Saturday, May 15, 2010

Do what you love to do .......



These are some of the beans that got away. Hidden in the bean stalk they are now encased in green hides as tough as old boots - totally inedible you would think but Miriam suggests taking these and saving some for seed and making a bean feast with the rest. Apparently the flavour is so delicious - nothing at all like dried beans.  I just love how beautiful they are - nature sure has got a way with colours - green and purple together looks great and I do so wish they were magic. Then I could get rich the easy way.

I wanted to tell a story this week that I hope Doug and Rosie don't mind me telling.  Oh well it's a family blog so too bad.  When Doug and Cath lived with us last year we would often go out walking in the evenings. As well as admiring all the houses and gardens along the way the walk would also involve much admiring of lampposts.  Like this




and this .....


Being a linesman Doug knows all the nuances of a lamppost - all about their size shape, age and what different kinds of lampposts do. And may I add all of this is truly interesting information and if you'd been walking with him you would have admired them also.  Now Rosie who likes to live anonymously and as a normal human being in Wellington has so far managed to keep this lamppost interest under wraps but last week she reported that she was walking with her flat mate when she stopped to admire a lamppost.  If she had been with anyone else she would have been accorded freak status so she sent Doug an email blaming him for this curious obsession. This is his reply - which I found very funny

Dearest R Chops ,it may very well be true that you have crossed a line
> and become a hard wood power pole pervert.Brace yourself All the clues
> are there , you carnt fight it, like it or not it's all about DNA ,you
> are your gradads gran daughter. I can trace my obseson directley back
> to him and your only one step behind me. You have grandad to blame ,i
> mean thank. On the bright side you have access ,consider yourself
> lucky , unlike myself who lives in a land with only soft wood round
> poles , you however can enjoy every day contact with your square hard
> wood faverates ,should you choose to do so you can visit a lovely
> power pole daily, where as all I have are memories.Still with my new
> lap top and google street scene I to am able view the beauty of my
> favorates as and when ,but only on the Internet It's not the same
> Dont forget God has opened your eyes, you are now a member of a
> handful of select people,so select I'm the only other one. Now that
> your hooked may I surgest a visit to an Australian rain forest to view
> first hand these magnificent trees before they are cut down. REMEMBER
> your not a
> Tree hugger your a power pole lover!
> All I ask is you pat them,talk to them nicely before any photos are
> taken. Your friends will understand
> Love Doug
> Ps send me your bank details and if I'm not sacked before the months
> end I'll buy you dinner.


So here's to a  week of indulging your interests -  no matter how strange.


Cheers Marg

4 comments:

  1. pa ha ha - that is hilarious - and oh so quirky - we all have our obsessions some of them shared by fewer or more people, that's all. I'd say yours was in the "fewer" category but while there are bird watchers and train spotters and keen home sewers you need never feel freakish: there is always somebody who finds your interest strange and others who totally get it.

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  2. Those are some mighty nice lamp post shots there Marg, I can see how you'd develop an unnatural fondness for them once you were in the know. And hey, as a maker of fabric robots with haberdashery controls, I am not pointing any fingers re. weird interests and hobbies.

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  3. Great... now the whole world can potentially find out about this. Goodbye social life! Na its not all bad, Liz laughed and I wasnt asked to find somewhere else to live. Lucky my friends are so accepting.

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  4. I asked Mum if she'd like to comment. She said an exclamation mark will suffice. Well we all laughed and laughed (larfed and laarfed) because we understand and at the same time are quietly thinking of our own special interests.

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