Thursday, November 29, 2007

Buns, buttons and bums

Today "at work" a young woman I work with was joking about a young man I work with. This particular man is quite well buffed, takes pride in his physique and has his own wardrobe much like a former colleague I worked with a few years ago. The exception is this young man reminds me of the young men I used to box with. (Note I have been reminded today of the importance of anonyonmity) hence no subject names are being used.

Clearly my hearing is not that good because i thought the young lady was referring to the young mans "buns". I thought she was a little young to use this term but that I would pick up on the conversation. There were strange looks as I started referring to the young mans "buns" later in the day. A few sentences later it was explained that the the young women had in fact been referring to how he wears his "buttons" to far down to show off his chest. This is as you will appreciate quite a different from reference to his "buns". I blushed. He blushed. And he could quite legitimately accuse me of sexual harassment.

One of my readers today advised me that my blog is marginally better than being bored at work. I may or may not mailmarshal this reader. Although I guess that wont be necessary

Today, I moved back into a space I was in a few months ago. But it was different today. Today that space fitted. Much like you can't fit a bambino in the same space as a rolls royce. Always important to know what car you are driving, where to find your park, and what car you want to drive and where you want to get to.

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

All is calm all is bright - the outlook for Thursday is fine

Today I had my consultation with Clare O'Brien (I also met the women who works for a national organisation that has advised me that grammar is important. She is a wench. But a powerful wench who knows how to use her verbs, her commars and apostrohes. She is still a wench.)
Clare O'Bren who has no google history is not like my dentist. She is middle 50ish, olde enough to be my dentist's mother, she is not Irish and she wasn't particularly funny. She wore a lot of brown. But actually had very "posh doctor shoes".

Her office as such was very 80ish. It included and Atlas and book on AIDS which possible came out the year that AIDS was first notified. The only unique thing about her consultation room were the feathers on the curtain. Very American Indian. But wait, its a room. Its just you and the dr - why do you need a curtain? Ah, this is all newish terroiotry to me. She was perfunctory and effiecnt in her tasks. She read my medical history. It is a quick read. She didnt make any comment. She didnt ask me where I work. In that moment and now it doesn't matter. She didnt know that I actuially know A lot about screening, a lot about Health. I am not defined by my work. I am who I am like th great Broadyway musical. However, she quickly ascertained I do not knwo a lot about my body.

It turns out my "breast cancer" is a boil. It can be fixed with magnessiusm and ointmemt. She did note that it was quite unusual but not a lump and not breast cancer. She didn't quite know how to record this 'event'. She did not give me andy other medical advice. Instead on the train home I read the following info on the back of the Bactroban 2% ointemnet leaflet:

Take care and build good liefstyle habits....
  • Have regualr daily exercise such as a brisk 30 minute walk
  • Walk whenever possible, and watch your wieght
  • Eat a healthy balanced diet
  • No smoking, moderate alcohol and a postive attititude
  • Keep your midn active with games, puzzles, reading, friends
  • As your body ages and needs extra care you will appreciate these healthy liefstyle habits

All things I knew, but it was good to be reminded.

on the way home in the railway subway the guitair man was playing his rendition of Silent Night. It was the frist time aI had heard him play this. It makes a chaneg from what he usually plays. No doubt now that he has a new tune I'll hear it numerous times befroe Christmas,. But today it was good to hear.

Today I realised it snot about being in the space I was or could be, its about being in the space I am now.

Oh, also on the way home I passed a lady wearing a pink ribbon. It is not soemthing I udnerestiamte - cancer. But I am not going to be scared by it. I am going to face it and life full on. I consider my boil a timely reminder about life and living. I know I am fortunate that my breast cancer was a boil - its funny but the bit about reasssessing is not funny.

I'm finding my space again on a number of levels. Slowly and surely. It doesn't mean I still don't do the dumb thing. It just means I'm human.

Eftpos, Lady Doctors and the train ride home

I will continue my discourse on my love for the wheelie bin and the provenacne of my wheelie bins later this week. Tonight I will merely note that one of the things I love about the wheelie bins is their shere basic function of mobility - being able to wheel ones rubbish around. But other things of note happened today.

1. While standing at teh Westpac etfpos machine, the man in front of me left his receipt behind after he had completed his transaction. I had a hunch he did so on purpose. So I deliberateley did not look at it and put it down as if was not going to read it and pretended I had put it in the waste disposal part of the machine. Once he had clearly got out of sight I turned it over. His account was in excess credit of $17,000. Wanker, I thought. You jsut wanted me to know that you have that amount in your account.

