Friday Five: Christmas Tree Ornaments

 

As we now have kittens in our lives, I managed to persuade Him Outdoors that we needed a tree for their first Christmas. Cats of any age love Christmas trees; all those shiny things to play with and pull off: such fun! I was a little concerned that they might hurt themselves or cut their paws if they broke anything, so I only decorated the tree with robust and non-shatter items. There are still many precious memories among the branches.

7 Christmas Tree Decorations:

1. A football - of course 

2. A fantail - given to us by The Weevil and a reminder of New Zealand

3. A tui - a gift from another Kiwi friend

4. A magpie - we've also got a couple of doves nestling among the branches - I love to see birds in the trees

5. A rocking horse - my mother decided this one was for me - you can tell because she wrote my name on it

6. A collage Christmas tree on a Christmas tree - very post modern from Nephew Aidan


7. Pom poms - as you do (if you're Niece Niamh)

Playing Dress-Ups

The Weevil took her children to see a production of Pinocchio at the Gryphon Theatre the other day. They loved it, especially as they got to meet the actors afterwards; the Blue Fairy was a big hit by all accounts. There are photos on the wall of the theatre of previous productions and they spotted me in one of the pictures. 'Is that Aunty Katy playing dress ups?' the youngest one asked, apparently. And yes, I suppose it is.

I am currently rehearsing for Secret Bridesmaids' Business (which is due to open on Thursday 1st September at the Athenaeum Hall in Arrowtown), in which I get to play a character completely unlike myself. Lucy Dean is 'earthy, impetuous, direct.' She is 'tall, striking', and one hell of a trouble-maker. She never censors herself, is impossible to embarrass, and is 'not scared to say things that people don't want to hear'.

I am a Libran who is almost incapable of making a decision. I hate conflict and am terrified of hurting people's feelings. Can you imagine how liberating it is to portray the exact opposite? There are many reasons that actors act. This is one of them. You can slip into different characters and try them on for size just like a new outfit. It's a lot of fun, and can be a thrilling experience. I think you just have to make sure you don't take it too far, however, which is why I am not a fan of method acting.

When the lights go down and the audience leaves, you have to remember who you are underneath the temporary wardrobe. Acting (in the words of the great Sir Ian McKellen) is pretending. Imagination is powerful, and children instinctively know that. Maybe I have just never really grown up, but I still love playing dress ups and hope I always will.

Beervana 2011: Part One



Gathering on the Westpac Stadium concourse

As we entered the Westpac Stadium, Weevil was asked to show ID and then given a red bracelet to wear. She thought it might be so she could go down the hydroslide, but was told it was so she wouldn't get asked again. Being as she's over twice the legal drinking age, she thought it unlikely she would be, so refused to wear the bracelet. Him Outdoors thought it was very amusing - I was not so amused, as no one asked me!

We exchanged our hard-earned cash for beer tokens - I like this concept. The tokens looked like play money we had as kids and indeed, we had fun with them as adults. Our wrist-bands confirmed that we were 'licensed to drink responsibly' and so we did. The glasses held 200ml and the tastings were approx half a glass so there was enough to gauge the flavour without getting smashed. Although you could have full glasses if you wished, I stuck to the tasting size all night so I could sample as many as possible.

The atmosphere in the concourse of the stadium isn't exactly convivial and doesn't lend itself to a relaxed evening of drinking and talking. Many people were wandering about looking for somewhere to sit and the lack of cloakroom facilities was annoying - it's very hard to take notes (let alone photographs) while standing up and clutching a bag and coat.



Stu Yeastie proudly displaying his wares

I wasn't particularly impressed with the layout either. Although you could occasionally spot a brewer if you knew whom to look for, brewers weren't necessarily serving the beer so you couldn't ask them about their products as you have been able to in previous years. The pump handles didn't display the breweries' emblems but just had hand-written signs so it was difficult to tell what was available - some beers were 'saved' for later in the session due to a limited number of pumps.

