I really should not laugh, but I showered a friend in pomegranate seeds today...

My lovely friend Nicky Huxford, who is more passionate about food than anyone else I know and who loves nothing more than to provide treats for other people, today showed me a little bowl of pomegranate seeds she had lovingly saved from a fresh pomegranate.  She invited me to taste one and was about to tell me the plans she had for the seeds when my unreliable and unpredictable left hand smacked the underside of her bowl, sending the blood-coloured, sticky little seeds flying around the kitchen.

It must have appeared as though I was just being naughty. So horrified was I, that I even offered to rinse them!!  She declined, as you do.  Then, bless her, she handed me a box of savoury home-made nibbles - crostini, oatcakes, cheese sticks and cheese choux puffs. 

I never did find out exactly what a clever cook does with pomegranate seeds.  If I find out, I'll let you know.

And this song from Dave Dobbyn, because it is one of my favourite songs, ever.
"Beside You"

"...and now I'm running here beside you
and now I'm running here beside you
this is for the traveller on a blinding desert road
may good fortune smile upon you
and may love be your only load
and this is for the only one who could quell my burning rage
and anyone who's been a broken man
and anyone seen better days
baby I'm beside you
and now I'm running here, beside you..."

Did what I think lots of people probably did aorund NZ today....held an early Chiristmas gathering.  'My side', the Barrells, gathered for brunch in Amberley today.
We had ham-filled croissants, filled rolls, trifle, fresh fruit, mince pies, and a lovely Jaffa cake delivered from Janine, next door.  We repayed her by opening the windows and inviting everyone to have a turn at Singstar.
Niece Rach brought along her magnificent Halloween werewolf costume, which naughty nephew Jason put on, then leered over the fence at a young neighbour who was gently rocking on her swing. Bit like the Anti-Santa. I reject any suggestion that it was my idea.

I hear from a friend tonight that a member of her family removed her socks and placed them on the dinner table.

I will faithfully collect and record on here any of those moments of family folklore, for posterity.  Send me the word.  Christmas is ripe for such things.

And thinking of family, one of my enduring memories of childhood (scarred, see?) was of my three elder (late teenage) sisters, Marnie, Trisha and Mary, all sitting little me on a kitchen chair, standing in front of me, and using their beautiful singing voices and much pathos to render me a blubbing fool.  And their song of choice?

A dragon lives forever
But not so little boys
Painted wings and giant strings
Make way for other toys.
One grey night it happened,
Jackie Paper came no more
And Puff that mighty dragon,
He ceased his fearless roar.

His head was bent in sorrow,
Green scales fell like rain,
Puff no longer went to play,
Along the cherry lane.
Without his life-long friend,
Puff could not be brave,
So Puff that mighty dragon sadly
Slipped into his cave. Oh!

Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And froliced in the autumn mist
In a land called Honali,
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And froliced in the autumn mist
In a land called Honali...

Puff the Magic Dragon, sob!!

2am.

Indigestion
(and I could wax lyrical about the healthful blackcurrant and apple pie, using antioxidant-filled, organic blackcurrents fresh from the garden but when you douse it in custard, cream and ice-cream and scoff two servings, you are hanging an axe over its health foood status!)

New pillowcase
(the zoo which is missing its black grizzly bear should call - according to my pillowcase, a moulting bear is slipping into bed with me and attempting to choke me with awfulness as I sleep.)

"Sleep in Heavenly Peace,
Sleep in heavenly peace."

On Facebook last night by the light of dozens of golden Christmas lights.  My Amberley home now has a small 'real' tree decorated with white doves and silver balls, and a cone-shaped golden tree made of vine prunings and studded with golden lights.  Outside is a wire-coated plant stand intertwined with lights.  Darn, it's pretty.  Presents are already positioned beneath the trees.  A wee tally-up revealed, alarmingly, that I was not quite as far along with the gift-purchasing as I had thought. 
I seem to have become middle-aged overnight (at 43, I suppose that is technically middle-aged but oddly, I've always felt myself to be 28) but my prolific vegetable garden has become my pride and joy.  I know most of you will stop reading now, but my glasshouse is going to throw up a bumper crop of large and cherry tomatoes, capsicum and chillis (Patsy, you'll have to come and share a hot curry with us!).   Passionfruit vines are in there, too.
Outside, cabbages, lettuces, peas, snow peas, celery, beetroot, cauli, courgettes, scallopini, potatoes, broad beans, yellow and green beans.  Mint, coriander, sage and thyme.  Rhubarb, blackcurrants, peacherine, nectarine, lemons, black boy peaches, olives, apple, yellow peaches, apricots (but just three this year!).
Less excited by my lawn, which grows furiously, thanks to the higher rainfall than Hawarden (though I think everywhere has higher rainfall than Hawarden/Waikari).
So that's that.  My little Amberley haven, in words.  And I have failed to mention (or action) the basket full of years of photographs which need to find their way into an album.  But that is more of a winter job, surely?

