Take it and run

Listening to: Mashups on Radio Active

I've decided to take the new job. I'm going to work out my 4 weeks notice, take a week off, and then start my new position in early August.

This feels right. I'm apprehensive about how competent I am going to be, and how we'll cope with less money coming in, but it still feels like the right thing to do.

One way to tell how much your work appreciates you is to tell your manager you are leaving. All the team leaders I have informed have been really cool about it and have told me stuff like I'll leave a big and not easily replaced gap in the team, which is nice to hear, but can't change my mind.

For a lot of reasons, it is time to move on.

Wow that was fast

Yesterday I interviewed for a job I was interested in. The interview went well, and was not at all stressful or intimidating. I was told I would be notified by the end of the week if I was successful.

After freaking me out this afternoon by actually ringing the workmates I had nominated as referees, this evening I was offered the position.

I did not expect to be in this scenario so soon.

Pro's are better hours, less stress and less pressure, and more interest and more things to learn. The only con is somewhat less money.

If I don't take this opportunity, there may be some eternal 'what-if' style regret and or rueing the day.

Change feels good. Intimidating but good. Cool.

Also cool is this. Woo hoo!

How do you like this weather beeaatch?!

Clearly, I tempted fate when discussing the glorious non-suckage of Saturday's weather

Forecast for the Wellington area from the Metservice website:

Monday
Max: 8°C
Min: 3°C
Showers, possible sleet. Strong very cold southerlies.

Tuesday
Max: 9°C
Min: 6°C
Occasional showers. Strong very cold southerlies.

Observed Wind-Chill
Feels like -2 °C
4 layers of clothing are recommended to remain comfortable in these conditions

I am known for stoically accepting weather, but when it stops me from doing things I like and starts to affect my mood I have to draw the line. Still, we have had the shortest day of the year already. Summer here we come.

Imagery

Weather confusion
The weather today was supposed to suck. As can be seen below, in Kelson at least, the weather clearly did not suck. There was a fairly cold wind in operation though.

However, looking south implied that some of the suckage operating down there at the moment was on its way. It didn't eventuate; tonight it is cold and clear. We in Wellington seem to be excempted from the usual pattern of cold fronts that come up the country at the moment. We have had one or two, but a few have been predicted to come storming up and then hit everywhere but Wellington.
How come big snowfalls in the South Island are such major news? The networks send people out to do live reports ("Whats it like out there?" "Its cold"), they find some cars sliding around to film, and some schoolkids who have a day off because the schools are closed. But guess what? They could recycle the reports from last year, and the year before that, and the year before that and no-one would notice, because this happens every year. In winter oddly enough.
I expect our Canadian to scoff at what passes for winter here when she arrives in a few weeks.

***
Sometimes the airshow comes to me

If NotKate insists on referring to me as a plane geek, then I have an expectation to live up to.

My normal morning on evening shift slumber on Tuesday was rudely interrupted by the echoing drone of an aircraft. A Wanganui Aero Work Ltd Cresco was topdressing (air dropping fertiliser) the farmland on the ridge across from us that forms part of Belmont Regional Park.
Naturally I got out of bed to watch. Topdressing is some of the most entertaining flying you are likely to see outside of an airshow. The requirements of the job mean that topdressers have to fly low, down valleys and over ridges, with tight turns to keep away from dangers and get back to the airstrip quickly to reload. The environment at low altitude is filled with hazards, like power lines and wires. In the picture below the Cresco is passing well behind the power pylon, but you get the idea.
Its not dangerous per se, but there is an elevated element of managed risk compared to other kinds of flying (there is a reason low flying is generally discouraged or avoided if not actually illegal in most places), and is highly unforgiving of mistakes. Its not like the aircraft is operating from a fully set up runway either. This one was heading back to a grass strip in the hills behind to reload after every pass.
In Rotorua we lived across the road from a farm, and one of my most vivid memories is of watching one of these (hows that for a fugly aeroplane! Also starred in "Mad Max 3 Beyond Thunderdome" if you've seen it) fly over my house so low after a topdressing run I thought it was going to take the roof off.

Being a nice sunny morning, I went into the park a little way for a closer look:

And returned to my car to find it covered in a very thin and even coat of super-phosphate fertiliser.

