Look-i-like-i

Him indoors reckons that Russian striker Pavlyuchenko looks like smiley bum-shaking actress, Cameron Diaz. Should I be in any way concerned about this? He's usually pretty bad with his doubles but I have to concede, he may have a point here.

My Newest Favourite Thing: Michael McCormack's oil paintings

In Michael McCormack's studio in Island Bay, fabulous pictures await you. McCormack paints beautiful pictures of the rugged Wellington coast with dingies bobbing in the waves.

I frequently run around this coastline and I feel as though I recognise every rock and promontory. I am moved by each pohutukawa, flax and toetoe. I know I am familiar with the red phone box at Karaka Bay.

There are equally excellent pictures of cityscapes with cornershops and cafes. As a visual chronicler of Wellington, McCormack captures the light perfectly and I particularly like the way he depicts the car headlights reflecting in the wet streets after rain. I can almost hear the hiss of the tyres as they slink past.

When we visited, McCormack was experimenting with light and colour. He made some daubs on his canvas, then stepped back to view the effect. I was mesmerised by the blobs and twists of paint on his pallette. I wanted to reach out and touch them. I didn't, but boy did I want to.

His paintings are for sale, at very reasonable prices. If you haven't the money or the space for one of his canvases, he puts out a great calendar and diary each year. He also sells prints on postcards of his work. It's well-worth a visit if you're ever out that way.

Euro 2008: Quarter-finals

If I were Croatia, I would be feeling robbed, gutted, sick as a parrot and a glut of other footballing cliches. They scored in what should have been the last minute of time added on at the end of extra time. The ref decided to play 'Fergie time' - just a few more minutes until the other side bags a goal. It was a shocking decision to play that much more time added on, and one that has cost Croatia a place in the semi-finals.

Happily, I'm not Croatia and I have watched some entertaining football thus far. The Russia v Netherlands game was a classic, full of all sorts of excitement and quite a few spectacular goals. I don't think the fans were expecting that.

Spain v Italy was less thrilling, but the best team won as far as I'm concerned even if it did come down to the dreaded penalty shoot-out. Of course I was pleased to see Ronaldo do his depart-in-tears routine - it couldn't happen to a nicer bloke. And now I've got two days without football. I'll hardly know what to do with myself until the semis.

I suppose I shall have to go back to the usual round of cultural diversions - theatres; films; art galleries; exhibitions... I'd count Euro 2008 among them as sheer entertainment.

Euro 2008: Who to support?

I am still smarting from England's absence, but I have been enjoying the football played at Euro 2008. It really is the beautiful game, and I don't have to bite off all my nails when my team step onto the pitch, because they're not there.

I don't have to shout rampant biased things at the referee and the opposition, but can instead appreciate each pass, save, volley, free kick, defensive header, crunching tackle, tactical run and, of course, the goals.

But I find sport more interesting if I'm supporting one side or the another. For the record, I'm backing Spain to win the tournament. True, their wordless national anthem is a little underwhelming, but they have the most Liverpool players, including the outstanding Fernando Torres.

It felt strange, this morning, watching the football and wanting Germany to beat Portugal. Football brings out tried and tested stereotypes, and long lost prejudices, largely based on cinematic portrayls and a couple of World Wars fought long before I was born.

So in the end it came down to a question of whom do I dislike more; Michael Ballack or Cristiano Ronaldo? No contest. Ballack may be a fouling, diving, aggressive, dirty player, but Ronaldo is a petulant, whining, cheating, arrogant, selfish, vain, indulgent, tantrum-throing, spoilt, self-obsessed, pouting prima donna.

Sure, he can be a stylish player, but the whinger (and no, that's not a typo) believes he is more than the team, whether that be Portugal or Man Utd. He may be a talented footballer but he is a disgrace to football, and for that reason alone I cheered on Germany.

Life on Mars

It seems the television gods have listened to me and have rescheduled Life on Mars to appear on television on Monday night at 8.30pm.

Never mind that half of the storylines are patently ridiculous and I don't understand what's going on. That sensation of things not being quite right, wanting to succeed where you are even though you know it's wrong, is very disturbing and very strong.

John Simm and Philip Glenister are an excellent pairing and their acting and dialogue ensures that this series keeps its interest. Apparently a third series, called Ashes to Ashes, sees the series switch to the 1980s in London. I am still enjoying the 1970s in Manchester, but I am already looking forward to that - it's more my music, or at least it will be if they play the good stuff!

I also love the interpretation of the Life on Mars characters being given the Camberwick Green treatment. Move over PC McGarry number 452. Classy!

Queen of wool

The exhibition of ‘Mary-Annette Hay: Queen of Wool’, at Te Papa is fascinating for a number of reasons. I was struck by the passion and the enthusiasm of the woman, and particularly the fact that she was a woman, who was breaking new ground. The wonderfully dramatic approach that she brought to her job is also inspiring.

When the New Zealand Wool Board wanted somebody to promote it in 1948, she was the only woman who applied for the job. She says humbly that with her background of public speaking, art and drama (she went to Wellington art school) that her only attribute was an overactive imagination.

