Earth-shattering Thoughts?

Some people think the earth under Christchurch is angry.

I was thinking of this on the way to work this morning, and suddenly had a different perspective on it.

What if, ya know, the earth under Christchurch is sick? What if she has projectile vomiting - you know - the sort where even if you know it's coming, you can't stop the event or the force of it? Maybe she's mortified by her lack of control. Perhaps she's trying to suppress the little burps and the big farts but she can't stop what's determined to come out! Every time there's a big scary one she's wanting to apologise - but she can't!

Market Highs

I toddled off to the market outside Riccarton House on Saturday - for the first time since the February quake, I think. The House is covered in scaffolding but it's still there, large as life (at least, it was on Saturday, before yesterday's wobbles). It was a June morning so not tropical, but not beastly cold either. I have learnt to go on my own, as I can relax (no-one beside me looking bored) and concentrate on my choices (no-one trying to chit-chat).

Oh joy! Two firsts for the Riccarton Market (quakes aren't all bad!) the cheesemonger had his truck there - I bought a whopping lump of English Stilton. Oh bliss! The Volcano Cafe (recently demolished in Lyttelton) had a stand with all the old favourites - huge succulent olives, artichokes in lemon and garlic, mushroom and port pate, tapenades, stuffed bell peppers, and more. I'm pretty sure it was Liz Braggins manning the stand - but I was too shy to suggest that she sing. Would have been cool though. I did establish that they still have the stand at the Lyttelton Market, so no need to feel guilty about pinching them.

I left - delightfully weighted down by a marvellous sense of well-being, two fully-laden bags, and an empty wallet.