The beers were divided by region, so one bar sold 'The North' while others were 'Central', 'Top of the South', 'Canterbury', or 'Southern'. The Australians were out in force and Wellington had its own bar selling Bennett's, Garage Project (although none was on at the session I attended), Tuatara, and Yeastie Boys, amongst others. There were 'style bars' such as a real ale bar, a cider bar, and one for festive brews - the theme of this year was 'let's go... Black', which apparently "pays homage to a certain sporting event taking over New Zealand this year."


The Southern boys and girls look thrilled to be here

Mash-Up (NZ Craft Beer TV, 6%) - I have heard a lot about this beer through a pretty astute advertising campaign. It's an interesting experiment, blending elements from 44 craft breweries around the country to create a 'sample' NZ beer of the moment. They say you can't please all of the people all of the time, and I don't know who is pleased with this, but it isn't me. I found it to be a bit dry, a bit hoppy, slightly citrusy and a touch too fizzy; neither one thing nor the other. Although this was only my first beer of the night, I knew it wouldn't be my favourite. Keep it in the lab.


Him Outdoors appears to be enjoying something

Cock and Bull Common Beer (Steam Brewing Company, 4.5%) - I liked the name. Honestly, with a list of over 200 beers to choose from, it's a bit like picking a horse. I liked the beer too, which is clearly a bonus. It was a golden coppery session-style brew. The tasting notes suggested you'd be able to smell mint. 'What a load of bollocks' I thought, but I stand corrected. I definitely got a whiff of minty goodness - perhaps the first breath-freshening beer? It was like a Goldilocks beer - not too bitter; not too sweet; just right.

Minimus (Hallertau, 3.7%) - a breakfast pale ale, apparently, and why not? I've heard of people putting champagne on their cornflakes; why not a dry, bitter, hoppy drop to kickstart you with your porridge? Okay, time to move on from the Goldilocks theme...

Manuka Magic (Naturale, 4.6%) - I thought I would try something different (the tasting notes proclaimed this was 'unique, adventurous, delicious'). I noted that it was floral and inoffensive. Unfortunately, while trying to juggle my coat, notebook and wallet, I spilt half of it all over the floor (hence the earlier gripe), but didn't like it enough at first sip to need to return for more.


Some of the random commentators. And I mean random.

Random comments from fellow drinkers - "It's a bit rough at the end but it went straight down my spine" (Porter Noir, Hallertau, 6.6%); "It's a bit heavy, but it's not wee heavy" (Tuatara XI, 10.5%); "Have you tried the Boris? It's bonkers!" (Boris, Feral Brewing, 11.5%) "Isn't that Fabio Capello?" (No)



Some bloke who isn't Fabio Capello

My Newest Favourite Thing: FC Barcelona

Obviously I would rather it were Liverpool waving that trophy aloft, but as that was never going to happen this season, it couldn't happen to a better club than Barcelona FC.

Their play in winning the Champions League Final 3-1 was superlative. Mesmerising football and spectacular precision passing by the likes of Pedro, Villa, Iniesta and Xavi Hernandez made for sumptuous viewing. Mascherano was marshalled into mid field/ defence but most of the action was taking place in the attacking third.

En passant I must say that Wayne Rooney's goal came with an excellent finish, but Giggs was off-side when he received the ball that led to the pass that set up the goal that Wayne scored. 

Barcelona played like a team that knew each other's moves so well they could have executed those tricks blindfolded. It was magical, artistic, fantastic craftsmanship with no diving for penalties, rolling around on the floor, Hollywood tactics or scything tackles (from either side, to be fair).

And then there was Lionel Messi. There is very little that can be said about him that hasn't already been said. He is masterful and quite simply the best footballer on the planet. He and his fellow Catalan genii split the Manchester United midfield like Zorro's rapier through crumbly Lancashire. It was a joy to watch.

It's always fun to see Fergie and his show ponies annihilated, although to his credit he knew and respected it, saying afterwards, "They play the right way and they enjoy their football. They do mesmerise you with their passing and we never really did control Messi. In my time as manager, it's the best team I've faced."

The Weevil asked me what she should tell my nephew - 'Do we want Manchester United to win because they are English?' No. If it were any other English club (even The Arse), then yes, I would probably want them to succeed. But I already have to hear Red Shite fans bleat on about how they have now won more titles than Liverpool, they are the best team ever in England; at least we are still the best English team ever in Europe.