2. Today I made an appointment to see a lady dr for a ladies issue. This is a big event for me. I have not had a signicant "medical issue" since I had scarlet fever when I was 5 years old. I am hoping my issue is not that significant now. I get freaked out at seeing a dr for personal reasons. This is ironcial given I worked for Health for so long. Anyway, today i learnt it pays to be registered with an inner city dr otherwise you cant get an appointment. My drs name is clare obrien. I found her in the telephone book after two unsucessful attempts at pratices. My ea (well the team ea) couldn't udnerstand why I wanted a telephone book. She advised me to use the internet to look up a telephone becasue it would be quicker. It is hard to fin telephone books at my workplace! - this does not allow for the fact that you don't know who you are ringing. When you are rining an unknown dr it is easier to go by the hard copy of a telephone book. I hope she is as irish, funny, and hot at her job as my dentist is. And I hope that its a not serious, but if it is serious then I will deal with it. Problem is I am just not medicalised enough that this all quite an event for me. last night I cried. I was very worried. But tonight I know I can do it and face it. Gosh, just think how many people go to see a GP every day.

3. Today I lady and her son travelled on the 6.18. They came puffing into my carriage about 6.17 with their luggage. they had been to the South Isladn for a trip and their train from Christchurch had been delayed and the ferry had been delayed. I was so pleased they were pleased. Usually, its just another train ride. They were very animated and were talking baout how pleased they were. They also talked a lot about what they would eat for dinner, which dairies would be open in Greytown and what they would do when they got home. One passenger then moved and went to another carriage. I think she was a train snob. IO think she thought the lady and her son were too remedial. Perhaps I am being as judgemnetal in calling her a train snob. The ladies son was I think a little remedial. How could I tell? he didn't really talk that much. What? can you call someone remdial because he smiles a lot and his protective of his luagge and his mother. or, just ebcasue he listens to walkman with one headphone. Music is music whether yu have a MP3 player or a telphone thant plays music like a mP3 player - which hello, I do:-) - although my remedial thing is I need to learn to download cheaper than gettiing that telecom monkey to do it for me.

The four boys sitting in front of me boys heading back to one of the private boys iN amsterotn noted they thought the adult son was remeidal it when he got off the train with his mother. They had just completed a NCEA exam (NCEA is now in my vocab). They didn't know was anarobic was. Whtehre it was not enough oxygen or too much oxygen. The lady who got off at Greytown with her son knew in detail Just before she got off the train she stopped by them and gave them a full definition. She explained she knew so much becasue her husband was a dr. She smiled and left. I wanted to say "good onya lady" and heck I didnt know that but then I dint do 5th form science. But thats a seperate story.

Anarobic - its all about oxyegen. Whether we have enough or not and how we use the space we are in.

Now I must iron my clothes, becasue tomorrow is going to be the peak of my career at my new workplace to date. I have a "workshop". Theoretcially its a workshop in partnership with others. But its the first time I meet all my key stakeholders. I need to wow them and woo them and treat them like our lvies depend on each other. I will put on my happy interview face and disposition. Everyone is my best best friend and we will all work happily together for great learning outocmes and to maximise all our potential Or, something, like that.

then at the end of the day I will see the dr.

Monday, November 26, 2007

The Wheelie Bin - Part 1

Monday night is the night of the "wheelie bin". I love the wheelie bin. I also love the rubbish dump. I am not sure what these two things tell you. My love of the rubbish dump has been distanced by the Carterton Rubbish dump lady who sits in a little office. It's like a toll office and she has a figurine of Mr T from the A Team that sits by her cashier. My first visits to the Carterton Rubbish dump involved encounters with the rubbish dump lady that bordered on serious interrogation and requiring the furnishing of a little red ticket to prove I was indeed a rates paying Cartertonian and therefore eligible to use the rubbish dump. These were followed by the more in depth questioning of whether my boot was really lined with green waste only or whether the green waste was actually camouflaging something more sinister such as "household rubbish". I was nearly deterred from using the rubbish dump, but perseverance is building up trust with the rubbish dump lady.

I love the wheelie bin because you can fill it with whatever you want and there are no questions are asked - although generally I do only fill it with green waste. What I love most is.or standing on it to squeeze as much I can. However I have been advised by the wheelie bin man not to overfill my bin hence the development of the strategy to stand and squeeze and squash. This ritual occurs preferably on a Sunday, foll lowed by a last minute squeeze and condense on the Monday night and then I wheel the wheelie bin ready for its weekly pickup on Tuesday.

I love the wheelie bin so much , I own four wheelie bins. More on the history of my wheelie bins tomorrow, because I realise I have to keep my entries shorter than yesterday. I also have to change my clock on my calendar so it reflects the right day.