Topdressers are a routine sight in rural New Zealand, but aren't so common near the big cities.It was kinda fun to be able to watch one working on my doorstep.

By the way D3vo, the plane you jumped out of at Taupo is a descendant of the Cresco, hence the similar appearance if you noticed.

Being unusually out and about on a nice winters morning, I got a nice photo of mist filling the Hutt Valley below.
And a misty Wellington Harbour from the Maungaraki water tank.

Back in a jiffy

Off-black will be off-air temporarily for a few days while we get some running repairs made to our computer thingy.

Weird pizza

Listening to: Together in concert:live-Tim Finn, Bic Runga, Dave Dobbyn.
Waitangi Day 2000, a group of cohorts and myself gathered into the mighty Triumph and headed up to Palmy to see this concert, supported ably by Betchadupa, Fur Patrol and Stellar. And lo, it was way cool, sitting in the sun on a hot summers day, and continuing on into the night enjoying good music.

From this mornings Dom Post, a flyer for new Domino's pizza flavours: Is it just me, or is Meat Pie (mince, gravy, onions, peas (!), tomato, topped with pastry and tomato sauce in case you were wondering), a really freaking weird pizza topping? Ewww. Not at all appetising. An Irish co-worker of mine commented that as a nation, NZ appears to be obsessed with the meat pie. I'm not sure what this implies.
Also, isn't "Fetta" supposed to be spelt "Feta"?
Still, the spicy chicken looks nice, even if it was generally agreed by my colleagues that Domino's is the least preferred pizza option available. 'Hell' appears most requested, with the late 'Eagle Boys' (formerly 'Stallones', bought out and replaced by Pizza Hut) coming a close second. The spicy chicken has black olives, which you generally can't go wrong with.
Wondering if comment like this is unwittingly part of Domino's marketing strategy.....

***

Went to our regular Wednesday night quiz fix at Murphy's Law tonight. It's a tough competition when you can score 92 out of 110 and still only come third. Still, there were only three of us in the team, so that makes us smarter on a per member average.

***

Seem to be having trouble controlling and editing font size. Reminds me of post defrost Austin Powers: I'm having trouble controlling the volume of my voice.

Corrupting Macy Gray

Listening to: Weezer-Weezer (the blue album)

In 1999 Macy Gray released "I Try", and it became a hit. You may know it.

The chorus goes something like this:

I try to say goodbye and I choke,
Try to walk away and I stumble,
Though I try to hide it, it's clear,
My world crumbles when you are not here.

However, if you are in Fish and Sam's presence, it tends to go something like this:

I try to say goodbye and I choke,
Try to walk away I blow bubbles,
Though I try to hide it, it's clear,
I blow bubbles when you are not here.

For full effect, sing it in a gravelly Yoda does karaoke after half a bottle of Jim Beam and a pack of cigarettes voice.

Happy Anniversary

It's a dark and stormy night at Castle Kelson.

Well it is. It's night, and therefore dark, and there is a fair old northwesterly gale blowing about. Still, being a northerly, it is a warm wind, so it is not as cold as it should be.

I have the feeling winter is going to break any day now however.

Today is 6th of June. It is the 63rd anniversary of "Debarkation Day", more commonly referred to as "D-Day", or in more specific circles, "Operation Overlord". The largest seaborne invasion in history commenced as the Allies landed on French beaches to begin the liberation of Occupied Europe from Nazi rule.

As significant an event as that is, personally it pales in importance next to something that happened on the same day 26 years later.

In a church in Wellington, a wedding occured. Today is my parents 37th wedding anniversary. Having only been married myself 2 and a half years, that figure is both inspirational and almost unfathomable.

I don't even know if they read this blog but I would like to use this opportunity to say:
Cheers Mum and Dad! On ya!

Great Artist, Crap Song!

Listening to: Buffalo Tom-A-sides (the best of). Continuing my indy-ish alternative-ish lounging.

Just watched the top 10 of the above U-choose top 40, and once again find myself disagreeing with the picks, as is my wont.

That said, I can't really disagree with the Black Eyed Peas 'My Humps' being at number one, although for me you could put any Blacked Eyed Peas song at number one and I wouldn't care. I don't heart the Black Eyed Peas at all. Over-rated and over-hyped. Can't argue with 'St Anger' by Metallica placing highly either (number 3).