Foul play

Andy Gray has been sacked and Richard Keys has resigned from SKY for making derogatory and sexist comments about Sian Massey, a female linesman (so that's why they changed the name to referee's assistant). They weren't able to mention her without commenting on her looks (because, of course, that's how all women should be judged), suggested the game had 'gone mad' for allowing female officials, and then cast aspersions on the ability of women to understand the off-side rule. This is disgraceful, but not surprising.

Having played and watched football for many years, I know the off-side rule as well as anybody, despite the 'modern interpretation' being ridiculous - as Bill Nicholson said as manager of Spurs, "If he's not interfering with play, what's he doing on the pitch?" (That quote is often attributed to the great Bill Shankly, but apparently he said, "If a player is not interfering with play or seeking to gain an advantage, then he should be", which is a different matter entirely, although equally valid.)

Boorish behaviour dictates that only men can talk about sport - I think we are meant to stick to diets and babies (two of the world's dullest subjects to my mind). I have been in pubs in South Island New Zealand where blokes ignore my opinions on sport because I am female. Recently I told a man who won the National Sevens (Auckland) and he didn't believe me - he had to confirm it by asking another man, who wasn't even there. Incidentally this Queenstown-hosted event was advertised on SKY with fast athletes (men running with balls), tough competitors (bruising tackles) and fantastic scenery (a close-up of a woman's cleavage), which tells you all you need to know about the sport appreciation in this country.

The International Sevens are also usually advertised with pictures of scantily-clad trollops preening for the camera and not watching the games. Admittedly, football is my favourite sport which isn't as popular in pub-talk here, but my friend, Psycho Phil, knows more than most men about rugby and can (and does) talk ad nauseum about the All Blacks - she receives similar treatment.

Sian Massey 'ran the line' in the Wolves v Liverpool game and made some excellent decisions and brave calls - my team won that match 0-3 which may fractionally influence my endorsement. To suggest that women don't know the off-side rule is sexist, ignorant and predictably lazy. It's the same casual sexism that says we can't read maps or drive. As my sister The Weevil was the World Orienteering Champion, and statistics prove that men have more road accidents than women, I refute these uninformed pronouncements.

In some respects New Zealand has led the way in promoting women’s equality, being the first country in the world to give women the vote and first in the world to simultaneously have a woman governor general, woman mayor and elected female prime minister. However, casual sexism and misogynistic remarks are rife in the laddish culture that sports commentary can breed. Programmes like these are often less about sports and more about pretending to have a personality - throw in a cheap sexist joke and apparently you're a 'character' and if you don't find it funny; you have no sense of humour.

No, I don't find it amusing when women are considered merely as sexual objects. New Zealand loves its netball - the players are rated in the paper, not in terms of ability, but in terms of 'hotness'. Nor do I find anything to laugh about when people suggest women are inferior. This supposes that thay can be treated badly because they don't count as much. Last week in New Zealand a woman was burnt alive and left on a rural road. Police suspect it is an honour killing - women can be used as commodoties because they are 'second class citizens'.

You may say that to connect these things is a giant leap, but I believe if you condone casual sexism you are taking the first small steps towards degrading and debasing women. And if you are one of these women who encourage such sentiments, I despise and pity you in equal measure.

Dry Stone Walls

When people ask me (as they invariably do) what I miss about England, I respond; family, friends and football - in no particular order. I also miss English drama, comedy, theatre, sense of humour, beer and pubs. There are also certain things that have the capacity to make me homesick, but I never knew that the Public Footpath Network and dry stone walls were among them. It seems I am not alone in this.

When I posted photos of my trip home on My Week in Pictures, the Weevil told me it was those very walls that made her want to go home. So this is for her:

Geological Geometry

Grey lines dissect the green hills,

Marking out history with geological geometry.

Where the softer South grows hedges,

The stony North builds walls

To separate the sheep from the goats;

The cows from the arable crops;

The personal profits from the fallow fields.

There are stories in stones;

Placed by hands imparting human shape to the landscape

Following the contours of ancient shifts and rifts;

Settling the wrangles of nosy neighbours

And stopping the stock from wandering;

Retaining plain sailing on rolling pastures

Layering parallel lines with through stones.

