It’s a lovely summer day here in Wellington. It’s Saturday and the sun is shining, and the whole day stretches ahead of me. I can choose how I spend this day.
A bit of a problem to start the day. I live in this lovely old (1914) cottage with all mod cons except that the washing machine empties into the laundry tub. And yes, you’ve guessed it, something was left in the tub and I was greeted by water rushing to meet me as I opened the door. As the laundry is tucked away in a cupboard in the bathroom, I now have the cleanest floor tiles in Brooklyn.
Today was Suburb Cleanup Day. This is apparently an annual event and they/somebody will take away any household items you no longer want. Of course, they don’t take garden or household refuse. So bright and early I put a few things that I wanted rid of out at the gate and looked up to see the many things that neighbours had discarded.
A golf bag (minus clubs) across the road; a child’s pram at another house; an armchair at another; and the girls next door put out the dog kennel. I guess they decided that as George, their little pooch, never goes ito it they may as well get rid of it.
Then a friend called to say that if I was going to work in the garden he was happy to come along and help. Great friend! Before we started I had to borrow some shears from my neighbour and as is the custom here, before starting work the three of us sat in the sunshine on the patio and had coffee. It was so lovely, no wind, which is unusual for Wellington, sunshine and pleasant company I didn’t want to move. But then we did.
We cut back several decades of ivy from a sitting area at the rear of the house and then weeded the brick steps leading up to it. I ruthlessly cut back much of the growth that was keeping the sunshine from the back patio and now there is more light in that area and into the house.
Then lunch and my friend left because I had to finish my blog for the day before we go out to a fireworks display for Guy Fawkes night. Heaven knows why we continue to celebrate this treasonous act but here in New Zealand we do.
Many families have parties on this day and let off fireworks. One of my grandsons has a birthday on November 5 and so they always have fireworks. The City Council has as firework display each year in the harbour. So we are going to visit friends whose house overlooks the harbour to view the fireworks.
Frankly, I don’t like fireworks and think they should be banned except for properly organised displays. When I was very young I saw a child lose an eye and have hated fireworks ever since. You will understand then that my children were never allowed fireworks. On the odd occasion that their father bought some, the children were kept inside well away from any trouble.
End of rant for the day.
“Remember remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason while gunpowder treason
should ever be forgot.”
Traditional English rhyme – 17th century.
- Spectacular fireworks displays across the UK (mirror.co.uk)
- What is November fifth in England (wiki.answers.com)
- Why is getting rid of rubbish such a chore? (blogs.confused.com)