But Queen's 'Fat-Bottomed Girls' at number 2? Thats a frickin' great song! There are many way worse Queen songs than that (Like, I dunno, 'We are the Champions', 'Friends will be Friends', 'One Vision', actually pretty much half of the 'A kind of magic' album).

And 'Lemon' by U2 at number 9. I like 'Lemon'. Not the best U2 single ever ('The Fly' is a strong contender for that nomination), but not crap by any means. I would have nominated 'The Sweetest Thing'. Yerghh.

The Red Hot Chili Peppers creaked in to number 4 with 'Snow', which again isn't a terrible song, given that their last decent single was 'Can't Stop' (or what ever it is called). 'Aeroplane' or 'Rollercoaster' are better (worse) substitutes.

The Eminem song about arses featuring Triumph the Dog at number 5 was just plain weird.

As you do when watching this kind of thing, I started compiling my own least favourite songs by my favourite artists. I didn't get very far though. While my CD collection is large, I am choosy, so I tend to like almost everything I listen to. I also forget songs I don't like until I am listening to them, whereupon I immediately remember why I don't like them and skip to the next track.

However:
'Daughter' by Pearl Jam. Average single off a great album, mediocrity enhanced by saturation radio play by conservative mainstream radio stations who wouldn't play any other Pearl Jam song ever (at a time when they could still be considered 'alternative'. Whatever that meant).

Tried to think of a bad Shihad song. Couldn't, even when including 'Pacifier'. A mediocre Shihad album is still a Shihad album.

Tried the Afghan Whigs. No luck there either.

'Take it Back' by Pink Floyd. Thats hardly sporting though, picking a crap song off 'The Division Bell' is like shooting fish in a barrel.

This could go on all night. But it won't. I may revisit it later.

Model silliness

Listening to: Better Than Ezra: Greatest Hits. Felt like listening to some alternative-ish indie-ish 90's rock tonight.

Making models of planes as I have done for umpteen years is a good way to learn almost completely irrelevant things about them. Below, left to right, is an A-4 Skyhawk, a MiG-25 Foxbat, and an Avro Vulcan, all in 1:72 scale.
One of the things noticed is that the Skyhawk is tiny for a combat plane, and the MiG is fairly huge. In fact, the planform of the Skyhawk will fit entirely inside that of the MiG. The Foxbat on the other hand, fits entirely within the Vulcan.
Ever wanted to see a Skyhawk stacked on a Foxbat stacked on a Vulcan? Now you have......
Sometimes I have too much time on my hands....

I quite like the Foxbat. It has an old school design brutality about it. Developed in the 60's by the Soviets to counter a high speed bomber the US tested but never put into service, it is a pure interceptor rather than a multirole fighter.

Everything about the way it looks shouts 'speed above everything else'. The wing is a simple thin slab (with no aerodynamic concessions to manouvreability), built for speed. The engines are huge and powerful, again for speed. Capable of flying at nearly 3 times the speed of sound it was the only thing that could come close to intercepting the near mythical SR-71 Blackbird reconnaisance aircraft. It was the inspiration for the 'Firefox' novel and movie.

I like it from a design point of view because it is completely uncompromised. It is designed to do one thing and one thing only.

Quiet

Listening to: The quiet house. Apart from rats nibbling on things and ripping paper, Moreporks in the distance, and Fi sneezing.

Introducing
I thought a while ago I would describe exactly who is who on my blogroll, but then I realised that most of you know each other anyway, so it would be kinda pointless.

I can however, almost guarantee no-one knows fair Lauren, being that she is Canadian, and currently resides in said Canada. That said, she will no doubt meet most of the local crew when she arrives at chez Kelson (that is, my chez Kelson, not Judge+Jurys chez Kelson, which is actually Stretch's chez Kelson) in mid July for a four month stay as our houseguest.

Also added today is the Alligator, who needs little introduction. I am slowly spreading the word of nails.

The man who formely used to drive me to many places in a Red Trueno whilst barefoot joins us.

As does the lovely Miss M.

Spanblather for some of the 'others do intelligent commentary much better than I can' (hey I can quote myself on my own blog if I want) relevance, and to keep me informed on various things.

