooked pasta or white rice overnight does the same thing for them, and that doesn’t change when you re-heat it the next day. I definitely plan on starting to keep my bread in the freezer, but I need to clear space—and I only learned about these “resistant starch” tricks in the past week, so I’m cutting myself some slack on this.

in the past couplpe years, and probably partly because it was often difficult to get the Bürgen bread here in Hamilton, I gradually became less enthused about the bread we’d had for all those years, so I doubt I’ll miss it. However, the Bürgen slice size was smaller than most supermarket breads, and that I will miss.

Seeing the announcement this morning made me think of two things. First, how even something as small (literally) as a loaf of supermarket bread can be a constant in our lives. The other thing was that I really ought to resume trying to find a breadmaker recipe that I actually like (the results have been mostly “meh” for me for several years, which is why I hardly ever make bread any more). I know I probably won’t do that, though—there are far too many other things demanding my time, attention, and my sometimes limited energy. Besides, there are plenty of options available already made for me.

Yes, all that. But what I wouldn’t give to still be making peanut butter and jam on toast for Nigel. Of course.

A good day’s adventure

2026-08-08T22:46:00.000+12:00

I had a good day today. The big event for today was that I was meeting-up with some of the family for lunch at the casino in central Kirikiriroa-Hamilton. First things first: Getting there was a challenge for me. Several challenges, actually.

The big challenge for me today was the fact that I’ve never driven myself to the casino before, and I usually get pretty anxious about driving somewhere I’ve never been. In this case, it was especially true because I’m not familiar with the streets in Central Hamilton. Nigel always drove us to places like that, and he never seemed to have the same issues that I do now. It's just yet another thing I need to work out on my own. Nevertheless, when faced with tasks that make me uncomfortable or anxious, I try to force myself to do things (like today’s trip), despite the unease I feel, because I refuse to let fear, great or small, stop me from doing things I want to do (except when I do let it do that, of course—it’s a journey…). Nigel was often impressed (surprised?) when I'd "feel the fear and do it anyway". Maybe because it wasn't often enough?

As it happens, I only made two wrong turns, both of which were my fault, and not the GPS’ (because I’m not familiar with the layout of the streets, I twice turned a street earlier than the GPS commanded, but I guess that at least I became slightly more familiar with some of the streets in the area?). When I turned onto the street that I knew led to the casino carpark, Apple Maps kept growling at me with what seemed like increasing annoyance (though reason tells me it was probably just increasing frequency…), over and over again demanding that I “return to the route”. Instead, I ordered Siri to “cancel navigation”, and silence again reigned supreme.

Today was the birthday of one of my sisters in law, which was the reason for our gathering. I thought the food was nice (I had the fish and chips, for the record, and the fish of the day was snapper). One odd thing, though, was that if a customer doesn’t finish their meal (And, again for the record, I absolutely finished my meal), they can’t take the leftovers home. It supposedly has something to do with food safety, but I’ve never heard of a NZ cafe doing that.

In general, casinos aren’t a draw for me, mainly because I’m not the least bit interested in gambling (unless you count me buying NZ Lotto tickets, where the profits are returned to the community, not shareholders). The Hamilton casino is much smaller than Auckland’s, of course, but it has a strong advantage for Hamilton in that it’s pretty central in the CBD (aka “downtown” in Americanese). But both the Auckland and Hamilton casinos are mainly about gambling, and so, they aren’t places I’d go to except for occasions like today’s.

All joking aside, I had a good day today, and I got myself to my destination and back home again. Actually, I already knew how to get home from the casino, and that means that next time I’ll also know how to get to the casino, too. So, it turns out that today’s mission wasn’t just a travel adventure, it was also a genuine learning opportunity.

Today was a good day. But I still didn’t gamble—well, apart from the drive to the casino, maybe.