Boundaries of boulders to guide and direct;

Selecting the right path and bypassing the pitfalls,

With occasional bolt holes to squeeze through

And narrate a particular past

Without words to cement sentences:

Two stones above a stone

And one above two.



 

 

 

My newest favourite thing: cherries

Cherries are the heralds of summer. They are the rubies in the centre of the golden stone fruit bowl.

When children, and some adults, swing the ripe red pendulums from their ears and pretend to be wearing sumptuous earrings, you know the season has arrived.

Obviously, when they arrive depends on where you live. Here they arrive just in time for Christmas, but in the Northern Hemisphere I associate them with my sister’s birthday. The Weevil was born in July and we were often abroad in European orienteering countries for the event.

I have a childhood memory (of course, they are notoriously unreliable) of the Weevil skipping joyously along carrying a Black Forest gateaux (I suspect we may even have been in the Black Forest itself) and tripping; sending cream, cherries and chocolate shavings in all directions. The tears had nothing to do with the skimmed knees.

A stall in Arrowtown tempts you with luscious delights; the sellers have come from That Dam Fruit Stall in Cromwell. You can try varieties and pick a favourite punnet, if you are decisive.

Otherwise you struggle with your choice; red, white, pink or purple? Sweet or tart; ‘subacid’ or ‘bland’ – those last descriptions are not mine but come from the Horticultural Society. They probably provided the more prosaic number and letter naming system, while someone with a little more imagination came up with ‘Liberty Bell’, ‘Stardust’, ‘Columbia’ and ‘Staccato’.

Not only do they taste delicious, but apparently they are good for you. Cherries contain high quantities of the antioxidant anthocyanin, (also found in grapes and berries) so you can claim you are being healthy as you puff out your cheeks with the pips.

We would count them as children to see who we were going to marry; tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, rich-man, poor-man, beggar-man, thief. There was never any mention of electrical engineers so I can only assume their powers of prediction are equally as good as any other form of divination.

If you’re not counting the pips, you can always spit them out. My mother will be pleased to know that I haven’t entered (or even witnessed) the cherry pip spitting championships, but there is a hotly contested regional round of the competition in Cromwell at the start of the season. They make their own entertainment in this area, you know.

And when the cherries have all gone, it's not too long to wait for the blushing blossoms to appear. Symbolising the ephemeral nature of life, they are bashed and buffeted by the winds but some survive.

They are revered in Japan and in 1912 the Japanese gave a gift of some 3000 trees to America to symbolise their blossoming friendship between nations. Is it even more symbolic that these ornamental trees bear no fruit? Whatever, they look simply beautiful.

Winning and Losing

Well thank goodness for that result. Liverpool beat Burnley 4-0 so harmony remains in our household and I can afford to be gracious in victory with Him Outdoors. It was a fantastic result for Benayoun scoring his hat-trick and Stevie G played brilliantly in his alternate position. Him Outdoors admits that his boys played well, but Liverpool are simply a class above, and I’m not exactly going to argue.

Meanwhile the All Blacks lost to South Africa allowing the South Africans to take the Tri Nations title. There is a lot of kicking and chasing and precision penalties in the South African game. Kiwis complain that this is boring – they prefer running the ball from the backs. Both of these versions of the game are equally exciting to me although at the moment, only one is proving effective. Guess which?

The All Blacks are the Man Utd of rugby – beautiful to watch when it’s going well, but ‘they don’t like it up ‘em.’ The penalties they gave away were often for ill discipline, brought about because they were frustrated on the field. Whether you like it or not, if you know you have the best kicking boots in the game, that’s a good tactic by South Africa.

The Weevil was waiting for her bags at the carousel in the airport when the All Blacks turned up, returned from their unsuccessful campaign and looking somewhat sheepish. She said she was excited to be in their midst and found herself grinning, although everyone else was looking away. No one had turned up to welcome them home.

‘Can you imagine being surrounded by the England football team?’ she asked me. I assured her I would have no self-control whatsoever if I were in touching distance of Stevie G, no matter what his recent results. She asked the husband of a friend, known to be a rugby fan, if he weren’t excited by the presence of his sporting idols. He replied, ‘Nah. I might be if they’d won.’ I think that’s indescribably sad.