Plus a couple of webcomics in the interest links I have been pointed to lately, and an old favourite (Laughs 1, 2, 3).

And sadly, a moment of silence, a raised glass and a bowed head to the creator of the brilliant Rest area 300, who it would appear is no longer among us.

Cheers Dodderyoldfart. I very much enjoyed your work, and thank you for sharing it with us.

Rituals

Listening to Fi watch CSI on TV. Ostensibly Crime Scene Investigation, but more often Crap Science Insulting my intelligence. Still, it does have KC from KC in it.

These things become ritualised.

Check the nails to make sure they are short enough. Find the right socks. Left shoe on first, then the right. Tape over the ear-ring so it can't catch a unwary finger. Find some shorts and a t-shirt that is ready to go into the wash.

Pack the bag. All the usual stuff, plus a water bottle, maybe a sweatband or bandanna if its hot. If its cold, you put on extra layers. Then you hit the road.

The city unfolds before you on the motorway, then just when you seem about to dive into its heart, you skip off to one side. Occasionally you'll nip into the city to pick someone up, but you want to make it quick, like a burglar or panic shopper, get, make the pick up, get out. Wait too long on the side of the road and you'll get antsy, especially if the traffic is still heavy.

Your mind is on whats going to happen in the next hour or so. The drive up Hanson Street, with its speed humps, can seem endless if your're in a hurry. Turn right into Hall Street, then right again to go up the too narrow driveway, with its too tall speed hump at the top that will scrape the underside of your car if you go straight over it. Find a park, near the door or up by Te Whaea if you're lucky and don't want too far to walk later when you are tired and sweaty and maybe injured.

You can hear the sound of whistles and umpires calls, and the beeps as the scoreboards register points. You pass the smokers huddled outside. You don't remember the first time you came here; it is long enough ago not to matter anymore. This place is intimately familiar to you now.

Entering the building, there is the familiar aroma of stale cigarette smoke and fried food as you pass through the door. From the relative peace outside you are assaulted by bright lights, usually a small crowd milling around the registration desk, the noise of games and music.

Once in, you look up to the left to check the chalkboard for the court you have been assigned. In winter you want the upstairs courts with the sprung floorboards, as heat rises and the courts will be warm. In summer they will be shoe melting, eye stingingly hot and humid, and the downstairs courts will be your preference.

You check in with your team, pay your money, get your bibs, and wait. You watch the game ahead of you and check who the umpire is, and try to figure out what sort of mood they're in. If your opponents are milling around, you check them out too. Do they look onto it or clueless? Have you met them before? Have you defeated them before? Are they clean or dirty players?

Warm up if you have the chance. If you sprain a finger with a wedding ring on it, there is a good chance the ring will have to be cut off once the swelling sets in, so it is removed, along with your watch.

The game in front of you ends. You rush onto the court to grab the ball, so you can have some practice with your team in the few minutes before the game starts, and deny your opposition the chance to throw the match ball around.

If your opposition are particularly clueless and disorganised, they won't be ready. Your team is already on the court and ready, they are stuffing around, and if the clock has started, wasting precious gametime. You're all psyched up and no place to go.

Get your eye in with some shots at goal, and warm your hands up. The umpire checks your fingernails and jewelry aren't dangerous, and calls for the ball.

Players take their positions, and two centres meet at halfway for the toss. The clock starts, the whistle blows, and the ball is thrown.

The game begins...

more with the accent thing

This was rather serendipitous after my recent blather about accents.

TV3 news item today about how the Kiwi Accent is evolving.

Ahh Philip Sherry. Now theres a sensible no-nonsense newsreader if ever there was one.

Plus comments from some rather excitable types.

In other news, it was discovered at the weekend that our new 50 and 20 cent pieces are simply crap for use in table rugby. Too small and too light.

Revision

Listening to: World Party-Private Revolution

The hardest part about writing a blog I have found is not convincing others to read it, but convincing myself it is worth reading.

That said, I quite like some of the stuff I have come up with.

Here are my favourite posts from my first year (it occurs to me that this could become an annual tradition) revisited.

