The smokers’ place at work is an outside space, the cart dock actually, where incoming goods are trundled to various destinations. Amazing conversations take place among this diverse group all gathered with the one purpose of sucking in that foul air.
It is THE place to be if you really want to know what is actually happening within the management of any of the companies that inhabit an international airport. We hear it first form the grassroots, the workers. It always amazes me that the management doesn’t take up this immense knowledge base. I mean we have it all sussed. We know exactly what needs to be done to make things work – better that is. We know how to make staff feel appreciated, what is wrong with the systems, bloody hell, we are the ones that have to implement every stupid, unworkable idea. So we know. We could fix it all in the blink of an eye, all that’s needed is a management committee of SMOKERS.
It is truly incredible. It is a very human place to be. It is an opportunity to forge friendships that would not have happened without the common thread of addiction. There are those who have worked in the same environment for years and can tell you who did what, when and what happened next!!! Confidentiality rules so I can’t disclose any information that might get me or anyone else the sack!! We live in a work environment where you are guilty as charged until you prove otherwise. A vast difference to the recognized legal system but hey, that is the reality of being an employee in the current workforce.
Smokers share stories, about their kids, their parents, their pets.Their loves, their loses their lives. Nothing is exempt. There are people who have the most amazing knowledge base on topics you wouldn’t dream they might be interested in. Natural history, dog breeding, fishing, politics you name it we will have a spokesperson with a life long hobby in it. It is also a huge multi-cultural melting pot. Indian, Polynesian, Serbian, Russian, Korean, Japanese, Maori, Pakeha, South African and Dutch. It is a free indepth travel guide and a true insight into life around the globe. It is a privilege to be part of this.
And we laugh. Sometimes outrageously, sometimes inappropriately but always frequently and often side-splittingly with accompanying tears running down our faces We often need to compose ourselves and put on our professional faces before heading back to our posts.
I love it.
Funny dog training story. True story. One of the women had gone to puppy training classes with her two daughters, (no she wasn’t training them!!) and one of the girl’s puppy. Her description of the other participants was a delightful cameo and that was before she told us her story.
The puppy had to be made to lie down on the floor without any verbal instruction. This involved pushing down on the pup’s shoulders until it succumbed and lay down. Well, this in turn involved our group speaker who had taken the lead role, sitting with pup between her feet and one daughter beside her and one behind her, doing the pushing down. Unfortunately, when she did this she let rip with a symphony of loud farts. This in turn caused her embarrassment and uncontrollable giggles from one daughter and exposed her to the wrath and acute embarrassment of the other daughter. This only made the matter worse and said leader had an uncontrollable fit of the giggles with one daughter in also collapsed in hysterics and the other kept saying “Oh Mum!!.”
The lead actress made a wonderful job of relaying this story and by the end of it, our smokers group also had tears streaming down our faces, and we were bent over double laughing. Apparently the conversation carried on all the way home in the car with the mother and daughters and said puppy. It then got relayed to the family at home and they too got good mileage and belly laughs from the story. A man, who apparently resembled a TV type wrestler and had been at the puppy class with his chiwawa was apparently unmoved by my colleagues misfortune and avoided eye contact and any reaction. The instructor was none too pleased with this irreverent mob. I didn’t find out if the puppy will lie down on instruction but suspect it may only do so on fart command. There are still three more training classes to go.
Long rule the smokers I say.
Off to work now.
ARohanui
KG
22 Feb 2008
An ordinary day
Today is an ordinary day. I am going to work shortly, the last day of my block of six days. I have the next three days off, and then it starts all over again. I like shift work mainly because of the days off!! There are three early starts and three afternoon starts. The earlies are very early ranging from 0400 to 0630. I hate the actual getting up early but I love having the afternoons at home, so that is the pay off.
It is also an extraordinary day as is each day of my life. I have just finished looking at the proposals for a permanent memorial for those murdered in the 7/7 London bombings.
The site will be one of three options in Hyde Park.
Two and a half years after my darling Shelley was murdered in London, there are still “official” decisions to be made. I know when I receive a foolscap white envelope in the mail, with a franked postage paid from London, that it will be one of those types of letters. Sometimes I think about not opening them, but I an always compelled to open them. Maybe only delaying long enough to get a drink and a cigarette to accompany the reading of the contents. There is always a gut reaction, a sinking feeling, a wanting to know what is in it and a not wanting to know at the same time. It might be information about the inquest, the trial or the memorial. Something that I read, consider and respond too. Something, that I have to think about. Something, that draws me into the reality of Shelley’s death.