Framing my egg choices

2026-08-06T11:40:00.000+12:00

It’s not unusual for me to revist ttopics I talked about in previous posts, and it’s usually because something’s changed or I have new information. This post is about both. I actually had two cooking-related posts planned for last month, but only one made it onto the blog, and that one was without the relevant photos. I worked on the other one at the end of last month, and it was meant to be about revisiting my past—until I discovered something that meant I needed to start over, and that’s where this story truly begins.

In two different posts I talked about a breakfast meal Nigel called “Toasty Eggs”, which is basically a fried egg cooked inside a piece of bread with a round hole cut in the middle. It’s unhealthy, but also really nice, and I’m sure part of that is just because of the nostalgia. Both of the posts I mentioned the meal in were about memory.

In the first of the two posts, from October 2023, I talked about it in connection with my memories of Nigel and also from my childhood, and I talked about two things that struck me when I looked at the post last month. In that post, I mentioned how challenging I found making it because:

The hole in the bread had to be big enough to contain the egg, but not big enough to compromise the structural integrity of the bread frame—it was delicate work. Then, I had to flip it at exactly the right moment to cook the white on the other side without breaking the yolk, and then cooking it just long enough to cook the white without overcooking the yolk.

The second thing I noticed was that I mentioned the children’s cookbook we had in the house when I was growing up, which I later found online as a facsimile edition, something I talked about back in January, and I even referred to my 2023 post and how the cookbook had confirmed my memory of the book calling the dish “eggs in a frame”. However, neither in January nor since did I ever actually read the recipe—until I was getting ready for the July post that didn’t happen, and it was all because I wanted a photo of the recipe page.

When I actually read the recipe (at right), I saw that it said to cook the bread one side and flip it over before putting the egg into the hole. When I made it in late July, I thought about doing exactly that because I thought it might make the bread stronger before I added the raw egg. When I saw that the recipe said to cook the bread on one side first, I also realised that it would make it unnecessary to flip the bread.

When I make ordinary fried eggs (or poached eggs, for that matter), I break the raw eggs into a ramekin first, both in case the yolk breaks and I need to switch to scrambled eggs, and to make it easier to pour the egg into the pan. For fried eggs, I then add a teaspoon or so of water to the frypan and put a lit over it. The point is to let the steam cook the top of the egg while the hot pan cooks the underside (I saw some TV chef advise that). The lid I use is see-through, and I can watch until the yolk and white is properly set, and over time I’ve worked out by watching it when I can turn off the heat and let the residual heat finish the last few seconds.

I did basically the same thing with the “eggs in a frame” in the photo up top, and it was far easier than it was at any other time in New Zealand: The bread was, indeed, stronger after frying one side first, and the final result was more like a fried egg in a frame, which was the intent. The thing is, though, I know that when I was a little kid I followed recipes precisely, and that means I probably cooked the bread on one side first (and that I probably used butter to fry it in…). And I simply forgot that detail in the decades between when I made it in the USA and when I started making it again in New Zealand. If Nigel minded my mucked-up method, he never said anything—but I know he’d prefer it done the “proper” way.

When I was researching the post in July and read that 2023 blog post, I realised something else: I spelled it “Toasty Egg” because in my mind it was toast-and-egg. While Nigel never wrote down the name (and never had any reason to, of course), I think he’d probably have spelled it “Toastie Egg” because a toasted sandwich (sometimes called “grilled” in the USA, though there are differences) is often called a “toastie” in New Zealand, as in “a cheese toastie” instead of the USA’s “grilled cheese”. In my mind, Nigel used a common NZ term for something with fried bread to name this meal, while I made the name from the two elements in it, not directly connected to any other dish. Nigel would sometimes tease me, joking that, “you Americans are a simple people,” and this is exactly the sort of thing he’d tease me about—and I now know that he wasn’t wrong (to paraphrase a common Kiwi saying).

Back in July, this post was going to be about me making a meal I made as a kid, then again decades later for Nigel, and more recently for myself. I wanted to add the specific cookbook reference I mentioned in 2023, and that led me to a whole bunch of realisations, all of which I may never have connected together if it wasn’t for this blog. And that right there is why I still blog.

