After retiring from audiology some years ago, Susan’s finding life’s pretty good with lots of time to do what she likes. That includes walking, reading, having coffee with friends, and a bit of activism thrown in. Also, day by day doing her best not to worry too much over the many threats to our gorgeous planet.
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Meet Trevor. He’s had quite a colourful career, from his early days as a pub manager in Tunbridge Wells he went on to become Dunedin’s leading auctioneer. Trevor is a published author and was something of a TV personality in the 1980s as a regular panellist on a show about antiques.
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Emily is very loud, and has really bad taste in cheesy pop music. When not at work flogging goods to the public via advertising and marketing campaigns, she can be found hiding from her partner and children at the local pub. If you’re easily offended or don’t appreciate the constant use of profanities, then you probably shouldn’t read Emily’s posts. You have been warned!
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Angela has had many roles in her life including: schoolgirl, student, daughter, friend, civil servant, wife, lover, mother, manager, magistrate, landlady, teacher, grandmother, blogger, editor and proofreader.
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Some Day My Prince Will Come Actually he’s just been and I can’t really say I’m wild about the event. He seems to be a decent enough bloke, a bit of a lad and all that, but I do get the impression that he owes his personality more to his mother rather than royal indoctrination. Judging by his schedule here, and in Australia, he’s definitely not work-shy. When it comes to NZ he’s done it all in seven days; sport, military, schools, wildlife, the pub quiz and of course the traditional cultural… Read More
She’s Got Her Troubles I’m getting a bit wary about having a pint with Emily; all sorts of dire stuff seems to befall her afterwards. One time she ended up half dead and hints at my involvement: what the bloody hell does she expect when she leaves the pub and goes on to cram her pudding chute with tofu. I’ve tried to explain to the girl my mother’s wisdom that there’s a difference between scratching your bum and tearing yourself to pieces, but it just doesn’t sink in. Anyway, I’ve got my… Read More
Our house is on the market and we’re living in a world of estate agents, viewings and trying to keep things tidy and depersonalised at all times. We’re moving on after thirty years of living in this lovely Edwardian semi in a premier road within easy reach of the shops and all facilities, as they say in estate agent speak. It wasn’t always a lovely house: when we first moved in, it had been extensively ‘modernised’ by the previous owners to include a sunken floor/conversation pit lined with shag pile, a television… Read More
A Family’s Best Friend It was time, we decided, that Ben should have a dog. Boys need a dog; a dog in the house sort of rounds things off – at least that was my theory at the time. Pet dogs, I discovered, don’t carry the same domestic status in NZ as they do in England; some of them actually sleep outdoors, which is fine for farm and guard dogs, but hardly appropriate for what we Brits regard as a family member. Our first problem arose from selecting the breed: Ben favoured… Read More
Day 7 (insert dodgy Geordie accent) in the Glasgow-Smart household. It has been the longest week of my life – apart from whenever my mother-in-law stays. I have been ill. You’ve probably heard. As with most aspects of my life, I don’t like to keep things quiet. If I’m suffering, then everyone I know needs to suffer my suffering. So: it all started last Sunday with an innocuous pint with Trevor down the pub. Many of my tales begin with a quiet Sunday afternoon pint with Trevor and end in drunken debauchery… Read More