They appear, unexpected, not uninvited because I have indicated I want to know everything there is to know, but the unexpectedness sometimes takes my breath away.
On my birthday in June, I received two pieces of mail. One was a birthday card. One was from the Coroner stating that they were going to issue final Death Certificates before the inquest, which has been deferred indefinitely, until the end of the upcoming trial. An Interim Death Certificate was issued at the time of Shelley’s death so that we could bring her home to NZ.
It is a strange place to be in on your birthday, sitting with two so very different pieces of information in your hand, in your heart. Seeing in your mind’s eye, fragments of the multiple journeys made to and from London, snippets of my child’s life from any time in her life, when she was born, so tiny and fragile, her graduation, her homecoming. Two parallel realities playing at the same time. It would be strange on any day but birthdays are the day in our family, more important than Christmas or any other officially noted date. Apart from death dates that is.
There is a rationale that runs through my head as I start to open the envelope. Nothing can be worse than what I already know. I have read the Coroner’s report which came in a sealed envelope, within an envelope in case I didn’t want to read it - yet. Nothing can be worse than the daily knowledge that Shelley is dead. I am therefore able to open the envelope and deal with what it contains.
The memorial will be something beautiful to honour all our loved ones. I am pleased about this. I wish there was no need for a memorial.
Arohanui
KG
It is also an extraordinary day as is each day of my life. I have just finished looking at the proposals for a permanent memorial for those murdered in the 7/7 London bombings.
The site will be one of three options in Hyde Park.
Two and a half years after my darling Shelley was murdered in London, there are still “official” decisions to be made. I know when I receive a foolscap white envelope in the mail, with a franked postage paid from London, that it will be one of those types of letters. Sometimes I think about not opening them, but I an always compelled to open them. Maybe only delaying long enough to get a drink and a cigarette to accompany the reading of the contents. There is always a gut reaction, a sinking feeling, a wanting to know what is in it and a not wanting to know at the same time. It might be information about the inquest, the trial or the memorial. Something that I read, consider and respond too. Something, that I have to think about. Something, that draws me into the reality of Shelley’s death.
They appear, unexpected, not uninvited because I have indicated I want to know everything there is to know, but the unexpectedness sometimes takes my breath away.
On my birthday in June, I received two pieces of mail. One was a birthday card. One was from the Coroner stating that they were going to issue final Death Certificates before the inquest, which has been deferred indefinitely, until the end of the upcoming trial. An Interim Death Certificate was issued at the time of Shelley’s death so that we could bring her home to NZ.
It is a strange place to be in on your birthday, sitting with two so very different pieces of information in your hand, in your heart. Seeing in your mind’s eye, fragments of the multiple journeys made to and from London, snippets of my child’s life from any time in her life, when she was born, so tiny and fragile, her graduation, her homecoming. Two parallel realities playing at the same time. It would be strange on any day but birthdays are the day in our family, more important than Christmas or any other officially noted date. Apart from death dates that is.
There is a rationale that runs through my head as I start to open the envelope. Nothing can be worse than what I already know. I have read the Coroner’s report which came in a sealed envelope, within an envelope in case I didn’t want to read it - yet. Nothing can be worse than the daily knowledge that Shelley is dead. I am therefore able to open the envelope and deal with what it contains.
The memorial will be something beautiful to honour all our loved ones. I am pleased about this. I wish there was no need for a memorial.
Arohanui
KG
19 Feb 2008
More than just a headline
I am alive and well, emerging like a somewhat battered bear after a period of hibernation. Three months have gone by now since our move into our new home, two months since I last blogged. It has been a period of settling in, putting our mark on the new home and making it our own. This has involved much physical labour, cleaning spoutings, trimming trees, planting and refreshing the gardens etc. The next big job is staining the ceadar boards. All good stuff and HB & I absolutely love living here. It is the perfect place for us to hold our lives and loves.
SBS & his SH spent the first eight weeks living with us which was fantastic. They are now proud flat dwellers on the North Shore, (a foreign land to us Westies – but I have ventured across the harbour bridge to visit , once so far – daring I know!!) SBS has two jobs and his SH is full time studying at a film school and part time working. They have SH’s little dog with them so they are a busy little family. The good news is that they will need to stay put for the year. Yay!!