The ghost car of state highway 2

Mosh pit etiquette

The Bakery Cult

The Challenge

The Tao of indoor netball

Taking 'Snakes on a plane' altogether too seriously

My uncle Harry

A week of looking at Wellington

The southern Sojourn, 1, 2, 3

The Levin roadtrip

Comet chasing

Love and Hate

Love your accent

Listening to: The Fragile-Nine Inch Nails

Lauren, our Canadian soon to be housemate sent us a list of kiwi slang (linky) for verification. It is surprisingly accurate. I say surprisingly, because most lists I have seen of this kind tend to be completely archaic. That said, I have never heard or used 'Boohai' in a conversation, nor have I encountered 'Tata' lately in any context other than humorous. I have been to Eketahuna though.

Laurens comments about accents here got me to thinking. Is it possible to write in an accent? I'm not talking Irvine Welsh/Trainspotting phonetic dialectical style here, but a more subtle thing in terms of phraseology or dialect that imparts a regional characteristic.

As evidenced here I apparently handwrite like a boy. I am curious if there is anything in the way I type or express that marks me as a New Zealander.

Which brings us in a roundabout way to vocal accents. I love accents, I love hearing them and then trying to decipher where exactly they are from. I like my own accent, even though it does tend to mangle softer consonants like 'l's.

It was amusing to read Lauren describing my accent as 'heavy'. I would consider it mid range personally as kiwi accents go, but then I seldom get to hear myself speak, and cringe when I do, so I am not sure I have any basis for comparison. I can have two accents depending on the company. I use my normal accent (which I think of as the lazy one) for general conversation and such, and reserve a slightly more focussed, clear, clipped and 'proper' accent for more formal occasions like talking to a room full of people or job interviews.

Laurens canadian accent is interesting. It is a fairly neutral (to my ears) classic northern american accent, but with clear british and french influences, which perhaps you'd expect in Canada. It is odd to my ears to hear a north american voice use 'mum' instead of 'mom'. The use of 'no' at the end of a question (e.g. you were going out, no?) sounds french, Rich (whose mother is french and is a fluent french speaker himself) and I decided.

The New Zealand (and its sibling, the Australian) accents are apparently a mix of various UK accents. I'm not a linguist, but this seems borne out to me by listening to those UK accents. At times a word will be said in exactly the same way as a New Zealander would. In the same way, at times UK words will be pronounced the same way a north american would.

I'm not sure either New Zealand or Australia have been english speaking long enough to develop strong regional accents. The only readily identifiable NZ english sub accent is from the southern South Island, which was largely settled by Scots, hence resulting in a pronounced rolled R (e.g I went to worrrk on the farrrm). By the same token, you could expect Dannevirke in the norhern Wairarapa to have a scandinavian influenced accent, although I have never met anyone from Dannevirke so don't know if this holds true. I have no idea if there are regional Maori accents. I think there may be some dialects though.

Another aspect of accents that is interesting to me is how some people can hold on to theirs indefinitely, while others lose them. I think my own accent is extremely malleable. After spending six days in Los Angeles as a teenager I noted myself starting to use californian phrases and inflections. My father is from Durham in Northen England, and the accent he grew up with is almost unintelligible on first encountering it, being not only very strong, but littered with the sort of dialect that can vary from town to town in the UK. That said, having lived in New Zealand since 1963, his accent has almost disappeared. Fi disagrees, saying he has a very strong accent, but all I can pick up is some elongation of certain vowels.

Maybe I should have been a linguist. I appear to have a gift for it.

Another aspect of talking to Lauren got me wondering about the etymolgy of certain phrases. The phrase "Getting along like a house on fire" entered my head more than once. Now the intended meaning is obvious, you get on well and enjoy the interaction, but the literal meaning? How does a burning house relate to a conversation?

"They got done like a dogs dinner" also causes confusion, as does 'Pack a sad'. Again, the intended meaning is obvious (if you've grown up with them, sorry Lauren!), but I'm not sure how they got to where they are as common phrases.

This has almost nothing to do with the above, but I'm closing with it as it is a nice piece of demonstrating flexible meanings. Its a quote from an irish soldier in a book I read once referring to a piece of equipment that was not working as intended:

"F*ck! The f*cking f*ckers f*cking f*cked!"

Hmm

The comments label stubbornly refuses to appear for the previous post, no matter what combination of trickery and option resetting I try.

One year on

Listening to: Tears for Fears best of

My blog turns one year old today.