Eggs, cooked whatever way, are optional.

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 17

2026-08-02T23:51:00.000+12:00

It’s a new month, and time for the song that reached Number One on the Billboard “Hot 100” on August 2, 1986: “Glory of Love” (video up top) by American musician Peter Cetera. It was Cetera’s first song after he left American “rock band with horns” Chicago, and it would be Number One for two weeks—the first song that wasn’t a one-week hit since the end of June. The song was the lead single from Cetera’s second solo studio album, Solitude/Solitaire. The was also on the soundtrack album for the film The Karate Kid Part II.

I liked this song well enough at the time, though the music video did nothing for me, in part because it included a lot (in my opinion) of scenes from The Karate Kid Part II, a movie I never saw, nor wanted to (or any other version, for that matter). I had nothing against the movie—it just wasn’t my sort of film. By the time this song came out, I’d been very familiar with Cetera for many years because of his work with Chicago. In fact, one of the first albums I ever bought was the band’s 1972 album, Chicago V. After that, Cetera continued to be part of Chicago up until Chicago 17, the final album he recorded with the band, a recod that is still the band’s best-selling album.

Having said all that, and even though I heard Chicago’s various singles on the radio (I’m an Illinois native who lived in the City of Chicago for a dozen years, after all…), I was probably more aware of Cetera as a solo artist, beginning with this week’s song. Unlike with Phil Collins, I never confused Cetera’s solo work with his work with Chicago, and while I don’t know for sure why that is, it’s probably because his Solitude/Solitaire album was released a bit more than two years after Chicago 17 was released. That’s unlike Phil Collins who had solo albums out contemporaneously with Genesis albums.

“Glory of Love” reached Number 9 in Australia, Number One in Canada, 25 in New Zealand, 3 in the UK (Silver), and Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100” and “US Adult Contemporary” charts. I didn’t receive a certification in the USA.

The album Solitude/Solitaire reached Number 75 in Australia, 20 in Canada, 56 in the UK, and Number 23 on the USA’s ”Billboard 200”. The album was certified Platinum in the USA.

The The Karate Kid Part II soundtrack album reached Number 96 in Australia, 86 in Canada, and 30 on the USA’s ”Billboard 200”. The album didn’t chart in New Zealand or the UK, and wasn’t certified in any of the five countries I include in these posts.

This series will return in two weeks, on August 16, and it’s another two-week Number One. August will definitely be less work for me.

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1986” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 1 – January 18, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 2 – February 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 3 – March 1, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 4 – March 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 5 – March 22, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 6 – March 29, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 7 – April 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 8 – May 3, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 9 – May 10, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 10 – May 17, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 11 – June 7, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 12 – June 14, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 13 – July 5, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 14 – July 12, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 15 – July 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 16 – July 26, 2026

A good change of months

2026-08-01T23:17:34.906+12:00

Today is the first day of August, and that’s a good thing. First of all, this is the last month of winter, my least-favourite season of the year. Better still, July is over, and I’m not sorry to see the back of it: I had a terrible month, caused by my old “friend”, side effects from a new prescription. That’s not a new story, of course, but there’s something else: I took action, and that’s why the month ended better than it otherwise would’ve.

The story begins in early June when I saw my doctor after my most recent routine annual blood tests. The results were fine, however, my doctor wanted me to begin a drug called Ezetimibe to further lower my LDL cholesterol (this is in addition to Atorvastatin, the statin that I’ve been on for several years). My test results hadn’t changed, and my LDL level was still at what had always been an acceptable level, BUT, the official medical recommendation had changed to reduce the acceptable level for someone with my history by a few tenths of a point, and that, in turn, meant my LDL levels were suddenly “too high”—even though those levels were still in the same range as they have been for a very long time.

