Green Fingers

Feel a little refreshed after a short break from blogging. Have continued working out in the gym which I will post about shortly with photos.

To work my way back into blogging I thought I'd start with a mainly photo / caption post.

A couple of weekends ago Lea and I went to a local gardening shop where we purchased 2 matching terracotta pots and some flowers to grow, in preparation for our move in 8 weeks.

Isn't this exciting! Inspired by Ron's blog a couple of months ago.

Beaming with anticipation

Pots are ready! Dig those slippers...kindly leant by Lea...far more stylish than boots!

Into the potting mix go what we think are pansies. Please tell us if we're wrong!

Into the potting mix go what we think are pansies. Please tell us if we're wrong!

Now for the daffodils

Aren't they fine bulbs

Placing carefully sufficient distance.

Putting in the last daffodils

Job completed...now just need to wait for daffodils to surface.

Child Cancer Foundation

Not a lot of interest has happened recently. I've been going to the gym each day and been doing my weights, exercycling and yesterday tried out the rowing machine. I rowed 3,200 metres or 2 miles in 15 minutes...I was going for it. The hip and groin are improving and I'm off for another blood test for my clot which seems to be on track according to recent tests.

On Saturday Lea, Bianca, Caitlyn and I are going to a fun day out with Camp Quality, a subsidiary of the Child Cancer Foundation. In the evening we have tickets for watching my favourite rugby league team, the Warriors.

With this in mind I thought back to a wonderful opportunity I was given at the end of 2011. Some of you might know that Bianca suffered from Leukemia at the age of 4 and Lea has been involved with CCF since. Lea asked me to join her in her visit to Wellington Hospital and thought I might perform some of my songs. Followers from my last blog might remember this report.

In October 2011 Lea, Bianca and myself dressed up and visited Wellington Children's Hospital. Lea had us all organised in fairy and pirate costumes. I was the pirate in case you're wondering.


We visited Ward 18 armed with goodies and guitar and entertained some kids in the common area. My first song was You're Not Eating Me that accompanies my picture book, which you can see and hear below.

After a few more songs we were asked to go to the paediatric oncology daystay area. There one of the little oncology patients was getting some of her treatment. The paediatric oncology daystay area is part of ward 18.

Bianca had a few years ago been in Ward 18 and was today wearing her beads of courage. The beads represented the many and varied treatments she'd had to fight her leukemia. I felt priveleged to be there to give some pleasure to the young children who were going through a lot of pain and discomfort.

Lea gave out some copies of my book and Bianca gave out stickers and balloons.

Here are some photos of our visit.



At the moment I am struggling for blogging motivation and finding it hard to keep up with making comments. I'll try and get around my regulars today but feel it might be best to take a short Time Out. Don't expect it to be long, possibly only a few days as I really do enjoy following the people who have taken an interest in my life experiences and day by day ramblings.

London

Visiting my brother recently brought back fond memories of our time in London. Vincent and I were in London together for 2 and a half years and had some wonderful experiences.

Here is a trip down memory lane! Sorry about some of the quality but they are taken with my digital camera from prints!

Outside Rank Video where Vincent and I worked for over a year. We're not in the photo!

I worked as a Quality Contoller often working the night shift.

Brixton was our first place of abode.

 

Vincent outside Queens Park flat

Vincent and I in Kent where we were hop picking

We both really enjoyed London with it's history, entertainment and old traditional pubs. We met some colourful characters and I was fortunate to form some close friendships with people in my running club.

As a side-line as many of you are dying to know...OUR MOUSE IS DECEASED.

Full report with photo coming soon!

I wasn't always a teacher Part 2

Murphy's Law! Having done a post where I talked about my experiences in a house with a plague of mice I have an encounter in our kitchen this morning. Yesterday I thought I saw a dark shadow move across the kitchen but thought maybe it was just my imagination. But it is now official...we have a mouse in the house! Hopefully he / she does not have a family that has also taken up residence.

On a cheerier note for me I have joined a gym...Marion would be so proud! I have resisted for many years but made my first appearance in 54 years on Friday but that's another story.

Back to the subject of this post. I was delighted to get so many comments on Part 1 of my work experiences and to read about everyone else's work experiences. We have lived colourful lives. My mice tails / tales seemed to create a lot of interest. It was truly a creepy crawly time for me and probably has added to my disgust for these creatures.

