Fireworks, rabid Christians, and drive-by commenters

Oh goody, it’s nearly November. That means every night for the next couple of weeks is fireworks night as far as the local kids are concerned. Last night there were loud squeals and bangs going off next door, terrorising the cats. Well, terrorising George, anyway – he was outside when the noise started, so I went out to try and find him and bring him in. It didn’t take much searching – I opened the door and immediately a black shadow dashed past, belly almost on the ground as he tried to slink and run at the same time. He spent the rest of the night under the bed, refusing to come out even when tempted with crunchies.

Ming and Saffy, on the other hand, jumped a bit and looked worried at the first bang, but quickly settled back down with “oh, it’s THAT time of year again, is it?” expressions on their faces and ignored the rest of the noise.

We should have a more peaceful night tonight, though – it’s stormy and horrible out there, so if this weather carries on until tonight there won’t be anyone venturing outside to play with fireworks.



I’m wondering what exactly is the appeal of what I always think of as “drive-by commenting”, those weird, seemingly random and sometimes abusive comments you get from people who don’t seem to have actually read your diary. I suppose it’s the same impulse to make a mark on the world (but lack of talent to do it in any constructive way) that leads to graffiti – I’ve never felt the urge to graffiti either, so that’s probably why I can’t understand the drive-by commenters. I had one yesterday that annoyed me, and I was tempted for a moment to leave a comment on their diary (especially when I had a glance at their diary and discovered it seems to be the home of a rabid Christian (I have no objection to Christianity (or any other religion) in general, but I detest the kind of person who feels it is their duty to force their religion on others, not caring who they hurt in the process), who seems (from comments others have left) to make a habit of this sort of thing), but sense prevailed, and I decided the troll wasn’t worth my effort to feed. I’m still left wondering what exactly they get out of it, though. How sad and boring must your life be if you get a thrill out of knowing you’ve caused a complete stranger a few seconds of irritation?

Of course, not being one of the big names of DD, I don’t get drive-by comments nearly as often as some people do, so I can’t really complain. I know some people have responded to the annoyance by restricting comments or turning them off altogether. But almost all of the friends I’ve met on DD have been because someone I didn’t know left me a comment, so I definitely think the benefits of allowing comments outweigh the occasional irritation. And if I didn’t allow everyone and anyone to leave a comment, then I wouldn’t get the good random comments – like the person who accidentally came across this entry while looking for something else, and was amused enough to leave a nice comment – that one really made my day.

Remember that study plan?

Ok, so the first week of my study plan was completely wiped out, as was last weekend, and last week was a bit of a washout too (I did get a bit done, but not much, what with going to the movies on Tuesday, and having friends (B&N – I still haven’t figured out this nomenclature thing) round for dinner on Thursday, and work being generally busy all week), but I had good intentions for this weekend. “Had” being the operative word in that sentence.

I got up on Saturday morning, and decided to check my emails and browse a few websites for an hour or so, and then get to work. Half an hour later, I get an email from lytteltonwitch telling me that otakuu is in town, and she’s meeting her for lunch, and would I like to come along? Well, how could I turn that down? (Quite easily, you might think, but we’ve already established I’ve got no willpower – and anyway, I reasoned I’d have a quick lunch and a chat, be away for a couple of hours at the most, and still have the rest of the day to study.) Of course, first I had to sort out some books to take along, and get changed, and finish reading my email, and by the time I’d done all that, lytteltonwitch was at the door.

She’d arranged to meet otakuu and the kids at Borders, so I used all the willpower I had left over from resisting lytteltonwitch’s invitation to make sure I didn’t buy anything (and I was pretty successful – although I did go next door to Nature’s Discovery (or whatever it’s called) and buy a present for MrPloppy, but his birthday’s coming up, so I’ve got an excuse for that one!). Borders is very dangerous.