I was sceptical about whether the drug was needed, mainly because I thought the drop in the new guidelines was probably an overreaction. Even so, I told my GP I’d go along with it, adding that even though I admit statins are wonder drugs, though I don’t like them, either (for many reasons), though I nevertheless take one. He reiterated that the new drug wasn’t a statin, and added it’s generally well-tolerated. Yeah, well, I have a history of not “well-tolerating” drugs others have no problem with. This turned out to be one of those times.

I began taking the drug on July 1. Within days, fatigue (a common side effect) became nearly debilitating, to the point that I couldn’t do any task that took longer than 10 minutes without sitting down to rest (while several of my medications also can cause fatigue, the new fatigue was noticeably worse). A few days later, I started feeling sleepy in the early afternoon, and one day I dozed off in my chair, something that never happened to me before that.

Two weeks ago, I began a DIY project, one that I’ve done MANY times before, so I knew it should take 2—maybe 3—days. Eleven days after I started, it still wasn’t done. My back lawn needed to be mowed (it was around half a week overdue, though partly because of weather), but that takes around 20 minutes and is physical, obviously. I couldn’t face even trying to do it.

As this continued, it became increasingly obvious to me that it was the medication causing all that. And yet: I nevertheless spent (too much) time blaming myself, that I was just being lazy, that I should just suck it up and get on with it, or even that maybe I’m too old to do this sort of project anymore (even though it’s similar to ones I did in this house twice before). Beginning a week ago, I started getting somewhat lightheaded, then I started getting low-grade headaches, too. All are also possible reactions.

Despite the growing list of problems, and how miserable I was, I didn’t act immediately. I’m generally conflict-averse, and, like a lot of folks in my age group, I tend to not want to disagree with my doctor. At the same time, however, I always read up on medications I’m prescribed using reputable sources like New Zealand’s “Medicines and Medical Devices Safety Authority”, MedSafe (among other things, MedSafe posts PDFs called “Consumer Medicine Information” on approved medications, and I always download the relevant CMI sheets). On the other hand, getting access to the particular “recommendations” that prescribing is based wasn’t easy, and getting access to the actual studies underlying “recommendation” can be even harder. That reality makes me doubt the thoroughness of my own research—and also more inclined to “give it a bit more time”.

This past Wednesday was the start of my next 28-day allotment of medications (it was delivered a week or so earlier). That morning, I was beside myself: What should I do? I had 28 more days of the drug in my house, and another 28 days would be shipped in a few weeks. I thought that maybe I could continue, and contact my doctor about stopping. Then I got clarity.

I knew that if Nigel was here, he’d have been telling me—coaching me, actually—on how to change the bad situation, just like he did in 2017 when beta blockers turned me into a “zombie” (Nigel’s actual word for it). I also knew that he never hesitated when he reacted badly to a drug he was on, including a statin at one point, which he stopped (his “need” for them having been borderline to begin with). I thought about all of that and resolved I would do what he had always done and just stop taking the drug.

When I took my medication Wednesday morning, I did not take the Ezetimibe, but I put the pill aside. Then, I sent a secure message to the practice nurse (because they took away the ability to send a message to GPs), letting them know I’d stopped the drug and why. For me, stopping the drug was non-negotiable, but I realised that it might need to be a managed process, and so, they needed to know.

I later spoke with the nurse on the phone, and she said she told my doctor about my action, and he said it was okay to stop. She also said that she’d contact the pharmacy to have them remove the drug from my next delivery (so it won’t be wasted, like this current month’s supply will be). I’ll go see my doctor next month, and I intend to begin a review of all my medications, to look for ones that may produce as good or better results with fewer side effects (especially less fatigue).

The nurse later rang back to say my GP was fine with my move, and that later one I can try a different drug—making me think to myself, “not bloody likely!” But she also said that, ultimately, the decision is mine, which I thought was refreshing.