There is a good article in this weeks on "carbon sinners" in the ecological column. Are you a carbon sinner. If so, "guilt, as the church has known for centuries, is a rich vein".

Check it out
and also:
Today I learnt how to use the spellcheck. This will not improve my grammar, but it will improve my spelling!

Saturday, November 24, 2007

A long way to get a letterbox

Today I am the proud owner of a new letterbox. Did I need a new letterbox? No. The old letterbox was perfectly functional at delivering those bills that still come in the post and other miscellaneous mail that proliferates at this time of year. In fact, this weekend has been quite a lettebox weekend for both Ali and myself. Yesterday Ali recieved his first hardcopy mail. Well, actually it was addressed to both Ali and I at our street address. Ali's name was spelt in full: A. Burk. This is due to the fact that I told some marketing caller that my partner's name was Ali Burk. What prompted me to do this was that so the person on teh end of the phone did not think I lived alone. So, I suddendly found myself saying that my partners name was Ali and then when they asked for the surname volunteered Burk - which was my mother's maiden name. The telephone person inisted that it was best I take my partner to the LJ Hooker evening being hosted at the Solway Park Hotel so we could get maximum benfeit from all they have to offer. I don't really want to go the LJ Hooker evening. But apparently there will be light refreshments and the chance to go in a lucky draw. I do though quite like the thought of being a property invester. This is unlikely to happy in the immediate future as I am barely find time to develop the one property I have to the potential that it is capable of being. There art imitates life or something. Anyhow, I thought why not? So I'm enrolled or RSVPd to go to a session at the Solway in early December. I think LJ Hooker and Solway people would be quite astounded if I took Ali along to the evening. And in fact so would he. So, I wont! I will have to make some excuse like he does shift work or something. I shouldn't really be making any excuses. Why do you need to have a partner to invest? The obvious answer is that it doubles your income. But even if I had a partner, surely you have some financial independence, at least until you are married, or in that stage of full om commitement. LJ JHooker and their representatvies make to many assumptions. For this reason I shouldn't go to the evening. However, I wish to use it as a motivational opprtunity to advance m retirement planning and property developmenet aspirations futehr than watching Property Ladder on Channel 8.

Back to the purchase of my letterbox. I discovered it on TradeMe. It is a macrcocarapa letterbox. I am having a macrocarpa phase. Essentially it is a slab of macrocarpa (last week I purhcased a slab of macrocarpa and turned it into a seat on Trade me - this is what inadvertendtly led me to the letetrbox) that has been turned into a letterbox. It was advertsied as being like no other in your street. In fact I think it will be like no other in my town. Design wise it will be a triumph once it is mounted. But that is some way off. I may have to ask Ken my neighbour to help me mount my letterbox. It needs a hole in it possibly one that can be bolted to the post. I dont think I have the equipment or skills to do this without smattering it into the firewood that it would otherwsie be. I do though have the letterbox. Although I trsut my neighbours I have invested too much in this letterbox to let it be stolen.

Now the Trademeseller clearly stipulated that it was pick up only. He was located in "Kapiti". I thought the letterbox was so uinique that if I won the acution then it would justiify driving from one side of the lower north island to ther other and return. Under normal circumsatnces this would have been the case. Howeever once I got over the Rimutakas I had an idea. I could save time and drive through the Akatarawa Rd. This would bring me out at Waikanae. This was not really an inspired idea in retrospect because where I needed to come out was Raumati. It is long time since I have driven this road. So long I had fogtten what a terrible road it is. It is a road that in some parts barely fits a Toyota Corolla little own a Toytota and someones Tonka Toy four wheel drive. That was the least of my worries. I had barely stareted off down Akatarawa Rd when I suddely heard what I thought was a siren. It was a siren with flashing lights. As I was the only one on the road then I realised the unmarked large red POLICE car was wanting me to stop. I stopped. And I noted here that both I and the POLICE car wer stopped on a double yellow line. So surely that means that the POLICE lady driving the POLICE car commited an infringement. She asked me if I had seen her. Well, no celarly I had not. She being Officer number X146. She then advised me taht I had been going 15km over the speedlimit. That is I was going 65km in a 50 km zone. She asked me if I was in a hurry. Well, the correct answer to that was of course I was in a hurry. In a hurry to buy my Trademe letterbox. I said no, and that I had just come off the Rimutakas and hadn't realised how fast I was going. I wanted to say that one can only go so fast in a 1990 Toyota. Instead I attemtped to look as remorseful as I could. She asked for my drivers license. I fumbled and it took me at least every docoument in my purse to locate it. She then went to her POLICE car to verify my address and perfect driving record. Well, thats what I thought she was doing. It transpires that she was writing me a ticket, or as the official piece of POLICE paper records it Notice N 6817096. She handed it to me. Smiled and said "It's not the crime of the centrury". Well there you go in purchasing my letterbox I became a minor criminal. The fine cost $80.00. The exact cost of the letterbox. It could have been worse I guess. At least my car was registered and warranted.