We went to Browsers for lunch (of course! The staff there are starting to recognise us), and while the kids watched the fish, the adults exchanged books and juicy Bookcrossing gossip. Lytteltonwitch had a couple of books she’d brought back from the convention for me (well, one, Funny Cats, was for me, the other, Doctor Who: Warriors of the Deep was for MrPloppy), and I’d brought along Secrets of the Jury Room by Malcolm Knox, The Nether Regions by Sue Gough, After Dark by Jayne Castle, and Morrigan’s Cross by Nora Roberts. A lovely lunch, but eventually the appeal of the fish tank started to wane for the kids and they began to get restless, so otakuu had to go. Lytteltonwitch and I stayed talking, and then she offered me a ride home, with the proviso that we stop off at the second-hand bookshop…

Bad move. All my willpower went out the window when I remembered it is Halloween on Tuesday, so I had to stock up on suitably spooky children’s books to release (or hand out to kids if we get any trick or treaters). I did at least manage to restrain myself to the 3 for $1 shelf, but even that restraint was spoilt when I spotted The Light of Other Days by Arthur C Clarke and Stephen Baxter, which *wasn’t* on the cheap table. Oh well, it’s only money or something (remind me I said that when we can’t pay our bills next month…)

Once we finally escaped the evil clutches of the bookshop and got back here, of course I had to offer lytteltonwitch a coffee, so we sat talking for a while (during which lytteltonwitch spotted Sharing Blood by Jennifer Maxwell (which B had given me to release) and swiftly claimed it), and suddenly it was after 4 o’clock!

The rest of the evening was spent registering the books for Halloween (I’ve still got to put labels in them), and watching Legend of Sleepy Hollow on TV (I’ve seen it before, but MrPloppy wanted to watch it, and I’m never one to turn down a Johnny Depp movie…), so another day gone without even opening my textbooks…

However, today was another day, and miracle of miracles, I actually spent most of it studying! I’m nowhere near caught up with where I wanted to be by now, but at least I’ve made a good start, and as long as work isn’t too busy, I should be able to get through all the revision I wanted to cover by Saturday. As long as nobody invites me anywhere for the next 6 days…



Currently reading: Pagan in Exile by Catherine Jinks

Aramoana

I was born in Dunedin, and spent several chunks of my childhood there, so prior to 13 November 1990, Aramoana (or just “The Spit” as it was almost universally known before the protests against the smelter proposal brought it to national attention) was just a place to go for a day at the beach, to fish off the end of the spit or to slide down the giant sandhill at the other end of the beach. The township itself didn’t really impinge on our conciousness – just another collection of baches and the odd permanent home, the same as you’d find clustered around any beach in New Zealand.

That’s what made the shootings at Aramoana all the more horrific – not only was there a mass murder, unheard-of in New Zealand, but it was happening in a place we knew and loved (and to people we indirectly knew – Dad comes from Port Chalmers, so knew many of the families involved, and in fact went to school with Stewart Guthrie, the policeman who was shot trying to arrest Gray). I don’t think I’ve been back to Aramoana since the shootings – for years it felt like it would be wrong to go there and impinge on the grief of the tiny township (or worse, be thought of as sightseers), and even now there seems to be a taboo about the place.

So when I went with the Chick Flicks group last night to see Out of the Blue, I was expecting it to be a bit disturbing. But I knew from reviews that it had been sensitively filmed, so I wasn’t too worried. And I’m not normally affected by film violence, even when I know it’s a true story – film has a wonderful (or awful, depending on how you look at it) distancing effect.

What I didn’t take into account was the recognition factor. Every scene was somewhere I recognised (most of the Aramoana scenes were actually filmed in nearby Long Beach to avoid upsetting the Aramoana residents with reenactments of the massacre, but as several of Dad’s family have baches at Long Beach and we spent many Boxing Days there, that just brought it even closer to home for me), so it wasn’t “just a movie” – it was all very very real, like I was watching it happening live on the TV news. I was feeling quite sick by the time the movie ended.

I can see why many people didn’t want this movie made, which reopens a lot of old wounds. But if there has to be a film about Aramoana, I’m glad it was this one. The very realism that made it so disturbing was also its redeeming feature – its honesty shows great respect to the victims and their families, and to the devastated community. Can you imagine what Hollywood might have done with this story? And the fact that it was disturbing (and filmed in a way that made it even more so – jerky camera angles, strange focus effects, and long pauses where the screen went black and silent) is a good thing, really – a film about a mass murder should disturb you – I wouldn’t want to walk out of a film like this feeling any other way.



Ok, on to more cheerful things like games and chocolate.

MrPloppy and I went round to the Gwilks’ on Monday night, to play Thurn and Taxis, one of the new games they’d bought which we hadn’t had time to play on Saturday night. They’d only been able to play the two-player version, so were desperate to invite someone round to play it properly :-)

It was a good game, and a fun night, but of course meant I didn’t get any study done (yeah, like I was really going to…), and was a bit late, which made waking up for work yesterday morning a bit tough. And of course with another late night last night at the movies, I’m just about asleep at my desk today.