Thursday morning, the pharmacy rang me to make sure I knew the drug was being stopped and wouldn’t be in the packet, which was great. But this is a good spot to say why the drug I have in my hime is being wasted: It’s because it’s in my house, and it can’t be reused, so it must be destroyed. The pharmacy sent me an email about a week after I’d received the previous allotment to tell me it was on its way. However, due to accumulated missed doses over the past several years, I start each 28-day alottment around a week after the scheduled start date. What this means is that I’d barely started the drug when I go the email, and the worst was yet to come: At that point, I had absolutely no reason to expect I’d have such a bad reaction. In fact, the worst effecys weren’t present until after I received my current 28-day allotment. So, there’s no way I could’ve known what would happen in order to stop it earlier. Not surprisingly, I nevertheless feel guilty about the doses of the drug that will be wasted. Of course.

This particular tale began with my somewhat reluctant willingness to go along with a medical recommendation I was sceptical about, and probably with a false sense of confidence that it’d be okay (because I haven’t had a problem with a prescription in a long time). Then it became a tale of misery and woe before becoming one of a new resolve to do what I know to be right for me, and to advocate for myself, since no one else will.

Thursday morning, I woke up feeling better than I have in several weeks—though part of me was frightened it was an illusion that would pass. However, that was 48 hours since I last took the drug, and it was leaving my system, so the misery didn’t return. In fact, I later mowed the back lawn, and it went well, though my recovery time was a bit longer than usual.

Is this a new era for me? Maybe. But it’s also possible that I’ll forget this latest bad prescription experience and repeat the mistake (unless I check this blog, as I often do: By sharing it here, I may be reminded about all this). I was also reminded, yet again, that even now Nigel can still help me find my way through difficult times, especially when I’m feeling the most miserable. That will help me again in the future.

Right now, though, I’m just glad for the end of the headaches, lightheadedness, and extra fatigue on top of the existing fatigue that other medications seem to have given me. After all, I still have to finish that DIY project, do other ones, and then in a couple weeks the back lawn will need to be mowed again. For the first time in a month, all of that genuinely feels possible.

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 16

2026-07-26T23:50:00.000+12:00

On July 26, 1986 “Sledgehammer” (video up top) by English rock musician Peter Gabriel became the month’s final one-week Number One on the Billboard “Hot 100”. Released on April 16, 1986 it was the lead single from Gabriel’s fifth studio album, So. I first heard of Gabriel when he was a founding member of Genesis, where he would remain until 1975 when he began his solo career. I think it’s kind of, sort of, ironic that the subject of last week’s “Weekend Diversion” post was a Genesis song.

I was aware of Gabriel’s solo work, and it was impossible to miss “Sledgehammer”—especially its music video (above). That video! It was ground-breaking at the time, and went on to become the all-rime most-played music video on MTV. In fact, the story of the video is so expansive that I can’t do it justice with a brief discussion here, so instead I’d recommend Wikipedia’s section discussion of it in its article about “Sledgehammer” (the entire article is linked above). I was fascinated by the video. It reminded me of a lot of stop-motion animation I’d seen over the years—and yet is was nothing like any of those. As I remember it, it was the video that made me like the song though, as was so often the case, I never bought the song or the album—or any others by Gabriel, for that matter. I liked the video and song, though.

“Sledgehammer” reached Number 3 in Australia, Number One in Canada, 3 in New Zealand (Platinum), 4 in the UK (Gold), and Number One on the USA’s “Billboard Hot 100”, “US Album Rock Tracks”, and on their “US Dance/Disco Club Play” charts, as well as reaching Number One on the Cash Box “Top 100” chart. I didn’t receive a certification in the USA.

The album So reached Number 5 in Australia (3x Platinum), Number One in Canada, New Zealand (5x Platinum), and the UK (3x Platinum), and Number 2 on the USA’s ”Billboard 200”. The album was certified 5x Platinum in the USA.

This series will return in next week, on August 2, and it’s not a last one-week Number One song!. As I said last week, August will be less work for me.