And I know lots of you love this song, the beautiful Fix You from Coldplay.

"lights will guide you home
and ignite your bones
and I will try to fix you.

Tears stream, down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace"

Also from Coldplay, X and Y which seems to be speaking to me!:
"Trying hard to speak
and fighting with my weak hand
Driven to distraction
it's all part of the plan.
When something is broken
and you try to fix it
Trying to repair it,
any way you can..."

Just one further treatment of radiotherapy, tomorrow! Yay!  I only had 10 treatments scheduled for the head, though I guess that is standard brain-frying schedule because I am beginning to get radiation burns and there's a few hairs that don't belong to the cats on my pillowcase...more than anyone wanted to know?
I have been told that if I lose my hair there may be a nice central strip that won't grow hair properly again, like a reverse mohawk!!  Always loving new opportunities to embarrass my teen!
Last night we took the children to a beautiful event in the Hawarden Hall, a novel fundraising event by a church where community organisations and talented individuals were invited to display a decorated Christmas tree.  Children were free and adults $5.  Fantastic turnout, lots to see and admire.  There was also a Santa grotto, train set, food and drinks......hope it grows in future years!
However, it did serve as a reminder that it is high time the Bookers addressed the Tree question.  John and girls plan The Big Cut this afternoon, while I guess I will do the long and involved find-the-bucket-and-fill-it-with-bricks thing.  Then it needs to be decorated pronto, with visitors arriving for dinner tonight.
Amberley will become the House of Faux Tree, which never smells as good but has obvious benefits. 
Wanting to work a little smarter this year....less of the strings of lights strung laboriously around bushes and windows, more of the carols on the stereo, bunches of lilies, trotting out ALL the decorations....still need some pretty lights through, eh?

"there's a light (over at the frankenstein place)
there's a light (burning in the fireplace)
theres a light, light, in the darkness of everybody's life."
Rocky Horror Picture Show

Postscript: Tree decorating session deteriorated with the discovery of mouse shit in the bauble box.

It seems my brain may officially currently be larger than the cavity it is supposed to nestle inside, which would explain not only the headaches but also earache.  I mentioned this to a nurse today, expecting her to say "oh, pish" or some equivalent, but she only said, "yep.  Goes with the territory."
Back then, onto the steroids which reduce inflammation but make me ravenous.  Lucky it's strawberry season. Lucky for the dogs and sundry other plump animals.
I looked on a screen in the radiotherapy room today and there was a photo of myself!  Apparently there is a risk of random people turning up for a dose of rays, believe it or not, so staff have to double check the person on the bed against the file photo! A nurse said it happens quite often....she reckons anxious people don't listen closely to the called names and just turn up anywhere.
Again, so many people to be grateful for again this week....friends and family who call and text, Phil and Tara Wright, my Mum and Amberley Cancer Society volunteers who are providing transport to and from hospital this week, John, Nana Mary, Nana Pat, Nicky and Ella and Jenni who are moving the girls around.  Mary Rickerby who appeared on the doorstep tonight with garden-fresh flowers and cabbage.....and for so many other treasured friends and family members who have offered their help but I have already got myself sorted, of sorts.  Please accept the heartfelt thanks of all my family for all the love and support we have received.  It has been such a bright spot in an otherwise pretty shabby few weeks.
And on that note, here's a bit of Bic Runga for ya.
"Just wanna know ya,
just wanna talk to ya,
I wanna hear about your day.
I'd never leave ya.
Never be mean to ya.
I'd always let you get your way (frankly, unlikely!!)
Something good will come our way
And maybe this good thing's gonna happen today."