At least I can take comfort from the fact that I’m not as tired as lytteltonwitch must be – she flew home from Adelaide on Monday night (and didn’t get in to Christchurch until well after midnight because her plane was delayed to take on extra fuel because they were worried about the bad weather in NZ), but still had to go to work yesterday. And came to the movies with us last night!

We met before the movie for dinner in the food court, and she gave me a couple of chocolate Freddos that were my share of the consolation prize we won in the convention’s limerick contest (I got a text on Saturday saying “quick, what’s a limerick about kiwi bookcrossers?”, so between Mum, MrPloppy and I we came up with


There was a Lytteltonwitch,
Who never wore a stitch.
She released some books,
But got funny looks,
Which gave her the bookcrossing itch.


– not exactly high poetry, but ok for 30 seconds’ work, we thought :-) I think she got a prize more for having the audacity to “phone a friend” in New Zealand for assistance than for the quality of the limerick); and a gift from servalan, some chocolates from the Haig factory they visited on Thursday.

The Secret Project

I don’t think awhina reads my diary, but just in case she does, I’ll be keeping the details of my latest cross-stitch project private, because it’s destined to be a wedding present for her.

They’re having an octagonal-themed wedding (because they met in Dunedin’s Octagon), so of course I had to make the cross-stitch in the shape of an octagon too. There’s not many octagonal wedding samplers out there, so I had to design my own, adapting another design.

I’m not going to tell you exactly what the picture is though, so we can play the “guess what these weird shapes are going to be” game. The guessing game’s going to be a bit more difficult than usual, though, because it’s an assisi design, where the background is stitched and the picture left blank :-)

Anyway, here’s the first couple of progress reports:

Not much to see here, just a tacked outline of the final shape (because the centre will be unstitched, I’m starting from the edge for a change, so working out exactly where the edges are in advance will hopefully reduce the likelihood of errors later on). The colours haven’t shown up great in this photo, unfortunately – the fabric is dove grey, and the cotton is a rich variagated red/purple mix (assisi is traditionally stitched in a single colour, but I’m using variagated thread (which changes colour subtly with each stitch and can create all sorts of different effects depending on the order you do the stitches in) to give an appearance of texture to the background).

The background begun. Most of what looks like edges in this won’t be when you next see it, but there is a tiny bit of the picture in there – I’m just not telling you which bit it is :-)

Labour weekend, and I’m not in Adelaide

Only two weeks until my final exam, so the other day I worked out a study plan. For this weekend, the plan reads “Saturday, “to be” verbs and reflexives; Sunday, simple past, future and conditional tenses; Monday, subjunctive mood”. Guess how much of that I’ve covered so far?

It’s not entirely my fault, I did have distractions. Some of them I knew about in advance, and some I should have anticipated, but Mum ringing on Saturday morning to say she and Stepfather were in Christchurch for the day and would we like to have lunch with her was completely unexpected.

Half an hour later they picked MrPloppy and I up. First we made a detour to Hands, so I could pick up some cotton for my new cross-stitch project (I couldn’t find the kind I needed in town the other day), and so Mum could look for scrapbooking supplies, and then Stepfather dropped us at Browsers cafe in Riccarton and headed off to his meeting (which was the reason they were in Christchurch). We had a nice leisurely lunch, and then decided to wander down to another scrapbooking shop I knew (coming from a small town, Mum doesn’t get to shop for craft supplies very often, so wanted to make the most of being in Christchurch!). On the way, we passed the upmarket branch of St Christopher’s, so dropped in to browse the books. I restrained myself to just a couple of purchases, but I did find an audio book of poetry (for only $10!), which will be a good one for listening to while I’m cross-stitching.

Of course, having visted one branch of St Christopher’s, we had to tell Mum about the famous 20c table at the other branch. So that was our next stop after the scrapbooking place. By this time we were far enough down Riccarton Road that it wasn’t worth catching a but down to the end (where the bookshop is), so we kept walking. About now, I should point out for the benefit of non-Christchurch readers that Riccarton Road is quite long – a bit over 3 km, I think. And the cafe we’d started at was near the mall, which is about half way along, which means we’d already walked half its length the time we got to the bookshop. I’d just like you to keep that in mind.