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1986” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 1 – January 18, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 2 – February 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 3 – March 1, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 4 – March 15, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 5 – March 22, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 6 – March 29, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 7 – April 19, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 8 – May 3, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 9 – May 10, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 10 – May 17, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 11 – June 7, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 12 – June 14, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 13 – July 5, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 14 – July 12, 2026
Weekend Diversion: 1986, Part 15 – July 19, 2026

Neither shaken nor stirred. Again.

2026-07-25T13:38:00.000+12:00

Every morning I make my coffee and then pick up my iPad to check my emails, social media, and any news alerts for things that happened overnight, something I’ve done that for a very long time. This morning I saw an alert for a news story: “Why phones woke thousands before 5.9 magnitude earthquake”. My first thought was, “what earthquake?” It happened at 4:51am, while I was asleep, and was centred near the King Country town of Taumarunui, some 170km (around 106 US miles) south of Kirikiriroa-Hamilton. I never felt a thing, and I also didn’t get any alert, of course, since I’m an iPhone user.

Actually, not only have I never been awakened by an earthquake (so far…), and I’ve only ever felt two earthquakes (so far…). The first was on July 19, 2004, when we were living in Paeroa, and the second (and stronger) one was on February 21, 2007 when we were living on Auckland’s North Shore, something and I mentioned both in a post about the 2007 earthquake (it’s quite handy that I’ve been blogging for nearly 20 years).

Having said all that, there have been times when I’ve felt a gentle rumble and wondered if it was a heavy truck nearby, or maybe Rūaumoko was stomping about underground. More often than not, it would’ve been a truck—or not (very mild ones, mostly too mild for humans to feel, happen all the time in New Zealand).

Earth Sciences NZ seismologist Sam Taylor-Offord told 1News that aftershocks will continue for months, and he also explained something I’d wondered about: Why folks on the east and west sides of the North Island may not feel earthquakes on the opposite side as strongly, or even at all. According to the linked article, he said:

"There's kind of this shadow between running right down the middle of the Taupō volcanic zone, where the Earth is sort of softer, hotter, and seismic waves get worn down really quickly."

The thing that started my journey into finding out more about this morning’s earthquake was the phone alerts some people got, and I think the tech behind is interesting (of course…). It’s likely to improve and become more accurate over time, and, if it does, it’ll inevitably come to iPhones, too. This tech won’t mean people will necessarily feel the earthquakes they’re alerted to, but it could give folks a brief warning before a potentially bigger one reaches them wherever they are. Maybe?

Once I got to social media late this morning, I read the stories of people who felt the earthquake. While it’s not even remotely unusual for others to have felt an earthquake I didn’t, this time my first thought was actually about how I couldn’t even imagine being awake at 4:51am on a Saturday morning. That’s definitely about me.

This morning, and not for the first time, the morning news alerts on my iPad told me about something that happened while I was asleep, and so, I was, also as usual, oblivious to it all. But the Internet brought me up to speed on the story, and this blog helped me precisely remember specific details about some of my own history with earthquakes. To me, this is a good example of technology making my life better. Others may not feel that, of course. C’est la vie.

Hauling for the house

2026-07-22T23:45:00.000+12:00

Another day, another haul post—sort of. Yesterday’s post was about the things I bought for creative work. Todat;s is all about stuff for projects around the house, which mean; that today’s post is actually closer to what my 2022 post was about. Similar, but different.

The photo up top has only three items, but they have little to do with yesterday’s post, and nothing at all to do with each other. First up, in the back and at the left is my biggest bargain: A box of flocked thin coathangers. I learned about them from YouTubers who focus on decluttering and organising. They used them because they’re thinner than normal hangers, and that means they take up less space, and because the flocking helps keep clothes from slipping off. When I started decluttering clothes from my wardrobe, I bought some of the hangers to hang up t-shirts in the newly freed-up space, mainly because I realised I never wore the t-shirts because I needed to be able to see them to remember I have them. Then, I decided to switch all my shirts to them—and that meant I needed to get a lot of hangers.

