"One Man's Meat"

Flirtatious: In Kiwi, the result of having a fancy for.

Real Mood? Primed for Pain.

Remember I asked you to look up some New Zealand expressions? Wasn't the definition of "bunfight" interesting?

Okay, I know you didn't look it up.  In Kiwi a "bunfight" is a social gathering with a meal.

We easily got through a day with our New Zealand friends John and Kathy finding common linguistic ground and moving on. But there was one other minor cultural clash. We are standing at Tony's meat market trying to decide which cut of beef to throw on the "barby" and John asks what my choice would be among the slabs of beef displayed. So I point to the Top Sirloin.  John gets this real puzzled look and says, "now isn't that going to be a little dry."

Well first of all you can't get a bad steak at Tony's. But secondly, and I'm sure I've very unsophisticated and uneducated about this, but as far back as I can remember (some days that's yesterday) if someone did a word association with me, and they said, "Big Fat Juicy Steak," I'd say, " Top sirloin." Well after "tea", we both learned something. Typically the steak was juicy and a corker (very good ) and John was impressed. I learned that when in Rome or New Zealand, the top sirloin is none of the above.

It was a fun, and as is always the case with the Ing's, an active day. We played two sets of tennis at which time Peggy and I bowed out, while the "Kiwis" played on, well beyond any appropriate activity level for people of their age. While we were on the court it was the boys against the girls. Peggy and Kathy have all the trophies from banging the little fuzzy ball around, and while we gave them a "Go" (decent effort) the ladies humbled us. I was the weak link, but won a few service games. I'd vow to do better next time, but that's not going to happen.  

The Ings, for most of their 30 some years in New Zealand, have survived through the creativity of their minds and hands. Their primary source of revenue for a long time had been the designing, throwing, distribution and sale of pottery. But they always have these little hidden talents you find out about over "tea."

Let's step back for the setup here. When Peggy and I planted our garden 13 years ago, I demanded there be a section devoted to exotic grasses. Along with liking the marsh like appearance they give, I have long envisioned, but never really acted on, weaving that grass into baskets. As fate would have it this was the first year, that  when I cut all the old grass down?  I kept it. Well guess what Kathy has been doing lately. Did you say, "weaving baskets?"

But, ah, life is seldom the smooth ride we want it to be. As impressive as my pampas grass can look, it apparently does not have a good structure for weaving. And contradicting fate here, you apparently do not weave with the old dried out grass.  It needs to be fresh. Still, I got my first lesson in basketweaving and didn't have to pay a few thousand dollars to get academic credit for it. 

Come to find out from Kathy, flax grass makes the best baskets. So if you have any growing in your backyard, don't be shy about inviting me over to take some cuttings.

Gotta get some rest, they want us out on the court again tommorrow. Our next communication may come from a physical therapist's table.

I should get one little break in the day while the Ings are making their "Top Sirloin" sandwiches for the road. When in Rome or Parker.

As for the rest of you, YOU are "guts for garters" for not looking up "bunfight."

"Ta."