At the bookshop, I headed for the 20c table and stocked up on books with titles suitable for themed releases, concentrating mostly on Christmas (we’ll probably do the Christmas book tree again somewhere, so I need to start collecting suitable books) and weddings (we’ve already decided to do a mass release for awhina‘s wedding, and again, it’s never to early to start collecting books for a big themed release). Mum and MrPloppy found a few books too, so we were laden down with heavy bags by the time we left the shop.

I mentioned I’d seen some scrapbooking supplies in Whitcoulls, so we headed back to the mall (by bus this time). After Whitcoulls, we’d all had our fill of shopping, so we decided to go back to Browsers for afternoon tea (and to release a couple of books I’d forgotten to release earlier: Cape Fear by John D MacDonald and The Pigman by Paul Zindel) and then head home. Mum said the motel they were staying at was near by, so MrPloppy and I said we’d walk back there with her, and then catch a bus home. She couldn’t remember the name of the motel, but remembered what it looked like, and knew it was just past the mall, so we started walking.

Now I should also point out that there are a lot of motels on Riccarton Road. There are stretches of it that seem to have nothing but motels. I should also point out that when someone else is driving, Mum isn’t great at paying attention to where they are going. So it shouldn’t have been a surprise to me that when we got to the cluster of motels that could reasonably be described as “just past the mall”, it wasn’t one of them. But Mum was still convinced it was near the mall, so we kept walking. And walking. And walking. Every time we saw another motel sign we thought this one must be the one, but no, she didn’t recognise any of them (we did try to ring Stepfather and ask where the motel was, but he was still in his meeting, so had his phone switched off). At last, just two blocks before Church Corner (which is where Riccarton Road ends), she finally spotted the motel.

So let me just recap that. We started in the middle, walked to one end of the road, took a bus back to the middle and then walked nearly to the other end of the road, this time carrying heavy bags of books!



By the time we eventually got home, I only had a couple of hours to rest my feet and grab some dinner before I had to go out again, this time to a games evening (I really need to start coming up with a naming convention for non-Bookcrossing friends, who don’t have screennames I can use in lieu of their real names. Initials get too confusing, and I don’t like to make up nicknames for people in case they ever read this and get offended by the name I’ve chosen for them. I suppose there’s no real reason why I can’t just use their first names, but it feels like I’m breaching their privacy. I’ll have to think about this, I think…) at what I’ll have to call for now “one of the Chick Flicks women’s house”. The gwilks were going too, so gave me a lift over there, and I was able to give gwilk a couple of books I’d set aside for him: the second volume of Legends, and The Last Hero by Terry Pratchett.

A lot of the usual games evening crowd were away for the long weekend, so there were only six of us – the hosts, their neighbour, the gwilks and I – but we had a fun evening nonetheless. The gwilks had taken advantage of the Whitcoulls sale to buy some new games, so we tried several of them out, as well as playing some old favourites. It was a late night, though – we didn’t finish until well after midnight.



So that was Saturday gone, with no study done. Strangely enough, on Sunday morning I didn’t feel like getting up too early, and when I did get up most of the morning was taken up with preparing books for the lunchtime meetup, making sure all were properly labelled and ready to be released.

We were back at Browsers again for the meetup, which, with most Christchurch bookcrossers being away for the long weekend (or the BC-AUS convention – lucky lytteltonwitch), was dominated by out of town bookcrossers – rarsberry was up for the weekend, as was alkaline-kiwi, and Australian bookcrosser sally906 was passing through Christchurch at the end of her travels around NZ. I thought for a while that MrPloppy and I would be the only locals there, but TheLetterB turned up too. So it was a good sized meetup, and because of all the visitors, lots of books were changing hands (fresh blood, I mean, books!)

I picked up The Wise Woman by Philippa Gregory, Big Fish by Daniel Wallace, and A Special Relationship by Douglas Kennedy, and passed on A Book of Hours by Tom Tolley, Blade Runner 2: The Edge of Human by KW Jeter, Royal Flash by George Fraser, Waiting for Goldaming by Robert Rankin, Cat by Freya North, Losing Face by Kathy Torpie, and I, Cyborg by Kevin Warwick. At the end of the meetup there were still a few books left on the table, so I said I’d take them home and take them back to the next meetup to see if anyone else wants them: Black Out by John Lawton, After Dark by Jayne Castle, Ultra by Tim Sebastian, and Morrigan’s Cross by Nora Roberts.



