Tough Times.

Heat pump and fire on this morning, got us up to Mediterranean temperatures. I had the fire on since 6.20am, but it was still only 5 degrees at 7, so the heat pump got us up to speed.
Meg had a doctors appt for a spot of conjunctivitis and then a dentist appt which declared her to be a cavity free zone. Finn had a bank appt to open an account and deposit his birthday money (he WILL write to you, Granny), and then we all went for a hot chocolate to celebrate.
The snow hit Dunedin badly yesterday, and the rest of the south, with ice wreaking havoc. We were so lucky just to have the clutch worry and not the snow chains too. I look at the bag in the hall that promises 'snowsweat - easy fit, no mess, no fuss, no worries'. If the snow comes before Spook gets home, I'm staying in and working my way through the pile of wood.
You cannot imagine my delight in reading the editorial in the Otago Daily Times today. I was beginning to think I was alone in the world of anit-booing. I never expected to find support from this quarter. They commented on the shame of the bottle throwing as the French did their lap of honour (from the bad people in the terraces), "as well, right around the ground - and right around New Zealand - the unedifying sound of booing as oppostion kickers aim for goal has become standard. How unnecessary and rude and what a bad example of poor sportsmanship to the children present. Even worse in its its disrespect were the cases of jeering during the singing of La Marseillaise."
The papers are full of stories of people out of work (Wanaka) and social services running out of money to give unemployed. A leaflet came through the door asking me to vote on a citizen-initiated referendum which asks "should a smack as part of good parental correction be a criminal offence in New Zealand?" The anti-smacking bill outlawed smacking in 2007, but no-one has really been very clear on it. The referendum will cost $9million. Hmm.
The children are very contented and have been sitting up in bed writing a love story. Meg is doing the writing and Finn is co-writing from the bunk below. It is a love story set on a small farm (characters are father and daughter Calum and Jessie McDonald, so I'm assuming it's in the Highlands - though Roddy in Nelson has a mate called Barry McDonald who is a Maori, so assume nothing). Sadly, the mother is dead, but it involves a much loved horse and a motorbike and lot's of good friends. For a girl who got out of English class for the doctors today and was happy because she hates English, she did what I would have called 'English' of her own free will tonight.
grateful for:
being able to buy 2 toilet rolls from Megan tonight for 50cents and rent one of her DVD's for 40cents. Good to get a bargain in the recession. She is saving for an ipod touch. Finn bought sherbert for 50cents and tipped her another 50. He then had an idea for a fund-raiser of his own. Meg doesn't like to sleep in her own room. When she went to bed she found his door closed and a note pinned to it. 50cents rent per night.