The hangers I was buying were $6.99 for a pack of eight, and I planned to get up to six packs, which would mean they’d be $55.92. But when I was using the store’s App to find out what aisle they were in, I saw they had a box of 50 of the hangers for $25.99—less than half price plus two more hangers—such a deal! But, wait—there’s more! I also got the 5% Gold Card discount.

When I hung the t-shirts on the hangers, I also tried the trick of turning the hanger “backwards”. The idea is that I wear an item, then after I wash the shirt I hang it back up the right way around. If the hanger isn’t turned around in six months or year, then, the theory goes, the shirt (or whatever) can be donated. The trouble is, I started this with t-shirts—in winter. While I do wear t-shirts on mild days, there aren’t necessarily very many of those in winter. So, I figured that this probably wasn’t among my best ideas, though I have already turned some the right way around. Here’s what that actually looks like:

On the right in the back is the next thing, a small sheet of coreflute (a plastic sheet similar to corrugated cardboard, but stonger). I bought it to make a prototype/proof of concept sort of thing for a solution to fix a defect in my kitchen cabinets, one that annoys me every single day. More on that another time, but I chose the material because it’s inexpensive and easy to work with, and the store had one that was cheaper and smaller than what one of the home centres offers (better for a prototype that may not work). However, it was also the main reason I chose that day to buy the new cutting mat I mentioned yesterday: It’ll be big enough for me to use to cut the coreflute.

In front, on the ground, are some cheap (both senses of the word…) placemats. The placemats I currently have are around 15 years old and perfectly usable, but the main reason I wanted new ones is because their white stripes mean they don’t make good backgrounds when I take photos of food I make. I take a lot of photos of my meals, but I very rarely share any because I take the photos just to get better at and shooting those photos.

I saw the new placemats on the store’s App, and I thought the'd make a better photo background, and also that they’d also go better with some fabrics in my living space. In fact, I’ve already used the placemats for a background to a photo of my breakfast for a post that’s still to come (which really means I haven’t written it yet…), however, that identified a problem.

When I finished my breakfast that day, I noticed that I'd spilled something on the placemat, so I got a damp kitchen cloth to wipe it off, and for no particular reason I lifted up the placemat and the table underneath it was wet: What I thought was a fake “weave” look turned out to be more like an actual weave, and they’re not solid as I thought (the photo at right shows the light streaming through a placemat I held up to a window). All of which means that they’re fine as photo backgrounds, but not as placemats. Still, they were cheaper than anything else I saw, and dramatically cheaper than some. You get what you pay for?

These items aren’t related to each other, except that they’re all for the house, one way or another, but two things are at least conencted to yesterday’s post: The placemats are related to creative projects (photography), and the coreflute convinced me to get the new cutting mat that I’ll use for a lot of projects, including creative ones. But all of the items in both these posts have one thing common: They all have their own stories. Apparently, everything does.

A creative haul

2026-07-21T23:40:44.006+12:00

Two weeks ago today, I went on a mini-shopping trip. I intended to do a blog post of the “haul”, much as I did way back in March of 2022, when I shared a “shopping haul” photo, in a post that was somewhat tongue-in-cheek. So, I began a post in the same vein, however, I was having trouble making it come together. When I got to the third draft of that post, I realised that this one was different: It was motivated by a very specific thing, something I kept putting off: I wanted to get supplies for certain creative things I wanted to do.

The photo up top was my second attempt to capture the “haul”, after I worked out there were two very separate “hauls”, both with stuff with different stories. This post is about the more important of the two (the other will follow tomorrow).

Of the stuff in the photo, the item standing in the back is the most general: It’s an A2-size cutting mat, something I use whenever I use a razor or craft knife to cut things out of paper, like when I make labels for storage containers in my pantry, but I’ve used cutting mats for all sorts of creative projects over the years. I already have one cutting mat that’s smaller than a sheet of office paper, and I’ve had it for 20+ years. I also have one that’s A3 (similar to 11x17 in US paper size, and the A2 one is like two of those side-by-side vertically). The small one is often too small (even WAY too small), and right now I have no idea where the larger one is, or even if I still have it (I think I do…). This new cutting mat is big enough for everything I need/want to do, which is why I’ve wanted one like it for so long.

