3 in a boat in march

You couldn’t have choreographed a more amusing shot as ma and her two brothers clambered into their dingy to finally scatter Gran’s ashes at sea.

In the harsh NZ sun all 3 ginger snuts have always been fastidious hat wearers and today was no different but with a bowler, a sombrero and a panama in the boat the rest of the family watching from the bank could barely contain their laughter. It was a great way to start the day.

The air was giggly, Gran would have loved it.

Once they were all safely in the boat uncle d dip dappled his oars out into the bay with the view of the harbour bridge in the distance. 

And still we were amused.

Sufficiently far from the shore and uncle geoff fiddled with the box lock for such a time we all feared it would never open and then all of a sudden a wee cloud of ash began it’s steady stream into the ocean.

Gran was a fabulous woman. Kind, warm, interesting. The oceans belly is the perfect resting place. When I was living in the UK she would paint a card and write her letter inside. When they arrived it would take Pete and I a half hour to decipher her near illegible handwriting. One whole half of her bed was always covered in newspapers, books, magazines, dictionaries and encyclopaedias. The first thing she would do when she woke up was reach for her little plastic round hairbrush and fix her hair. When you walked into a room she never forgot to smile at you, it was always an open mouthed smile like she’d just said the words ‘ha-hey you’re here!’ and she’d stretch out her hand towards you. She laughed all the time.

Everyone threw flowers on the waves, some of us shouted goodbye and some applauded and then the 3 in the boat wibble wobbled back to shore.

Then it was time to eat. Picnics are possibly my most favourite past time in the whole world.

Pot luck lunch is always cracking in the Tyler, Connolly clan and this was no exception.

Couple of family portraits although we’re missing quite a few of us. Pete was away on business in Oz save you scanning for him :(

And then Ben, Li Fen and I took Nova off for a rendition of Labyrinth Baby.

…You remind me of the babe, what babe, the babe with the power, what power? the power of voodoo, who do? you do, do what? remind me of the baaaaabe -  DANCE! Dance magic dance, dance magic, put that baby spell on you. Jump, Jump magic Jump, jump magic jump… David Bowie eh?

 

 

It’s hard not to just eat her up. munch munch.

BACK from the dead.

I like tricks. Jokes. People making fools of themselves deliberately or otherwise. My favourite tv show is Americas Funniest Videos, or AFV in our now acronym savvy society. Makes me laugh so hard, sometimes I even have to hold my tummy like the laughs just gonna jump right outta there. The funniest ones are people falling off or over stuff, makes me split I tell you. There's this new one where you can buy a fake scratchy that when you scratch it it says you've won a million bucks and people give it to their dad, nan, ma, sibling at christmas and record them going hysterical nuts to have won and then tell them it's fake. Pure gold.

Anyway, in July last year Gran died.
Today, I got this in the post.



Incase you can't read it it says:
'Dear Amber, I found this spare key in my pocket when I got up here. Love from Gran'. It's in her hand writing although back in the days when her handwriting was actually legible.

I got it, opened it, knew it was from mum, laughed at how clever she would be thinking she was and rang her.

Just incase you think mums a sadist Pete and I pranked her good last April fools when we were living at hers. While mum and I went out for a morning walk pete drove the car round the corner, left a note on the bench to say he'd left me and hid upstairs. I spent our half hour walk telling mum how tough the move to NZ had been and that Pete and I were really unhappy and not working out. When we got home I let her enter the kitchen to read the note first. Her voice shook when she told me 'I'd better come read this'. We pranked it all the way upstairs with me running ahead of her and screaming back that all pete's stuff had gone only to have him jump up from behind the bed 'TA-DA!' She just about slogged me in the face.

The day before, mum and I had got pete a treat too calling on his CPR skills for a fake accident, making him run out of the house terrified but driven. So I can't blame mum for thinking it's about my turn.

When I rang, the phone went through to voicemail and I had the second best idea I've ever had. DOUBLE-PRANK! and so on the spur of the moment I left a hysterical voicemail about 'some freaky stuff, making you question everything you ever thought about life and death and I really need to talk to you now!'. ah hahahahaha I am already laughing at my own pure genius.

Mum called back and guess what that woman's just tried on? Only a bloody TRIPLE-PRANK. She let my hysteria run on the phone, focussing my dilerium into a potential prophecy of an existing god! I decided it had gone to far and dropped into conversation that god must be giving gran hand writing lessons and she went quiet but I KNOW she was doing silent laugh and said perhaps she sits next to Jesus at school.

The big question is what do I do now? Dare I quadruple prank, fast track the insanity and rub faeces on my face while scribbling on the walls or possibly worse, admit on this occasion, I've lost...

The mother's day sphinx

Ma, Lou and I meet up all the time. There are plenty of excuses for lunch, brunch, breakfast, coffee, walks, movies, library forages, can you come fix...?, look at, admire, help choose outfit for... moments. But rarely do the three of us take ourselves out for dinner and since it was Mothers Day on Sunday Lou insisted on a cracking Italian in Devonport.

At 6 we headed into the Patriot for a glass of wine and propped up the bar swapping 'my fella' stories before wandering across the road to the Restaurant. As we approached we were delighted to see a window full of people at cosy tables, drinking wine and eating from great platers of food and we smiled with expectation until Lou spotted that the name was different and she'd in fact booked the Restaurant next door. bum.

We filed in past the young greek waiter with a handlebar moustache, sat down and eyed up the specials board. Mum asked us what 'cavaldier' was and unknowing Lou called over the waiter.
'Hi, um, can you tell me what cavaldier is please?' She says.
'ah yes,....' he says and looking firmly at me he begins to answer Lou's question. It was very odd suddenly being the sole recipient of someone else's question but I nodded, um-hmmed, yep, oh right as he spoke. Lou began to chuckle next to me forcing me to hold tight to the corners of my own mouth until he'd left.
'he didn't even look at me!' she blurted,
'nor me', stated ma.
Minutes later the waiter came back to take our order, having read the title of the restaurant to be Nicollinos Mum said,
'does Nicollino still work here?'
Our waiter looked down at the table and as his head came up his eyes fixed again firmly on my face. I began my nodding routine while mum and lou looked at each other confused. Mum whispered to lou in her 'no one can hear me' voice that everyone can totally hear,
'he still just looking at her'.
Lou started laughing. My grin spread across my face like a cheshire cat but I managed to hold back the girgle till he'd gone again. I have concluded I'm like some kind of sphinx. I'm going to practice consequential riddles on Pete.

Suffice to say the food was excellent, halfway through our meal our waiter brought us shots of Ouzo and Lou and I recalled an Ouzo night at a London comedy club when I'd turned to explain my irritation at truely seeing double only to find lou squinting through one eye trying to sort out her own vision.













































A perfect evening. The waiter kindly choreographed some pics and we left with promises to return every thursday for their band and ouzo nights where dancing on the bar are a pre-requisite. It was the, 'if you want to see a fat man dance...' comment that got me to acquiesce ;)