157 posts.

At least 50 odd "Listening to's".

Oodles of comments.

Some nice piccies.

Thoughts, expressions and imaginings.

Thanks to all who have read and said nice things, and all the nice folk I have encountered through doing this. I had no grand scheme for it when I started, and still don't, but I like the way it has turned out.

I was going to highlight a favourite post, but need some time to ponder it. Watch this space. Well actually the space somewhere up the page where it will turn up.

Errata
Just in case anyone didn't get the Ribena reference in the last episode, GlaxoSmithKline, Ribena's parent company were recently heavily fined in New Zealand after a high school science project showed that the vitamin C levels in their product were somewhat less than the advertising gave the impression of.
Snap!

Aww, pretty!

There are two prevailing winds in the Wellington Region. One is a fearsome south/southeasterly, direct from Antarctica (often referred to as a lazy wind, as it tends to travel straight through you rather than bothering to go around).

The other is a north/northwesterly generated by large masses of air attempting to penetrate the gap in New Zealands mountain ranges that is Cook Strait.

On occasion, the northerly will condense as it passes over the northern reach of Cook Strait, leaving the lower North Island covered in cloud. As the cloud cover is incomplete, there is a clear air gap at the horizon, allowing the cloud to be lit from below, at say, sunset.

Looking roughly southwest it can be seen that the cloud stops pretty much where the island does (for those non-familiar with Welly geography, the distant mountains in the bottom right of the picture slope down to the sea on the other side).

I love how sunsets fill your house with warm reflected and refracted light.

In other news

I've been meaning to post about this for a while. As someone who enjoys a good sky, I think this is interesting, and this is a great idea.

Ribena is in damage control mode by the looks.

All together now : BWAAHAHAHAHAHA! One suspects they are still cleaning the bloodstains off the walls of their quality and marketing departments.

Build it and win

Listening to: Kings of Leon-Because of the times

So rather than just attend the Model Expo in Lower Hutt this weekend, as entries were open to the general public I thought I would enter some of my work instead of just admiring others. I know there are great modellers out there who exhibit excellent stuff, and I don't consider myself one of them, so I thought I would make up the numbers

Judge+Jury generously loaned me the Starfury I built him as a birthday present.



I also put out a couple of Skyhawks (which have previously graced the pages of this blog) and a Lightning (the grey pointy one) which I thought looked good. I was way surprised when the Skyhawks were awarded 2nd and 3rd in their category. Okay, so there were only five models in their category, and three of them were mine, so I was at least guaranteed a third place. But getting two awards is kinda stoking!
As occasionally happens with my surname, I became a Hill for a while, until Fi got it changed. I didn't really care, the unexpected award was nice enough. I got a couple of certificates, some decals, and a model I had been thinking of buying at some point, which was cool. Also in a fine example of geek humour, this was spotted in a line up of tanks.

Ups and downs

Listening another comp. "Must go faster". A comp of very fast and up songs to drive/motivate/cheer up to. Like say "I wanna be a nudist" by Regurgitator and "Ty Cobb" by Soundgarden, and "Dirty Beats" by Roni Size and Reprazent.

Realised a couple of things this week.

1. I am somewhat stressed. The primary cause of that stress is my job.
2. I am merely doing my job properly for the sake of professionalism and perfectionism, not because I am actually interested in it anymore.
3. My head has a big bundle of negative energy (I can actually feel the tension between my eyes. Feels like a sinus headache) in it at the moment, which expresses by popping up terrifying thoughts at random moments.
4. This scared me until I realised it is just my brain trying to unload.
5. However, this has not stopped me from being worried about being stressed, which doesn't really help matters.

I am determined to find a new job, and actually do it this time, not like three or four other times I have said that in the past couple of years. If any of you who know me personally come across anything that strikes you as perfect for me, let me know. Tips, suggestions welcome.
Something that lets me not work nights and weekends preferred.

Had a good game of netball tonight. OK, so the opposition was all inexperienced girls on the court (where were their menfolk?), and they were all shorter than me, so in a sense it was clubbing baby seals, but it was the endorphinic game I needed.

I have been notified that I now form a small part of the ever interesting spanblather. Thank you span, I hope I don't disappoint. That goes for any spannerers that journey here from there.

Welcome.