Are our heroes not allowed to have bad days? Are we so capricious that we turn our backs after one tiny letdown? The All Blacks were beaten by the World Champions in formidable form. I don’t think that’s a disgrace. The only shame here should be attached to the fickle response of the so-called fans.

Beervana 2009: Tasting Notes (Part Two)

I am able to try an IPA from Nøgne Ø, of which we have never heard before. I find it has notes of varnish and isn’t overly drinkable – I can just taste alcohol rather than beer. Him Outdoors claims it’s ‘flowery’ – maybe jonquils then, as their fragrance gives me a violent headache. He has got an Imperial Stout so we swap – this is very, very nice; black with dark brown froth.

The boys turn up with a none-too-fresh-looking chilli in a beer glass. It’s a gimmick lager which bites your tongue from Mussel Inn. Why would you do that to a beer? It’s just silly. To be fair, when the Weevil arrives (two hours late) and wants to catch up, she aims immediately for something she knows she likes, the Monkey Puzzle Extra Strong Ale from the same place, which she announces is ‘a good starter’.

There are talks throughout the evening on such topics as ‘beer and cheese matching’, ‘brewing organically’, ‘the right glass for your beer’ and ‘women and beer mythbusters’. An announcement over the public address system keeps reminding us that these talks are on, but although I would like to listen to Neil Miller and Martin Bosley talk about food and beer, I don’t feel that now is the right time to do so when I am too busy sampling the delights myself – I’ll get a curry later; that will do for food and beer matching tonight.

I am bought a random beer which turns out to be an IPA from the Twisted Hop. My notes at this point read ‘Lovely. I like it. More of this sort of thing’. I am finding it increasingly difficult to balance my pen, programme and camera, and also to write coherent notes evidently.

As Him Outdoors talks to strangers he finds a long-haired ale-lover from Stockport. He actually lives in Auckland and has come down this weekend especially for the beer festival. He is in raptures over the Great End ESB at the Peak Brewery. We try it and I can see why. It is cask conditioned and served via a hand-pull it tastes like something I would expect to find in Coniston. It claims to be ‘extra strong and extra bitter’; my notes read ‘very strong, very fruity and a little bit extra.’ The Weevil reckons it tastes like a Scottish Cal 80, Bellhaven; she’s all for her comparisons.

When we try the Old House ESB from the Townshend Brewery, she decides it is like a Tetley's Mild from Haddon Hall. Just in case I don’t realise how high praise this is, she adds, ‘This is the best beer I’ve had in New Zealand’. The brewing chaps are a little concerned when she asks for ‘more of your finest flattest beer please’ until she bats her big brown eyes and tells them she loves it. I’m impressed too (by the beer rather than the eyes – I’ve seen them all my life) and although it smells slightly of cabbage, it is flat and fulsome and English-tasting.

We head back up to the Arrow Brewing Company for Some Wee Heavy Scotch Ale which is pleasant and sweet and, well...heavy. The chaps provide tasting notes which claim it contains flavours of toffee and orange brandy’. At this stage I think we should probably take their word for it. The Weevil notes, ‘Another flat one – but more fruity Kiwi style’. Him Outdoors has finished noting things. In fact, I think he has misplaced his programme but he has appointed himself chief photographer, hence lots of blurred shots of drinkers’ feet.

We save the best until (nearly) last and savour a drop of Pot Kettle Black from Yeastie Boys. It is still the best beer in show, and they have pretty smart t-shirts too. It’s like a Terry’s Chocolate Orange with hops and alcohol: very tasty indeed!

The adjacent stall is the Green Man Brewery apparently trying to save the world one beer at a time. We join them by starting with an IPA, which is reminiscent of bananas and cloves in a totally nice and tasty, and finishing shortly afterwards with the Strong, which is strong and tasty. I must admit to trying this last time round and not remembering a whole lot afterwards. After a couple of sips of this blend of Dopplebock matured on whisky barrel wood and blended with Best Bitter, a similar thing seems to happen. Is this déjà bu?