At the right-hand side, and leaning against the mat, is a pad of paper suitable for use with acrylic paints, and on the ground in front of it is a set of acrylic paints. To its left, in the centre on the floor, is a set of mixed media brushes. To its left (the left side on the floor) is a pad of watercolour paper. I already have a set of watercolour paints that I bought a couple years ago and never used because I didn’t have the right paper. The final part of the painting supplies is standing up on the left-most side: A pad of palette paper for use with the acrylic paints. Together, all of those supplies were the real point of my shopping excursion.

Both my parents occasionally painted, mostly using oil paints, so I grew up with the (occasional) smell of oil paints, linseed oil, and turpentine, and to me, it smelled like art. A decade and a bit later, I was in high school and found myself with long blocks in “study hall”, which was boring. So, I added a basic art class. The next semester I took a painting class. After high school, I continued to paint in oil and water colours, but stopped—for absolutely no reason—before I was 20.

In the decades since, I often thought about picking it up again, and in the Covid Era I even ordered a basic set of water colours, which is what I referring to earlier. A couple years ago, I went with my brother-in-law and his partner to Raglan, a bohemian beachside community on New Zealand’s Tasman coast, west of Hamilton, and it has a lot of artists’ galleries of various kinds. We were walking through one gallery when I said offhandedly that sometimes I thought about taking up painting again, and my brother-in-law said, “why don’t you?” In a rare moment of clarity I said, “Because the last thing I need is yet another thing I’m NOT doing.” And there it stayed.

Three weeks before my shopping trip, I went to Warehouse Stationery and looked at the stuff I’d need (all of which is in the photo), but bought nothing. The first Tuesday of every month is “Gold Card” day, which gives us cardholders (folks 65+) a 5% discount, and while that’s not much, it’s also not nothing. But, why this month, and not any of the previous “Gold Card” days over the past few years? It was because I came to a realisation.

There are many things I want to do that I’ve felt I couldn’t do for one reason or another. For example, I can’t work on furniture because there’s no room in the garage, and because that was the case, I felt I couldn’t do anything about any of the other creative things I’ve wanted to do, either, and that obviously included painting. I also realised that there were specific barriers, such as, I didn’t have any of the things in the photo. Buying them wasn’t horribly expensive, and getting them means that I can paint, regardless of whether I actually do. The barriers are now removed, and the rest is up to me—and inspiration.

I have no illusions that I’ll ever be objectively “good” at painting—though, how can I ever find out if I never try? However, the reality is that the main reason I started focusing my visual creativity on photography was that it was the first time I managed to capture what my mind saw. At least now I have what I need to find out if painting is for me—assuming I choose to try.

There’s one more thing I bought for creative reasons: In the centre of the things standing and leaning against the cutting mat are some house-shaped cookie cutters. I saw them by chance when I was looking for something else, and they’re perfect for a craft project I’ll work on later this year, which I’ll talk about then—also assuming I actually do that, of course. However, I’ll also use them for making cookies, so even if the craft project doesn’t work out, I’ll still get use out of them—which is honestly more than I can say about anything else in the photo, apart from the cutting mat, which will get a lot of use.

Part of my motivation for acting was that I got 5% off everything I bought, which, as I said, isn’t much, but it’s also not nothing. But everything I bought—in this “creative haul” and the one I’ll talk about tomorrow—was something to me, regardless of whether I use the creative stuff or not. The biggest thing, though, wasn’t the stuff I bought, nor what ultimately happens with them, it was that I decided to start removing barriers that have kept me from doing the things I want to do, the things that might actually finally help me build whatever my life is going to become. Actually, that’s precisely why I created my latest plan to change my house, as I discussed last Friday.

In the end, my hope is that all of this barrier removal so far will lead me to remove even more barriers. If that happens, it’ll be a bargain at any price. Discount not required.