"Sausage tweezers" ... My husband wanted me to pass him the cooking tongs.
Down to earth and resonable.
On the down low
"A ploy by AT to collect more parking fees?" wonders Marion. "this sign in Howick is at the bottom of pole, impossible to see if you are in a car."
Surprise, surprise
Yvonne Flynn from Orewa writes: "A few years ago I decided to offer my services at my local hospice shop on the North Shore to try and give back a little of what my late husband had received on his cancer journey. What a good choice – plenty of good company, fun and camaraderie. Everybody was just known by their first names and not knowing anybody's past history, conversations were mainly about current happenings and what it is like to get old. I worked with a nice refined lady called Susie who had evidently been an international air hostess and knew all the posh clothing brands and quality of goods. Sometimes we just crossed over in a change from morning to afternoon shifts or sometimes we shared the same work table opposite one another. After a couple of years, Susie approached me one day and said: 'Did you used to live in Howick' ... Yes... 'In Suchnsuch Road' ... Yes. 'Oh' she said. 'I lived opposite you and babysat your children.' Amazing. We were talking six decades back when Howick was just a village and Pakuranga was all farmland – hardly a house to be seen. I remember her as a slim pretty blonde 15-year-old schoolgirl and I was a mid-twenties young mother with three children under 3-and-a-half years so having a babysitter so close was a bonus. I floated through the next few weeks in utter amazement at one of life's connections but had to inform Susie that the eldest child she looked after then was now about to turn 60."