After navaigating the long and expensive winding road of the Akatarawa and encoutering a few flash backs from when I used to visit Moss Green and Reikorangi Poterry with a special friend from a few years ago now I arrived at the agreed address for the letterbox pick up. I had left phone messages earlier in the day but appranetly not on the Trade Me sellers phone. As I entered into the agreed address driveway I noticed lots of windows and doors open. Great, I thought the owners and the TradeMe seller are home. I knokced on the door. A lady called out Hi. I responded in kind and then advised I was there to pick the letterbox up. "What letterbox?" she said. It turns out she was a real estate agent running an open home. She was not interested in selling me a letterbox. She was only interetsed in selling me a house. She looked at me in disgust. I walked off. With an incorrect phone number all I had was the sloace of coffee on Rosetta Road. The cafe is still there. It is still good coffee and food. The house I used to visit just up the road is still there too, but its been done over. I walked on the beach and then decided I would go back one more time. I did and the

He opened his garage. In it there were two late model cars parked and an old lady. She was either his mother or mother in law. I dont really think she was parked like the cars but happended to be looking for something jsut as he opend the door. The thought did cross my mind. I hope this is not elder abuse. The the old lady spoke. She advised me the letterbox was big enopugh to fit a possum in. I note here I actually think it would have to be small possum but if you live ina garage I guess it would seem big. I paid my cash and took the letterbox.

It is a very nice and unique letterbox. I feel like I 've rescued it from being stuck in a nondescript Raumati street. It will go much better by my hedge.

However the letterbox took me nearly all my Sunday, over 200km and and cost with petrol and fine would be in excess of $200.

Please rememebr this when you post me your Chrismas cards!

Annie Lennox

Well as Homeperm has pointed out (here there would be a hyperlink thingee) but becasue I am tired of seeing the circle go round and round and can only cope with upskilling so much in one day there is no hyperlink, this blog has been a long time in gestation so there is much to write about. First of all, today I spend a time taking photos today but cant down load them yet. It is frustrating for me.

Ok, this site is Hebehobo. It is more fitting that Hebehob as Hebequeens subject writes these entries. There is possibly an apostrohe that goes after Hebequeens but I have not included. An academic resgitrar would remind you that good grammer is important. I am not saying it i snot important. Just that it is unlikely to be a feature of this site. Focus on the content. For the first few entries. The photos will come. People on Trademe have been known to comment that Hebehobo is a very nice lady and it is a pleasure doing busniness with her!

But this posting is really about the subtitle of this blog. It is the refrain, chrorus of Sing from Annie Lennox latest new album "Songs of Destruction". It's a great album. Possibly her best for a very long time. This particualrl song is dediecated to those who work in Africa towards HIV/ AIDS reduction. The whole album is dedicated to "humanitarian workers, peace activists and NGOs across the globe"/ It's actaully quite dark in places. But I like that. What I liek most about the pratcicular quote I have used it is reminds me of two things. The first is that we must use our voice. This is what this bliog will be about. Using my voice, and of coruse that of Hebequeen. Also Sister Henry, a nun who taught piano at Sacred Heart in Lower Hutt was the first person that taught me that phrase "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger". She was going to be my piano teacher after my Mum becasue my Mum and I had decided that well it would be good to get the benefit of someone else teaching me. Sister Henry died after I had only a few lessons. And my mother died not long after Sister Henry. They were both strong women in each their own ways. They both as piano teachers knew the improtance of singing, music, harmony and finding ones voice.

Friday, November 23, 2007

Hebehobo enters the world

This is the blog of the Hebequeen. The Hebequeen is not very IT savvy. Thus she has created an account in cyberspace with her royal title but the blogpeople wont let her on. It is probably quite fitting in any case that the Hebequeen has two names. Hebehobo is thus the blogchild of Hebequeen. The Hebequeen is a Gemini. This start to Blog life is a little like one of those firecrackers that sizzles slowly and you think ho hum but then suddenly ka-boom there is a spectauclar flowering and there she goes. You wish you'd never moved your eyes. Much like the flowering of a Hebe. This site will be a dedicated gardening journal and observation on life. More on that in my next entry. Just need to get my plantings in place first and also my settings in place.