‹ 15.2.04 / 0 comment(s) ›
As far as public holidays go, Waitangi Day is about the most controversial on the New Zealand calendar (thank God we don't have Coming Of Age Day or Doll's Festival to complicate matters). While the rest of the country moaned and grizzled about racial divisiveness (looking at you here Mr Don "I'm very comfortable with different cultures ... clearly, I've got a Chinese wife" Brash), I fled to the nation's favourite Presbyterian settlement to bear witness to my cousin's nuptuals.
And a lovely outing it was too. The weather threatened to ruin it all but miraculously held off long enough to allow the couple to exchange their solemn vows ("I'll respect your bug preservation ...") before it finally picked up and threatened to blow at least five light-as-a-feather pavlovas off the afternoon tea tressle. The reception was at the Otago Museum, oddly enough, but the big airy atrium (new since I were a lad) worked out really well - plenty of space to sit and watch the night unfold, a roomy space to shake your tail-feather if the mood so struck, a big balcony for the requisite fresh air, along with a continual supper and bar that never seemed to run dry. Nice.
Assorted aunties, uncles, cousins, second cousins and forty-second cousins were also mingled with (and there was even a surprise guest appearance from the increasingly home-bound Grandad) so a very pleasant time was had indeed. A text message from my sister tonight even informs me that there are a couple of passable snaps of the family. I'll reserve judgement until I see them but if it's true, it's nothing short of a miracle ... an auspicious event which will hopefully bode well for the new Mr and Mrs Hore!
‹ 10.2.04
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Love schmove. Because we grow more bitter with age, and believe strongly in things that simply just won't go away, Meg and I present once more our favourite annual dose of e-bile: Be My Anti-Valentine. Send 'til it hurts.
‹ 2.2.04
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