Friday Five: It Will Change Me!

Australia has a lot of lotteries - there are national ones and federal ones and it seems like there's one every day of the week. They can reach pretty high stakes, and recently the prize pool topped $70million. We bought a ticket , but we didn't win. Fair enough - it is, after all, a lottery.

What does annoy me, however, is when people say, 'oh, it won't change me'. Well, clearly you don't 'deserve' to win it then - give it to me!  Of course I would pay off my mortgage and that of any other of my family members who need it, I would buy an E-type Jag and another couple of houses somewhere, preferrably one in Park Crescent, and indulge myself in my dream holidays.

But I would make changes to everyday life as well. If I had unlimited funds, here are the ways I would change:

5 Lottery Winning Changes:

1. I would always fly first class
2. I would hire a cleaner - housework would be a thing of the past for me
3. I would always get taxis home from a night out, rather than having to plan for a sober driver or leaving on the last train/bus home - or if I were in a decent city, I would just stay in a hotel overnight
4. I would donate money to every charitable organisation I walked past (as long as they weren't supporting right wing politicians)
5. Every time I had a health niggle, I would go straight to the relevant practitioner (doctor/ dentist/ physio/ massage therapist) rather than saving up all my ailments until I felt I had enough to justify the consultancy fee.

My Newest Favourite Thing: Pub Quizzes

For the last six weeks we have been going to the pub religiously (a curious adverb, but I'll leave that for another time) every Tuesday eveneing. There is nothing unusual in that of course - I enjoy a good pint of bitter or glass of chardonnay as much as the next lush - but we have been doing more than just imbibing; we have been pub-quizzing.

The dynamic of a pub quiz is fascinating; all the personalities come out to play. We run the gamut of stereotypes: competitive; timid; bullying; loud; hesitant; passive aggressive; anal (I confess that last one is me but then you knew that, didn't you?). And there is always the person who, when the answers are read out, says, "I was going to say that", to which I always think, "So, why didn't you?"

I like the quizzes that have rounds in different categories as everyone has a chance to shine in their specialist subject. We have an eclectic group who cover history, sport, science, literature, art, music, geaography and gardening. We struggle a little with 'popular ' culture if it's based on reality TV as all of us are over 35 and no longer in the demographic that enjoys watching anorexic teenagers be mean to each other while wrestling with the profundities of life such as how to boil an egg or share the hairdryer.

There's a certain amount of snobbery involved in these quizzes. The team that routinely wins is terrible at sport and proud of it, boasting of how little they know about it. This seems incredible to me. My father used to get incensed by people who jokingly dismissed their mathematical ignorance as though the arts were somehow more important (he probably still does, but I haven't lived with him for over 20 years, so don't hear about it as often). You know the type: "Oh, I was woeful at maths at school. It's so boring; I leave it to my accountant. Haw, haw!"

Sport-phobes are as bad. I enjoy watching football (as I may have mentioned), cricket, tennis, athletics, rowing, cycling, triathlon, skiing, and most sports that England play, among other activities. I don't particularly enjoy motor-racing, show-jumping or snooker, but I know a bit about them just from listening to the news and not being blinkered. A complete lack of interst in all sport is surely wilfull ignorance, just as it would be for someone to claim they hate all books or all films.

Besides, how do you know you don't like it unless you've tried it? If I've forced myself to read a Stieg Larsson novel, you can watch a football match - the latter takes a fraction of the time and is infinitely more exciting and less predictable. As Sir Thomas Beecham said, "Try everything once except folk dancing and incest." I think he was a little harsh on the folk dancing but otherwise his sentiments are admirable.

Anyway, these quizzes are usually for a good cause, whether it be the volunteer fire brigade, the local primary school or research into childhood leukemia. There are often raffles at which you can buy tickets for things you don't want, or auctions at which you can bid for things you don't need (Him Outdoors bid for a poker set and we've got a gas fire) just because it's for charity.

