Masters Games

Dunedin is host to this years Master Games, you know, the games for old farts. There has been an influx into the city of wrinkled and determined folk, ready to do battle and prove that age is no impediment for blood thirsty competition and a lot of fun.

I was delighted to read in the local paper the oldest registered competitor was a 95 year-old woman competing in the 100 metres track and field, and also indoor rowing, in the 300m, 500m and 1000m events. In fact there are 350 competitors older than seventy out of the 6000 people registered in the games.

I will be doing my bit in the fencing competition tomorrow. It does mean I have to get out of bed a damn sight earlier than usual, but hey, small price to pay for the chance of trying to legally and legitimately run people through with my sword!

The good stuff

I've had a spell of good things happen...

Bookman Beattie aka Graham Beattie listed Containment as one of his best books of 2009 for his Radio New Zealand Nine to Noon book reviews. I'm utterly rapt with this as this man reads a lot of crime fiction!

Here's the link to his Beattie's Book Blog.

My Stonehenge birthday cake scored eight druids at Clonehenge, the website devoted to replicas of Stonehenge. That's the highest rating they've ever given a cake!


I got a cheque to soften the blow of the ACC bill.


The sun came out in Dunedin today. After I got over the shock of this strange substance emanating from the sky, I got brave and went out in it!

Dangerous Writing

Writing must be an incredibly high risk activity. It must rate up there with base jumping and marlin wrestling, javelin catching or playing chicken with trains.

Or so you'd think, because I just got my ACC bill!!!!

(For those unfortunates who do not live in New Zealand, that is Accident Compensation Corporation, the entity we pay money to through our wages, road user charges, petrol taxes etc to pay for medical treatment and/or compensate us for injury so we cannot sue.)

Mind you, I can see their point. I might accidentally suffer a life-threatening paper cut requiring extensive surgery, hospitalisation and lengthy rehabilitation. Or there is a certain risk of sustaining crush injuries from an avalanche of crud off of my desk. My keyboard could suddenly malfunction and flick a rogue letter up to poke me in the eye. Or for that matter, I could, in a fugue of writing frenzy accidentally poke myself in the eye. Now I think about it, the list goes on and on. I see their point entirely. This writing is a risky business.

Oh ACC, please forgive me for ever doubting you.

Vintage Murder

by Ngaio Marsh

This is the first of Ngaio Marsh's Chief Detective Inspector Roderick Alleyn novels to be set in New Zealand, so it was fun to see what picture of New Zealand the author painted. In fact the picture she painted would have done the boffins at the New Zealand tourism industry proud; clean, green and beautiful.

Of course this book wasn't all about New Zealand, there was a murder involved here. The majority of her mysteries are set in Alleyn's homeland of Britain. He is in New Zealand on holiday, recouperating from surgery and happens to be sharing a train with a company of touring actors who are taking their show to the fictional town of Middleton. He gets to enjoy their opening show and comes along to the opening night party only to witness, along with those present the untimely demise of the Company co-owner by a sabotaged suspended jeroboam of Champagne. Ngaio Marsh gets full marks for unusual murder weapons.

Not one to be able to turn down helping to unravel a murder, Alleyn finds himself assisting the local constabulary.

The last Ngaio Marsh book I read that involved a theatre group and actors (Enter a Murderer) drove me a bit nuts (flaming actors) so I was a little apprehensive about starting this one. I was pleasantly surprised. There were many things I enjoyed about this book. Another good murder mystery. The New Zealand setting. The fact this novel was published in 1937 and the way that is reflected in the language and the social attitudes towards Maori characters and traditions. The tiny little name hidden in the text that caused a serendipitous aha moment for another piece of research I am doing.

So overall Vintage Murder was a good read, and good, vintage Marsh.

Tunnels

By Roderick Gordon & Brian Williams.

Last night we finished this book after it being the bed-time story book for the boys. I had chosen it as it had been touted as the next great thing after Harry Potter. Yes, this was before Stephanie Meyer.

Tunnels is a story about a boy named Will who, with the inspiration of his Dad, is mad about excavating and tunneling. They look for old disused underground railways, sewers, anything interesting underground. When Will's dad makes a few interesting discoveries, and then disappears Will becomes determined to find him. With the help of a friend he follows his Dad's trail until they stumble upon something truly astonishing, a whole new world.

I'm not sure what to make of this book. It was a great premise and interesting, and the boys seemed to enjoy it, but I found it really quite grim. It was a joyless book, there was certainly nothing that made us laugh. So although it is an adventure book for boys, I wouldn't actually recommend it.

The Little Stranger

By Sarah Waters.

Who can resist a ghost story? And who could resist a Man Booker Prize short-listed ghost story? Not me, that's for sure. This book was also an opportunity for me to try a new author, as I hadn't read any of Sarah Water's novels before.

Dr Faraday is called to Hundreds Hall, a once vibrant family home to generations of the Ayers family, but now a crumbling post war yoke for its owners' necks. The three remaining members of the family are virtually destitute and struggling to deal with the changes in society brought about by war and modernisation. The son, Rod, has been badly injured in the war, and seems to be fighting a losing battle with his demons. Mrs Ayers is aged and trying to maintain a shred of their former lifestyle. The daughter, Caroline, is practical and pragmatic, but plain, so has been overlooked by suitors. Dr Faraday recalls visiting the house as a youngster, his mother worked as a nanny for the family. It pains him to see the declining state of the house as well as its inhabitants.

As a series of unfortunate events, and then dramatic changes in the health of the family occurs, they are all left wondering if the house is hiding something more sinister than rot, damp and decay.

The Little Stranger is a long and unrushed kind of a book, that slowly builds up tension and momentum. It is full of fabulous detail and beautiful description of not only the people, but also Hundreds Hall, which comes to life almost as a character in its own right with the wonderful descriptions of its dilapidation. I enjoyed this book immensely and found it a satisfying read. I'll certainly be looking out for more of Sarah Water's novels.

Killer Poetry

While crunching away on a piece of home made sour dough bread toast with butter and raspberry jam this morning, I was blown away to see the Monday poem in the Otago Daily Times. Immortalised in poetry!

It is reproduced below, with the kind permission of its lovely author...

Garden Plots

by Ruth Arnison

A lunchtime walk, winter brisk. Gloves, hats
and foggy words kept us warm

Lights at the Gardens intersection overridden
by police. Observing our

pedestrian status they stopped traffic, waved
us across like ducklings strayed

onto a busy road. Embarrassed we scurried,
middle-aged,ungainly

At the drinking fountain, the pipes were
frozen, our midday thirst

unquenched. Over the bridge, we took the
lower path to Dundas St

You know, she said, I can't walk here
on my own. Not since -

Vanda, I prompted. Yeh, she said, I think
it was down there, the murder

A jogger brushed passed us, we shivered
and moved on

She's writing another one, she said. It's not
right, authors taking over

the city. Soon we'll be walking all over
their plots

.