I had intended that after the meetup I’d spend the rest of the afternoon studying, but by the time I got home the lack of sleep the night before had caught up with me, so I couldn’t concentrate. So I’m afraid I instead blobbed in front of a DVD for the rest of the afternoon. Cross Sunday off my study plan…

And today? Well, I slept incredibly late, and since then have been reading the Bookcrossing forums and various blogs to catch up on the excitement I missed in Adelaide, and now half the day is gone. And now MrPloppy has just said he’s going to watch a movie he taped last night, so I’ll probably end up being tempted by that…

Ah, who cares, I’ve still got two weeks… (remind me I said that when I fail my exam, won’t you?) :-)



Currently reading: Nether Regions by Sue Gough

Nor’wester

Christchurch is notorious for its nor’westers. The prevailing winds in NZ are from the west anyway, but the geography of the South Island conspires to intensify the wind in Canterbury. What happens apparently is that warm air from Australia travels across the Tasman on the prevailing westerly winds, picking up moisture as it goes. When all that warm moist air reaches NZ, it encounters the barrier of Southern Alps, causing it to dump all the moisture onto the West Coast (hence all the rain they get over there). The now dry air continues up over the Alps, then down onto the Canterbury plains, picking up speed as it goes (partly from the fact that it’s not being slowed down by all that heavy water now, and partly just because the dropping down off the mountains speeds it up). Travelling across the sun-warmed plains it gets even hotter, and hence faster. So by the time it reaches the east coast and Christchurch, it’s hot, dry, and very very fierce.

The upshot of all that science is that we spend the summer being battered by the wind, and irritated by the dry, dusty, static-y atmosphere. There’s a serious nor’wester blowing today, so not only do I look like I’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards (guess who walked to work in the wind today and forgot to bring a comb to work with her), but I’ve got serious hayfever from the dust (even after taking antihistamines I’m still sneezing and have red eyes), and thanks to the wonderful cheap nylon carpet in my office every time I take a couple of steps I build up enough charge to get a shock off the filing cabinets (I’ve also managed to zap the computer badly enough to shut it down, just by touching one of the USB ports!).

I can’t believe a month ago I was actually looking forward to summer…



In the end, only one of our potential visitors actually turned up on Saturday night: T, a friend of MrPloppy‘s. We had a nice evening anyway, and ended up playing 3-person Pictionary with great hilarity all round (3-person Pictionary is a variation we came up with when Fuzzle was flatting with us and we went through a phase of playing Pictionary all the time, but often didn’t have a fourth person to make up two proper Pictionary teams. So we came up with the idea of having 3 teams of 2, with each person being on two teams (i.e. with players A, B, and C, the teams are A and B, B and C, and A and C). The “All Play” rule doesn’t work, of course, but otherwise you can play as normal. The best bit is that you’ve got a 2 in 3 chance of being on a winning team! :-) ).

A fun night, anyway, and we told T we’d invite her back next time we have a proper games evening, so she can get to play Pictionary with the right number of people.



On Tuesday night we went to see meerkitten singing in the Christchurch Schools’ Music Festival. It wasn’t as good as last year, unfortunately – I didn’t think the selection of songs and music was as appropriate to the children’s voices or skill level, and the orchestra weren’t nearly as good (for a start, several of the instruments were so badly out of tune that even I could hear it – they didn’t properly tune up on stage this year (presumably to save time, because last year they ran badly over time) and it showed). But there were still some good bits, and when you consider the age of the children (8-12), even the bad bits were pretty impressive.



I had the day off work yesterday. MrPloppy had an appointment that he wanted me to come along to, so rather than take a couple of hours out of the middle of the day again I decided to just use up one of my last few days of leave for the year and take the whole day off. It was good, because we were able to get a few things done in town before and after his appointment: send a sympathy card to my stepmother (whose mother died on Saturday), get my Cat Dancing print framed, have a look for the threads I need for my next cross-stitch project (no, the Santa isn’t finished yet, but I’ve got a bit side-tracked by an idea for my next project), take advantage of Whitcoull’s sale to buy a new boardgame (Carcasonne) for our next games evening, and get a few other bits and pieces that have been on the “must get round to getting…” list for a while.



Currently reading: I, Cyborg by Kevin Warwick

I survived!

I survived my oral!!! As you probably noticed, I was getting a bit stressed about it, and was even contemplating just not turning up for the test and forgoing the 10% of my final grade it counts for. But then the other day my tutor let slip that the lecturer who was examining us doesn’t believe in failing people in orals, and that basically if we turned up and said anything at all comprehensible, we were guaranteed at least 5/10. So I thought I’d turn up, not worry about whether I was speaking correctly, but just try and say *something*, and get my 5% (which could make the difference between a B+ and an A- for my final grade, and I really would like to stay in the A range if I possibly can).