She decided to dramatise the sheep and what it could produce, mixing high fashion with everyday items like lingerie, swimwear, sportswear and children’s clothes. She was particularly enamoured of Christian Dior’s ‘New Look’ with its feminine silhouettes, swathes of fabric and fashionable ideals after the years of war, brutality and hardship.

The exhibit features examples of the European high fashion garments that inspired her, including beautiful gowns by Parisian designers Pierre Balmain and Marcel Rochas along with English designer daywear by Norman Hartnell, Hardy Amies and Digby Morton.

Mary-Annette Hay raised the profile of wool with her innovative dramatic productions, with names such as The Romance of Wool, All Eyes on Wool, Wool the Versatile, and The Inspiration of Wool. She wrote stories which she read on stage while others mimed the actions, and she costumed these productions herself, just as she would in a play.

In a televised interview playing on a loop, she explains that wool was the wealth of the commonwealth and that no other fibre could do what wool could do. She states, “Wool with its rich backdrop of history, religion, trade, politics and humanity is a live and vital community.” She became an expert in sales in marketing techniques, never missing an opportunity to promote the Wool Board, from shearing sheds to shop windows. Sales of wool rose rapidly in response to her enthusiasm.

When Mary-Annette went to Britain in 1951 she met with as many designers and people professionally connected with the wool industry as possible. They were not expecting a young woman and were swept away by her passion. She, in turn, returned to New Zealand with notebooks brimming with new ideas and ways to promote wool.

In an early example of ‘walking the talk’ she married (in 1953) in wool – the dress is wool gabardine with wool cord and is on display in the exhibit, as is her woollen ‘going away’ suit. She wasn’t entirely a feminist icon, as she left the Wool Board to have her first child in 1956, but she was an amazing woman nonetheless.

An exhibition about the New Zealand Wool Board isn’t necessarily something I would immediately race to see, but it was fascinating and I was bowled over by the infectious charm of this lady who believed in her product and her ability to market it.

It’s just a small exhibition on Level 4 in Te Papa and it’s on until September. I recommend it as a free way to spend an idle lunch hour.

British television

Just in case anyone has been getting any ideas, rest assured, that my main love is still British drama and comedy – I thought that went without saying when I let the Americans have their day.

There are so many great series that they are actually too numerous to mention. On quiet nights I am thankful for UKTV where I can watch reruns of Cracker, Doc Martin, Grumpy Old Men, and Shameless. I have the boxed sets of various comedy shows including Blackadder and Black Books, which I can watch repeatedly, and often put on a couple of episodes to cheer me up when the dearth of decent television just gets too much.

I thought Cold Feet, Green Wing, Hearts and Bones, and Teachers were all fantastic, but they seem to have been and gone and the powers that be at New Zealand television seem to have no intention of showing them again. They have filled up their repeat schedule with endless reruns of Frasier and The Nanny.

Recently I have been watching Dr. Who, Mountain, Oz and James’ Big Wine Adventure, Robin Hood, and Top Gear.

Much as I like Christopher Eccleston, I didn’t think there would ever be a Dr. Who to rival Tom Baker. I may have been wrong. David Tennant is excellent! The plots are still ludicrous and the monsters look like they’ve been sellotaped together, but the moving garden angel statues still managed to give me nightmares!

Top Gear is a classic with intelligent journalism, exquisite photography and entertaining banter. I know it's men behaving badly but I love it, and I don’t even really like cars (if it’s not an E-type Jag, it’s just a car) so that’s a real testament to its appeal. The spin-off Oz and James’ Big Wine Adventure is an excellent with more of the same combination of enthusiasm and geekiness.

Mountain had the most fabulous scenery and Griff Rhys-Jones; what more could you want? It made me feel homesick for gentle hills and humour. Robin Hood is interesting. Robin’s a bit wet and Marian looks like she’s been slapped in the face with a halibut, but the merry men are fun, Dick Allen’s sheriff is a fantastic pantomime villain and Richard Armitage’s Sir Guy of Gisborne is incredibly sexy.

I am eagerly anticipating the second series of Life on Mars – a fabulous Manchester drama with a preposterous storyline and compelling acting. John Simm and Philip Glenister are a classic combination – The Sweeney dragged kicking and screaming into the present. Naturally it has been on in Britain and my mum keeps threatening to let slip what happens next.

I was recently very pleased to note the success of Lewis. I loved Inspector Morse and I watched this new series with great trepidation, worried that it might not be able to achieve the same cachet as it's parent programme. As it is, the sergeant has grown into a great inspector (although the directors have cunningly got rid of his wife - obviously they only complicate things and prevent the great detective mind from solving cases, flirting with ladies and drinking pints), and I really like his new sidekick too. Oxford is a stunningly picturesque setting and I can annoy fellow watchers by playing 'spot the pub' and reminiscing about my youth.

Him indoors is of course a Coronation Street fan – I blame the parents. He has watched it since he was a kid and is a big admirer of all things Jack and Vera. We now watch it religiously twice a week and he refuses to find out what happens ‘in the future’, although we are a year behind and lagging further every episode.

When we were first courting, I was an Eastenders girl – it’s a north/south divide thing – but the television scheduling in New Zealand soon cured me of that habit. I suppose I have something to be grateful for after all.