Without further ado here is part 2:-

When I left New Zealand in 1984 at the age of 24 I left with feelings of excitement but also uncertainty. I remember vividly the drive from Dunedin to the Airport with my grandmother in the back seat with me. We were both a bit upset because my grandmother was 80 and we were very close. There was a sense of maybe this being our last time together. As it turned out that was the case. On the plane I was somewhat anxious and was wondering what the future had in store.

I had a one way ticket to San Francisco with no onward journey. I had US$1500 and the plan was to travel across America finishing in New York from where I would fly to London. I took a 3 day excursion with the Green Tortoise Bus Company to Yosemite. We slept on the bus which was a new experience. Quite comfortable as the bus had fold out beds. An incredible place of remarkable beauty that I was fortunate enough to revisit with my family a few years ago.

During my time travelling in America I met some wonderful people who put me up and took me places.

I had some scary moments such as going for a run in Los Angeles having left all my valuables at a person's house I had only recently met. In horror after a 20 minute run I realised I was completely lost without an address. Thankfully after a while the lady I was staying with drove her car around the neighbourhood and rescued me.

I lived with a father and daughter in Atlanta for a short time. We were the only white people in the street which was quite weird for me coming from a place like Dunedin. I had had an extremely sheltered life to this point. Bus journeys into the city were interesting. I met a man who owned a red corvette who drove me around and introduced me to his family and running friends.

My longest stay was in Little Rock, Arkanas of all places. I met a couple who owned a health store called Beans, Grains and Things. We shared an interest in alternative music such as Joy Division. They were most friendly and kiwis were an unknown breed to them. In fact few knew where New Zealand was and some thought it was attached to Australia.  In Little Rock I was looked upon as a novelty item. The locals loved my accent and I always had a captive audience. I found I didn't have to pay for many drinks.

As much as I loved being in America all good things must come to an end. Also money was running out and I missed some basic things like watching cricket and eating Fish and Chips out of newspaper.

Just before leaving New York a rifle shot passed me into a shop window near Time Square. A frightening experience! Finally I got on the plane and headed for London. My brother, Vincent was with me in America and London. The photo below was where we lived in Queens Park, London. Just a taste of things to come!

I wasn't always a teacher Part 1

I have been struggling lately with motivation, energy and time and therefore have let blogging slip a little.

I know it's not supposed to be an onerous occupation and ever since Lea introduced me to the possibilities of blogging I've been hooked. I really enjoy sharing my passions, experinces, joys, celebrations and sometimes traumas that hit us all. I have loved meeting all the wonderful people around the world, finding out about them and hearing theur stories. Recently I have been fortunate to gain a number of new readers who comment so positively and encouragingly to my thoughts and feelings. I have been lucky to have a few readers who have been following me since the very beginning.

With more followers comes more responsibility. As I'm not someone who likes to take and not back I have felt some frustration at not being able to do blogging justice. We all get busy but the blogging world only survives because we take the time to respond and show we care. I find it special to be involved in other people's lives. A heart-felt sorry to those followers who I haven't got to recently.

With that big build up I'm now going to revisit an old post to go alongside this apologetic post. It continues a theme I started 2 weeks ago on Getting To Know You.

I know several of my readers are or were teachers so this post might appeal to them. Let's face it we've all had school day experiences good and bad and this post helps explain why I'm a teacher and the significance teaching has in my life. Good often comes from bad and I believe my poor education makes me a better teacher. Here is my story!


Here is a photo of my official teacher registration presentation in Porirua while working at Waitangirua Intermediate.

Thankyou very much!

 

I wasn't always a teacher [Part 1]

How I became a teacher was more luck than good management. More details at a later date.

On leaving school I trained to be a Catholic Priest for 2 years in Christchurch. However at the tender age of 19 realised that there was so much I hadn't experienced of life and decided I needed to do some exploring. Without giving my life story I'd like to mention about my early work history and some light hearted moments.

Usual church group but not usual dress attire [that's me lying down]

Having left the Seminary I looked after delinquent boys under the guidance of a Brother who couldn't believe I could sleep so much. It was a rundown house we lived in and at night the mice came out to play. I remember my feelings of horror when the lounge would come alive with up to 15 mice. Frankly I was quite relieved after 6 months when the Brother suggested I look for other employment.

I stayed in Christchurch for the next 2 years working for Ballantynes Department Store [famous for their fire in the 1930's] in their office in Cashel St. It seems hard to believe that I worked in an area that recently was devastated by the disastrous eathquake of February 2011.