Something Good, by Bic Runga.  (Copied it as it appeared in my music book.  If ya don't know it and wanna hear it, there are a couple of live versions on YouTube.  Stunning voice)

Long ago, the children came up with a name for the intuitive animals that somehow sense when the chips are down and something warm, furry and fluffy is called for...the girls dub such animals Company Director and in our homes, it always boils down to a cat.
At the farm last weekend, soft, white Alaska and former Wild Child Ranga both took on role of Company Director though Ranga was almost immediately fired from the job on account of his appalling wind.
In Amberley, retired farm dog Jess snuggles on her own sleeping bag on the floor beside Soph, while inherited elderly cat Pepsi has stepped up to the plate, literally and figuratively, and assigned himself the task of chatting to me cattily in the wee smalls. 
Pepsi came free with the house, or he probably prefers to think he was a valuable chattel for which an undisclosed sum was paid.  He has two cat doors to select from and the one he prefers at night is outstandingly noisy and very close to Claire's bed.  After smashing his way in, he howls that awful 'lonely cat' yeowl, which goes from a cry (I'll give it a crack - wowwellhell) to a question (merrowell?) if you speak back to him.
Christmas is sure a-coming....houses are putting their decorations up and in a few more days I think we can take an after-dark stroll around the streets to admire the handiwork.  I also think I may develop an eggnog habit.  With nutmeg. Oh, how I live on the edge!
"Yet with the woes of sin and strife,
The world has suffered long;
Beneath the angel-strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong;
And man, at war with man, hears not
The love-song which they bring;
Oh, hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing!"
It Came Upon the Mightnight Clear, traditional Christmas carol

Will keep this very brlief, otherwise I may begin to whinge....and I'm picking no-one wants to hear that.

But happily, no headache today, so spent a couple of happy hours watching the girls swim at the Hawarden pool.  Amazing how fast a couple of hours goes with friends, a handful of dive sticks, a ball and a water pistol.  What a fantastic asset the good old country pool is, and what a healthy gathering-place for kids.  At the Hawarden pool you can purchase a pool key for $50 which gets you in throughout daylight hours, all summer.  For a family of our size, that's about the same cost as a trip to one movie.  No comparison.

Halfway through radiotherapy treatment now, just five more 'zaps' to go.  My use of inappropriate words has cranked up a notch.....I said to a mum at the pool today, who I usually only see at the poolside throughout summer, that it would be 'nice to catch up with her at the pub this summer.'  She looked puzzled, but not enitrely against the idea.  I meant pool, honest.

Kids are watching a Friends DVD and I hear Pheobe's wonderful dedication, sung along to one single 'chord' on the guitar...
"Monica, Monica,
Have a happy Hanukah"

Day one of 10 treatments of radiotherapy and nothing happened except a headache, sigh.  No, not strictly true.  Had a lovely time meeting friends....drove in with Hannah and Libby, enjoyed watching them select some spectacularly awful outfits at Savemart for a Southland lilac-themed party.  Hannah's sack-dress with contrasting belt will surely turn heads, while Libby's choice of a lilac snow-suit (very tight and frankly, her shoes should throw a party of their own and invite the orange-cuffed trousers down) will be wonderfully hot and scratchy on the flight south. 
Met up with the lovely Neroli Williams for a coffee, the equally divine Jo Bennett for lunch, and capped off the day with a convivial coffee with sister Marnie in Ballantynes, no less. Whinged throughout that drink, as you only can with family.  Thanks, Marnie.  Feel better now!
Then took a gift card John's Mum Mary gave me for my birthday and had a wonderful treat selecting from the Bally's cook shop.  Got a microplane for grating stuff and a rolling pin (which rolls stuff much better than the tin of creamed corn I had been using!)
Bussed to Merivale Mall where I slummed it in Fresh Choice (!) and met up with Nicky Lotz and her children, who kindly returned me to Amberley.
In the middle of all that I got pinned to a treatment table by the head...face pushed against a custom-made, plastic mesh mask. Apparently I will get to take that mask home as a memento.  Never again will I begrudge paying taxes.
Radiotherapy takes only a few minutes and is painless.  The effects are culmulative, so I'm told to expect extreme fatigue by the end of the treatments, as well as headaches, short term memory...something...and a sore, red scalp. Maybe hair loss, too.  Ah, well.
And my song of the day, I Only Want to Say, from the Andrew Lloyd Webber/Tim Rice musical Jesus Christ Superstar:
"I only want to say,
If there is a way
Take this cup away from me
For I don't want to taste its poison
Feel it burn me