And as a result, I was much more relaxed going into the test than I was last semester, so I didn’t go totally blank, and when I did make mistakes (which of course I did – the worst was when I tried to say that because MrPloppy doesn’t have a job, I support him, but realised when the lecturer looked puzzled and asked “Is that really what you meant to say?” that instead of using the verb mantener (“to support”), I’d used soportar, which means “to put up with”!), I didn’t let them phase me, I just corrected them and carried on. So although I probably still didn’t do very well (I won’t know my actual mark until next week sometime), at least I didn’t come out feeling sick like I did last time – it actually wasn’t that bad an experience at all.

And when I think about it, who cares if I made hundreds of mistakes. I had a 15 minute conversation in Spanish, and mostly made myself understood! I hadn’t thought about it that way before – I can communicate in another language!!! That’s a very exciting thought. So I don’t really care what mark I get for it – I’m just proud of myself for managing that.

I’m still NEVER doing another language paper, though! :-)



Of course, I’ve still got the final exam to sit, but that’s three weeks away, so I’m having a nice lazy weekend this weekend, with absolutely no studying. I need to give my brain a break for a while.

I did spend the morning helping MrPloppy to clean the house (we might be having visitors tonight – for various complicated reasons we’re not sure whether they’re coming or not), and I’ll probably spend some of this afternoon baking something to give them for supper, but after a couple of weeks of spending every spare moment studying, even doing housework feels like a relaxing change. And I fully intend to dedicate at least part of this afternoon to sitting under a tree with a book. And tomorrow I might do some cross-stitch and listen to that audiobook I got out of the library, or play a game on the computer, or watch a movie… or maybe the tree and the book will call again. Whatever I do, it’s guaranteed to be pleasantly lazy :-)



Currently reading: I, Cyborg by Kevin Warwick

Signs of Spring

Forget daffodils and blossom, the real sign of the change in the seasons is that the supply flights to Antarctica have started up again.

I know this because we live quite near the airport, and the big Starlifter they fly down to the ice in has very loud engines, which need to be warmed up before they take off. And for some reason (I assume so they arrive down there at a convenient time of day), they leave here in the middle of the night. So a couple of times a week we get woken up by the rumbling of the engines being warmed up on the runway (which seems to take forever – I think it’s actually only about half an hour, but that’s a long time at that time of night!), and then just when you’re getting used to that noise, there’s the even louder rumble of it actually taking off.

Of course, within a month or so we’ll be so used to it again we won’t even hear it any more, but for those first few take-offs of the summer, it makes for some interrupted sleeps.



For Lytteltonwitch

It took me a bit to click what the books meant too – I jokingly said something like “are these our invitations?” (thinking that she’d just brought the books along to tease us, in response to those similarly-titled books you gave her), and she flashed the ring! (which is in the shape of an octagon, of course :-) (for the benefit of those who weren’t there, the first time awhina and the Invercargillite met in person was in the Octagon in Dunedin))

Apparently they wanted to tell us at the weekend – that was why they invited us out for lunch. They were most put out when we both turned them down and spoilt their plans for a big surprise!!!

Oh, and he’s moving up here (but you probably guessed that!)

So, time to start properly searching TradeMe for that item we were talking about. And MrPloppy and I have come up with another potentially brilliant plan, but I’ll tell you about it when you get back from Oz (it involves the three of us making fools of ourselves in public, but you’d be up for that, wouldn’t you? ;-))

Photo of the books (and the sparkly)

Yes, the oblique hint in last night’s entry *did* indicate that awhina and the Invercargillite are engaged. I was sent home from the meetup with instructions that I wasn’t to tell lytteltonwitch directly, but instead I had to list the books awhina had brought in my diary, and see if lytteltonwitch guessed when she read the titles :-)

They’re getting married in April, and almost the first thing awhina said to me was “No, you’re not going to be bridesmaids!” (lytteltonwitch and I have been teasing her for months, saying we were looking forward to wearing pink frilly dresses…)

Anyway, here’s the photo Marcie130 took of awhina’s books, with ever so casually placed hand to show off the sparkly.

We’re already planning a mass themed release for the big day, of course.



Currently reading: Cat by Freya North