At the time of writing this, there’s four days to go until Christmas Day. It’s been a year of some change for me, where I’ve been learning to adjust to semi-retirement. Or, as the Spanish call being retired – and which I much prefer the look and sound of – jubilada. I’ve had both some intense and interesting times this year, and some twiddling my thumbs times. All in all, I must say I’m getting used to the idea of a good portion of my time being at my own disposal now, and liking that freedom very much.
That new freedom has me pondering on doing a wee road trip sometime in the early months of next year. A couple of women friends have recently moved to places south of Christchurch – one to Peel Forest, population 150, which also includes the wider area it’s located in; and one further south to Alexandra, with a bigger population of 6,150. A quick drop-in visit to each could be the perfect excuse for a nice trip. A newer car for myself is also on the agenda in the not-too-distant future, so I may be taking that along for the ride, too.
I’d like to get a slightly bigger car than what I have now, which is a Toyota Aqua hybrid, but the size of my garage tends to dictate the size of the car I can have. However, I’ll see what I can get once I start scoping out the car yards seriously. I’ve only had a perfunctory look so far, as I hate shopping – any kind of shopping.
My ten-year-old twin grand-nieces don’t seem to have got the anti-shopping gene, as our expedition to the mall proved. School’s broken up for the summer holidays now, and I recently had them for the day while their parents were still at work. The girls were keen to go shopping for Christmas presents, so we went to the mall. I have to say I admired their no-nonsense approach to it. First on the agenda were the Christmas presents, which – beware, spoiler alert – comprised of getting bags of lollies for everyone, with one lucky recipient getting a block of chocolate instead. Having done and dusted that job in short order, they had enough money left over to then tend to their own needs of getting glue-on fancy fingernails from the cheap shit shop. All that shopping made them hungry, so sushi for an early lunch was next on the list, with a hair trim decided upon after that.
Then the mall fire alarm went off, and everyone had to exit. Seeing that human exodus made me realise just how many people can be in a mall! It was a false alarm, and when we were allowed back in, the hair trims were postponed in favour of going to see the movie ‘Wicked’. I had no idea that movie was so long! A gruelling 2 hours and 40 minutes musical. Musicals are clever, but if one is non-musical like me, they’re also a tad tedious. Nevertheless, I loaded the girls up with popcorn and Pepsi, like a ‘wicked’ grand-auntie does, and we took our seats.
We weren’t far into it before one twin decided it was tad tedious, too. Seizing the opportunity, I asked if she wanted to escape, to which she readily agreed. So, she and I scarpered to do other things, and left the other twin there soaking up the movie, with arrangements to meet her afterwards.
Not all the girls’ activities are based around malls and screens, though. They have ponies now, and although they got iPads for their tenth birthday, which mesmerise them when they’re on those devices, they also have lots of real-world activity, too. Before the ponies, they did gymnastics for two or three years. Their parents are determined that neither they nor their brother will be screen-junkies, so they’re an active family. It’s really heartening to see how strong and fit the kids are from the physical activity they do. They’re all doing well at school, too, no doubt helped by that.
When I dropped the girls back to their home, my niece gave me some vegan fudge she’d bought for me from a workmate who makes it. Jaysus, it was dangerous stuff! I decided to have a tiny test nibble on it when I got back into my car to drive home, and by the time I got there – ten minutes away – it was all gone. In my defence, although there really is little defence for being a guts, it was only a small quantity.
In a further creative-thinking moment drummed up to minimise my sin of excess, in my opinion it was a small-time sin compared to the ‘sin’ of the Ponsonby Business Association in Auckland publicly erecting a Santa in frilly pink panties and fishnets a couple of years ago.
Whilst I haven’t exactly been the goodest-girl-ever during my life, I really can’t get on board with the growing tendency to display fetishes in public where children can see them, under the guise of progressiveness and acceptance of a person’s ‘identity’. Broadly speaking, what consenting adults do in private is not my concern, but who in their right mind thinks that this is okay for kids? Adults, and some older kids, may have a giggle at it, and accuse others who don’t of prudery, but seeing as this Santa hasn’t been erected again, I’d say I’m not the only so-called prude who thought that as a public display it was off.
Unlike being glad to see the back of the Ponsonby Santa, I was sad to see the last of my Qigong classes last week. Qigong is like a simpler form of Tai Chi, and much to my delight I discovered a small class just around the road from me about a year and half ago. It was one of those situations where what I got out of it was more than the sum of its parts. If I was to try and explain that more fully, I expect I’d struggle. However, our delightfully informal Qigong teacher has had a change of circumstances, which meant she’s had to stop taking those particular classes, but she also teaches Tai Chi, and if you happen to live in Christchurch NZ and looking for a Tai Chi teacher, I highly recommend her. I admit that at first it took me a wee while to get used to her casual style, but when I did, it was when I began getting more out of the classes than just what the movements bring. I suspect I won’t take up another Qigong class elsewhere, as this has the end of an era and new horizons feel about it to me. But, situations and circumstances are never set in concrete, so we shall see.
Lastly, in more matters not related to Christmas, but related to the seemingly growing emergence of a few wayward ways within me (joke – I think) – albeit somewhat tamer than that of a man in fishnets and frilly panties on full display in public – I’m having a hard time making myself affix a fancy hook I bought a while ago to the back of my bedroom door. Not only do I find myself without the right-sized screw for it, as it helpfully came without that, but I made the mistake of hooking it over my tallboy dresser as a reminder of a ‘must do’. Unfortunately, once I did that, it tickled my fancy with its bat-like appearance from behind, and now I’m enjoying it too much as a piece of inadvertent installation art to do the correct thing with it just yet.
Maybe that correct thing will come about, maybe not. What a rebel I’m becoming, eh? Hahahahaha – I wish! However, maybe some baby-rebel steps aren’t a bad way with which to go into 2025.
Merry Christmas and Happy New year to all 😊
A B'Old Woman 