I have changed
I'm not a sure as when we started
Then I was inspired
Now I'm sad and tired
Listen surely I've exceeded expectations
Tried for three years, seems like thirty
Could you ask as much from
Any other man?"

Well, Bono has all the riches in the world except...

...the blown kisses and promises of snogs from lots of friends that I dutifully carried north with me on my birthday.  Had I got close, I promise, I'd not have thought of myself at all, and I would have listed you all by name and told him how much we all admire him and his tight leather pants.
The concert, for which I owe thanks to my very generous older brother David, was fabulous.  Lots of the good old songs, an astonishing stage, loads of energy, and just good old fashioned showmanship without too many gimmicks.  They played for two solid hours which, while I hate to be ageist (though you can see what's coming, can't you?) would be a good effort from rock stars of half their age.
A nice little moment (those little moments of trivia I am prone to collecting) happened on the train on the way back to central Auckland after the concert....
The carriage was crowded, the train pulled into a station, the doors opened, and a drunk guy stumbled out of the carriage and onto the platform.
"Neil!" calls his friend from deep within the crush.  "Come back, mate!  This isn't our stop!  Maaate,  get back on, quick!"
The concert-goers join in, with shrieks of "Neil!! Neil!! Come back, Neil!"  Neil staggers away, the doors close, and the train moves off.  And one passenger takes things just a little far. I hate to assume, but I think that passenger may have been an Aucklander.  "Bet Neil's from the South."
Elegantly, an older woman addresses the carrriage in general.  She was someone I'd like to have shared a drink with.
"We are stuck in here in this stinking carriage and Neil's in the fresh air on the platform.  And YOU mocked HIM."
Nice.
Last night, we joined Amberley School group at Waipara Springs for a staff farewell/Xmas function and what a lovely evening.  Food and company were wonderful, though because I am naughty, my personal highlight was a speech which suggested - no, said - the departing male teacher had "touched many students in a special way."  A sparkling gem among clangers.  But truly, the lovely Alastair Campbell has an enthusiasm and rapport with children I admire hugely.  An entirely appropriate rapport!
Today, lunch with friends at Pukeko Junction cafe.  Sausagey, mushroomy pasta with a lemon yoghurt cake chaser.  Took the yoghurt option with dessert in a sadly misguided nod to diabetes! 
Have to let you know, too, that the lovely Hannah has done a stunning job of the Boys of Glenmark calendar, now on sale for $20 through the club (or contact me and I'll find you one).  As Chief Willy Watcher (ie, I watched for stray willy so she could concentrate on getting a nicely framed shot) on some of the missions I can attest to her professionalism and the 'tastefulness' of the calendar for those of us with kids.  Hannah is becoming quite accustomed to her subjects getting their kit off, as she has a private studio at her Amberley home and does a lot of pregnany photos.
I think I will end my blogs with a line from a song, just so you can be driven crazy with lyrics running through your heads.
You won't know this one, probably, it's off the new James Blunt album, Some Kind of Trouble.
"Hard these days to get my message through
If time is all I have, I'll waste it all on you
Each day, I'll turn it back, it's what the broken-hearted do.
I'm tired of talking to an empty space. Of silences keeping me awake.
When you marry, and you look around, I'll be somewhere in that crowd."

"If Time is All I Have" by James Blunt.

Failed start at blogging.

Oh good on me, I'll bet you're glad you popped in here to say what I am wittering about.  Not entitled to 'blog' via Facebook until I have a 'following' on Blogspot, and seeing I have failed to actually blog on here and have instead had to post on my non-blog, it's a pretty inauspicious start.  Fortunately I had very little to say today anyway though usefully, I did sweep the footpath! That's only useful, of course, if you are a scooter rider.