Now in my early 20's I thought I would go back to my home town of Dunedin. I moved in with mum and dad and was fortunate to get a job with Cadburys. I started out as a Storeman to my dad's disappointment. He felt 5 years of College was wasted doing labouring work. Some interesting characters! One I worked with took great pleasure daily winding me up with comments such as 'you're lucky you weren't born a dwarf' [reference to my small stature] and regularly referred to me as a Temporary New Zealander [due to my owning a motorbike]. After a year in the store I moved into the Cadbury Office to the delight of my dad. I delivered mail around the factory and was able to sample some of the wares as I proceeded on my rounds. In those days I was extremely popular with my running buddies who purchased chocolate bars at about 10 cents each.

In my mid 20's I knew there was a big world out there and pursued my dreams to travel America and Britain.

Due to the length of this blog and the reality that I had far too many exciting and interesting times on my 3 year O.E to include here I will sign off. I will reflect on some of the most memorable experiences in preparation for my next entry.

My Dad

As promised I am doing a post about my dad and why he is special to me. A small few of my readers will already know some of this information.

In April 2011 my family had got together to celebrate dad's 80th birthday. It was a special celebration made all the more memorable because only 2 years previously he'd had a life threatening heart problem and subsequent critical operation. It had been a long recuperation for him but he is now looking better than ever. Aware that time is precious triggered my decision to spend more time with my dad last Christmas.

My dad and I have had a special relationship since I was little that evolved around our Catholic faith and sporting interests.

I was brought up as a Catholic and religion played a big part in my early life leading up to my entering the Seminary to train as a Catholic Priest. My mum and dad were extremely proud of their oldest boy pursuing this calling. Sadly for them I only lasted 2 years and branched out into the big bad world.

When I was growing up my dad and I did a lot together in the sporting arena with competition fierce. We both have a highly competitive streak which occasionally could get a bit nasty. My fondest memories are having dad see me score a try in rugby when I was about 10. We also for many years played regular squash games with honours pretty even.

The sporting activity that I remember best are the early morning golf outings. Through my College years dad would get me up at 5:30 once or twice a week and we would go to Chisholm Park, our favourite golf course and play 9 holes. Sadly no matter how often I played my performance never improved and dad always had the edge.

On leaving school the activity that dad and I have enjoyed most together is going to the local pub, having a beer and shooting some pool.

This now brings me back to the present. My dad now lives at the Little Sisters of the Poor as he is well looked after there. He runs the poor sisters ragged sometimes and he is the life and soul of the Home. Although he has become a little more frail he is as sharp as a tack when he gets on the pool table. Even now when we play I know I have to be on my best form to take him down. As dad and I often say May the Best Man Win and if he doesn't I'm sure he will come up with a hard luck story or equally good excuse.

Is your dad still alive? Do you have special memories? What special activities did you or do you do still with your dad?

Families

I'm sure most of you would agree that our families are really important to us!

I grew up with 4 brothers and sisters and keep regular contact although we are spread out. Getting all together on special occasions is really precious especially as the years go by. Having had what might be called a tumultuous start to life has created a strong bond between us. Dad had been our rock and will get some extra plugs in this and future posts!

Here is a picture taken on one of those rare occasions when we all managed to assemble at the one place, including my sister, Margaret in Australia. It was taken New Year's Eve at my brother, Vincent's place in Nelson which I posted on recently.

From Left-Dad, Bernard, Catherine, Margaret, Vincent and myself

 ]

With my sisters Margaret and Catherine

Dad's 70th
In April twelve years ago our family were preparing to congregate from around New Zealand and Australia and descend upon Dunedin! We were coming together to celebrate dad's 70th! The night before I left Wellington to fly down my next door neighbour asked if I had written a song for my dad for the occasion. I replied that I hadn't but since time was of the essence, promptly sat down and worked on it.
After about 30 minutes of reflecting and writing my poetic thoughts about what dad meant to me and the family, I excitedly approached the piano. After about another 30 minutes I had a tune and played it through a number of times. Feeling rather pleased with myself I rested easy in preparation for the trip hoping I had something special to present to dad!

On arriving in Dunedin and meeting up with my brothers and sisters I was delighted with their enthusiasm for my song. We practised it for several days and on the Saturday night at the conclusion of the celebrations, we all sang it for him as a special birthday surprise. It was quite an emotional performance that we proudly honoured him with. 

 
Click below to listen to my song dedicated to my dad called Loving Heart! Some of you have heard it before.