So in summation, my top 5 in no particular order are:
Tobin’s Cask Ale – Arrow Brewing Company; Tricerahops Double IPA – Ninkasi; Old House ESB – Townshend Brewery; Great End ESB – Peak Brewery; Yeastie Boys – Pot Kettle Black

Beervana 2009: Tasting Notes (Part One)

Beervana has grown. This year it is almost a victim of its own success. The doors open at 5pm – there has been a previous session from 12-4pm – and the queue snakes back across Civic Square to get into the Town Hall. It is mainly comprised of people who have come straight from work and are looking forward to kicking off their weekend with some decent ales.

Through the doors we are presented with a wrist band a glass – we make sure we get the straight-sided rather than the one with a lip that looks like a vase. It just tastes better drinking out of this one, plus it’s bigger – only one place will charge us more for choosing wisely (Hashigo Zake Limited, since you ask).

The last time I was in this building I was receiving citizenship from the mayor. I suspect this will be a somewhat different evening, although once again I am accompanied by Him Outdoors and the Weevil – both of them are present at most of the major events in my life.

Out of a sense of loyalty, and the fact that they make damn fine beer, we head straight to Yeastie Boys. They are at Beernz Limited/ Bar Edward and have a couple of new beers to sample. I try Plan K (Belgian style; lots of flavor; a bit nutty) and Him Outdoors indulges in a spot of His Majesty (supreme IPA; nice as a first one to try). They are proudly displaying their trophy, and why not? They have won best porter for their Pot Kettle Black, and deservedly so. We determine to return later in the evening when we are ready to come over to the dark side.

We find the boys supping a variety of offerings from Twisted Hop (IPA ‘very bitter, but slightly lacking’) and Tasman Brewing Company (Porter ‘like coffee in a beer glass’; Pale Ale ‘weak tasting with a cheesy aftertaste’), and we take them to find the Arrow Brewing Company. The map is so tiny that Him Outdoors says he can’t read it even with his glasses on, and it is left to me to navigate the corridors of power, and beer.

I discussed the layout with a few of the brewers and they said they generally preferred last year’s more cramped but intimate setting of the Overseas Passengers’ Terminal. There it was all about the brewers and everyone was happy chatting to each other. Here the stalls were more spread out and on the edges of the venue, like blushing wallflowers waiting to be asked for a dance.

The Arrow Brewing Company are tucked away upstairs in a corner with their casks of beer born with altitude. It’s a little early in the evening for the Wee Heavy Scotch Ale, so we opt instead for the Tobins Cask Ale which pours a gorgeous orange/gold colour with a delightful frothy head. It looks like an English drop, tastes like one too and has a long refreshing taste.

We mention that we are heading down there very soon and the friendly chaps invite us to come and visit. I envisage a few sessions on this stuff, not least because the Weevil writes in her tasting notes, ‘sippy session beer – not too fizzy and really nice.’ This makes it into my top five of the night despite the sexist advertising more in line with Tui than the actual decent beer that this is - I suppose most beer advertising is still aimed at men - sigh!

The name Tricerahops from the Ninkasi Brewing Company in Oregon seems to leap out of the page at me, so we make a slightly boozy beeline down to the Regional Wines & Spirits stall where some of the tipple is poured into our glasses. The blokes here are full of patter, ‘We’re the best beer shop in town!’ Him Outdoors has enough of sales talk for a while (he just finished working for a corporate company today) – he barks ‘I know’ and then feels sorry at the crestfallen faces and drinks up appreciatively. I like the hop content very much and find this to be a complex but subtle mix of hops and malt. Only later do I realise it is 8.8%.

We make a point of not visiting the breweries that we know we like because we have drunk their beer before and will do again. Maybe this is a bit unfair (and it means we miss out on Emerson’s Bewitched, a special festive brew apparently) but we simply can’t do justice to them all.

We hear that Epic have sold out of their Armageddon IPA anyway. When we mention this to another brewer, however, he just laughs that is exactly the sort of rumour Luke would put about to create more demand. There’s still some on at The Malthouse anyway and we have a couple of pints later, although we swore we would go straight home after the festival this time.