the weekend: all the world's a stage

Tim, Lynette and Tony enjoy their pasta


Later in the spa


with a "Festival of new arts" poster



Mt Ruapehu





Lake Taupo at sunset


Just spent the weekend in Palmerston North with friends Tony, Lynette and Tim - our excuse being that we were there to see the "world" premiere of my short play "Mask" which was produced as part of the Manawatu Festival of New Arts.

Of course, we didn't spend *all* our time being arts buffs.. we also spent a goodly proportion being spa, garden, cafe and windmill buffs. Oh, and a fair amount of time was also spent cooking, eating, drinking wine and just generally working hard at doing nothing, as fast as possible. A few times we were nearly caught out by the early closing times in Palmy, affecting restaurants, supermarkets etc.... meaning a quick dash to the supermarket at one stage to avoid having to rely on greasy takeaways for an evening meal. Luckily I chose my traveling companions well. Tony and Tim did all the driving while Lynette and I managed the kitchen (don't worry, we made the boys do the dishes.)

Mask

Rain, rain, go away

It's been raining all day. The day is a blurred haze. I've been out and about, running to my usual rash of meetings, hellos, inbox contacts (the weekend was bliss without any need of these). Now my umbrella is drying over the potplants and I am staring out the window, trying to will myself into a state of mind suitable for going to the gym.

In April, I paid $250 for a year's student membership to the uni gym. That's about the cheapest price you could pay for an all-included service, but of course, it's only cheap if you actually use it enough times. Which is part of the reason gym memberships are so pricey - they figure if your brain won't make you go, maybe your wallet guilt might.

Anyway, I'm not really blogging about exercise or any of its associated guilts. I'm blogging about the rain. Rain should be good for writing, if you think about it: the soft misty haze evokes dew-soaked excursions into nature, a loved one preferably by one's side; the clumsier thumping of raindrops pulls back memories of sitting inside primary school classrooms listening to stories. At the very least rain should keep us from going out so we have more time to spend with our professed love, the blank page.

But in really, rain has a kind of - pardon this - dampening effect on things. I watch the rain, remember its feel on my skin and go duuuuuh. I drift off into reveries imagining what I'll write on my blog without doing any of the other writing that's piling up in sullen snowdrifts behind me.

And no, I still didn't go to the gym.