And, of course, you learn stuff. True, it may be largely irrelevant, but I am now cognisant of many facts:

• Pibroch is a type of music usually performed on the bagpipes
• Kinkalow and Lambkin Dwarves are cats
• Thanatology is the study of death
• Waitangi is the principal settlement on the Chatham Islands
• Members of the Queen's Council 'take silk'
• Richard Nixon made the first phone call to the moon
• The collective name for finches is a charm

Who knows when or if I will need this information again, but if I am ever called upon to climb the Auckland Sky Tower, I will know that there are 51 flights of steps to negotiate.

The Red Cross - will be there

“When I needed a neighbour were you there, were you there?

When I needed a neighbour were you there?”

This used to be one of my favourite hymns at school. I loved the idea of global benevolence; the thought that someone could give without judgement and without expecting to receive. I liked to think that was a basic tenet of society and that compassion for one’s fellow man was what raised us above beasts (that and an appreciation of art in all its forms).

When I was a child I joined the Red Cross. My sisters and I (although, strangely not my brother from memory) went to a hall every week and were taught first aid, basic hygiene and survival techniques. Some of the things I learned there – how to find clean water or tie a tourniquet – have never left me.

There were many occasions where we helped make up care-parcels; sometimes we sent hand-knitted socks and scarves to people in cold countries far away; sometimes we sent tins of baked beans and canned fish to the old folk’s home down the road. We laid a wreath at the cenotaph in memory of all the dead soldiers who fought for our freedom and we helped collect money to send to disaster-ravaged communities. The aim of the red cross is to help people in crisis, whoever and wherever they are.

The Red Cross is still one of the charities to which I give money through a monthly donation. I admire their egalitarian principles and their universal humanity. I am not alone – the movement has 97 million volunteers worldwide. As an example of what they do, you can’t go past the ‘Boxing Day Tsunami’ in which aprroximately 230,000 people lost their lives across 14 countries.

Since December 2004, The Red Cross has built over 51,000 homes, 289 hospitals and clinics, and 161 schools in tsunami-affected areas such as Indonesia, Sri Lanka, the Maldives and India. Regardless of faith or ethnicity, over 680,000 people now have access to an improved water source, 340,000 people have access to improved waste management facilities, and over 277,000 people have been certified or skilled in community-based first aid and psychosocial support.

Whether they are providing transport to make sure elderly patients keep their hospital appointments on the Kapiti Coast, providing facilities to collect essential blood donations, or providing shelter to those devastated by earthquake in Haiti, Red Cross volunteers are donating their time and skills to help those less fortunate than themselves. I don’t know about you, but to me that’s a credo worth following.

"Wherever you travel I'll be there, I'll be there,

Wherever you travel I'll be there.

And the creed and the colour and the name won't matter, I'll be there."

If you want to make a difference, start by making a donation.

Daffodil Day

Today is daffodil day. I don’t know if that is an official term but today volunteers from the Cancer Society of New Zealand are out and about on the streets collecting money for research into this most pernicious disease.

The website assures us that 88% of money collected “goes towards vital scientific research into the causes and treatments for all types of cancer, as well as providing a wide range of support services, information, health promotion and education programmes to reduce cancer risk, awareness campaigns and practical support for people affected by cancer.”

The daffodil with its spring connotations and cheerful yellow bloom is the symbol of the Cancer Society and when you donate money you are offered a plastic one to pin to your clothes or a sticker.

The streets of Wellington are grim and grey today but there are bright yellow spots of hope tied to lampposts and blossoming on sombre civil service suits. The ladies I spoke to were eating muffins that had been donated to them by a café across the road. Apparently cancer affects one in three New Zealanders. We cannot be unmoved.

If you can’t find a ‘daffodil seller’ – and they’re pretty easy to spot – you can also donate through the Cancer Society of New Zealand website. I urge you to wear your daffodil with pride and help to battle this disease, which has such devastating consequences.