What a great day it is today - weather-wise at least. Close friends are not so good but they continue to be resilient. The weekly walking group was down to three today but we managed!!
Daughter #2 and grandson arrive from Melbourne for a week next week. Can't wait to see them again. This reminded me of a lovely overnight trip I did with our granddaughter last year - just over a year ago before the troubles started! A journey in the campervan out to Kaitoreti Spit at the southern end of Banks Peninsula. We've done it before and she loves it. But how much longer do I have as she is not far off being a teenager and the appeal of a country journey with grandpa is not likely to be so appealing.
We detoured on the way home to measure the length of the Governor's Bay jetty, a task I was given in my boy scout days a million years ago. And here it is - that day was a beauty too. About the same time one of my photographic groups taught me how to use the sketch mode of Photoshop so the first image I tried it out on was this very image.
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Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Monday, September 5, 2011
Transported..........back!!
4th September.
First anniversary of the day the earth shook violently. What a year it has been since!!
Transport - a project with two other photographers for PPNZ - the intention being for each of us to produce a triptych.
How about a few hours at Ferrymead?? Great idea, great weather, great company. Haven't been there for years and years. Thoroughly enjoyed it. Will go back mid week to view the many static displays.
The old steam train reminded me of days gone by many moons ago. In fact my big brother, Barry, reminded me of this when he presented me with his recently produced autobiography "One Foot After Another - memoirs of a good life".
When I was a kid, we used live on the Main South Road at Hornby opposite the Hornby railway station. I used to go over to the station almost daily at ~6.45pm to watch the 'Boat Train', more recently called 'The Southerner' as it thundered through with a full head of steam and smoke en route to Lyttelton to meet up with the overnight ferry to Wellington. At the beginning of those daily adventures, my Mum asked my big brother to take me over to the station, presumably to get me out from under her feet (although I can't for one minute imagine me being nothing other than the perfect child - yeah, right!!). He sat me up on his shoulders on the overhead bridge as 300 tons of smoking iron thundered underneath - but not before the driver yanked hard on his steam whistle to greet the wee chap perched on his big brother's shoulders atop the bridge. For reasons I still don't fully understand, my big brother did not seem to appreciate the wet warm feeling he suddenly felt down his back as that driver pierced the evening glow.
I still love you big brother. Forgive me!! The daily adventures continued for years. Innocent days!! Oh, and I'm really sorry I smashed your birds egg collection a few years earlier.
First anniversary of the day the earth shook violently. What a year it has been since!!
Transport - a project with two other photographers for PPNZ - the intention being for each of us to produce a triptych.
How about a few hours at Ferrymead?? Great idea, great weather, great company. Haven't been there for years and years. Thoroughly enjoyed it. Will go back mid week to view the many static displays.
The old steam train reminded me of days gone by many moons ago. In fact my big brother, Barry, reminded me of this when he presented me with his recently produced autobiography "One Foot After Another - memoirs of a good life".
When I was a kid, we used live on the Main South Road at Hornby opposite the Hornby railway station. I used to go over to the station almost daily at ~6.45pm to watch the 'Boat Train', more recently called 'The Southerner' as it thundered through with a full head of steam and smoke en route to Lyttelton to meet up with the overnight ferry to Wellington. At the beginning of those daily adventures, my Mum asked my big brother to take me over to the station, presumably to get me out from under her feet (although I can't for one minute imagine me being nothing other than the perfect child - yeah, right!!). He sat me up on his shoulders on the overhead bridge as 300 tons of smoking iron thundered underneath - but not before the driver yanked hard on his steam whistle to greet the wee chap perched on his big brother's shoulders atop the bridge. For reasons I still don't fully understand, my big brother did not seem to appreciate the wet warm feeling he suddenly felt down his back as that driver pierced the evening glow.
I still love you big brother. Forgive me!! The daily adventures continued for years. Innocent days!! Oh, and I'm really sorry I smashed your birds egg collection a few years earlier.
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