It's been the longest and dreariest term I can remember.
ELEVEN F*CKING WEEKS.
Thanks to the rugby-mad Kiwi government and Trevor Mallard in particular (when he was in power with Labour) they altered all the terms this year to fit in with the Rugby World Cup (RWC).
Naaah. Go the All Blacks and have a cheese and steak pie, she'll be right mate.
Sometimes I pine for the gentle sophistication of Bonny Scotland.
As I said, compared to young, innocent New Zealand, the Scottish culture is multi-faceted. Every Scot KNOWS we will always lose at soccer; as long as England loses as well, then that small satisfaction keeps the cockles of our hearts warm and cosy. The whisky helps as well.
But New Zealand is Rugby-obsessed, and there wasn't even any real discussion about the school term changes, it was accepted that everything would be sacrificed on the altar of RWC success.
The weather has also been a bit odd. We haven't had that much really cold weather, but we've been having periods of chilly winds and then it gets warm again, and this has really opened the floodgates of every infectious disease known to man.
|They've got WHAT?|
But the paddocks are looking good. (For non-Kiwis, a paddock is not a field to keep cattle-beasts, but a place to play the Holy Game of Rugby)
But we survived.
I genuinely believe that it was only the regular and repeated infusion of blessed usquebaugh that kept me trudging on. Thanks to Valley Girl for a very much appreciated donation of a 1.125 Litre bottle of Grouse and to the lovely "The Mill" for reducing the price of a litre of Ballantynes to $26 (about £12.80) so I could keep the stocks at a reasonable level.
On a final note, I've just seen on the Interweb thingy that the ENGLISH rugby team has elected to wear AN ALL BLACK strip as their alternative playing strip while in NZ. I think they've just gone mad.
|Completely off their heads|
Mad as a meat axe
Daft as a chook