FBS has also moved residence and is now flatting above his place of work. How smart and convenient apart from the fact that the boss can make home visits I guess.
Anyway all are well and happy and excited about the unraveling year.
Their dad is doing extremely well in his recuperation which is also great news.
I am busy writing some new poetry and find this totally absorbing to the point that it is hard to sit down and write for the blogsite. The process is completely different. I choose each word with care and it must be the right word. I think I have transferred some of that to the blog and of course, can’t get all those words to be the RIGHT ones hence I put up nothing!! I have been prompted to deal with that and will publish and hopefully not be damned!!
I have had a few thoughts as I have glanced over the papers this year. The way things are handled by the press and how we (the general public respond). We all do it. Scan the paper. Read the horrific stories of violence, murders, and the running tally of road deaths. And then it starts. The letters to the editor, the calls to talkback radio, reflect the divisive nature of these events.
Some a couple of weeks back, showed understanding for a 50 year old male who allegedly took the life, by stabbing, of a 15 yr old tagger. This is a week after our country has hosted yet another tourist murder. A 26 yr old female, Karen Aim, who had been here working and enjoying our country. A week also where a young man working at his family’s dairy was murdered by a robber. 10 homicides in the month of January. It all appears to have gone horribly wrong. People are anxious, frightened and demanding “solutions”. Harsher penalties, cut benefits, electronic tagging of potential offenders, curfews etc etc. The baying public, demand that the government does something.
Community leaders, Mayors, Youth Workers are interview for their views. Some of it is good and useful input a lot of it however, is knee jerk reaction to a particular event.
Each event takes precedence over the previous horror story. Last week’s murder is just that, last week’s. New is current and has a very short life span. As soon as another murder or violent act occurs, that then become the news of the day. You would be hard pushed to find much in-depth ongoing discussion in the daily papers. It is as if the nation screams, bays for action and then forgets.
Politicians, particularly in an election year want to be heard. They sometimes troop along to the funeral of the poor deceased person. Then they state our party will do this, our party will do that. They blame this and they blame that. This from our Minister of Police. Again mostly knee jerk reactions, stuff people want to hear at times when we are all hurting from the tarnished image of our country that these violent acts portray.
We don’t want o be perceived as a country that murders tourists, but we are. We don’t want to be seen as a country with youth, gang or drug problems, but we are. We don’t want to be seen as a country with a growing gap between the rich and the poor, but we are.
After the crisis is over, we all settle back down to our little lives. Maybe adding a few more security bolts to our windows and doors, another sensor light up on the outside of the house. We get on with our small lives, shaking our heads at the state of things and spouting if only we had tougher penalties, bring in boot camps, cut out the social welfare payments – that will teach them. That will sort them out.
All that is enough to make me shake my head and wonder what sort of nation we are building for our families, for our children and our children’s children. Where in any of this is personal responsibility. Where is the tenant of looking out for our children, whether they are kids or adults? Where is the tenet of looking out for our aged parents our neighbours?
We create the society in which we live either by our actions or by default and inaction. There is no one to blame but ourselves when it goes wrong. It is incumbent on all of us by the fact that we are part of this society, to try to find reasonable solutions. We have politicians whose policies impact on all of these crucial matters, employment, housing, education, health, youth issues etc. None of them seem too bothered until headlines are made. As the people who elect our politicians, again either actively or passively, we need to be demanding indepth responses. Not the rabble feeding frenzy we have seen as a result of our terrible murder toll. Yes, it is a changed world but what values to we want out communities to reflect and are we as individuals prepared to do our bit?
I do know that behind the headlines, no matter the circumstances, no matter the cause, murder is a life sentence for the families of the victims. It is irrelevant who, what, why - it only matters that it is true. Your loved one is dead. Choices taken away. It is a life sentence. My heart goes out to all the families involved. Two and a half year's after Shelley's murder - it is as painful and life altering as if it happened yesterday. It is not an area for political haymaking, or for nutty rightwing groups to be taken seriously. What is needed is compassion and intestinal fortitude and a committment to making a real difference. A headline is just that a headline, a fleeting sensationalist collection of a few words. A death is a permanent full stop.
I don’t have the answers and of course any solution is complex to say the least.
I think asking the question first is a good start.
As for Bush – I can’t believe he has used the 7/7 London bombings to prop up his support and justification for the torture process of “waterboarding”. How dare he use any of my family to prop up his argument. I do not condone torture nor do I appreciate his stating that he is sure families of the 7/7 victims would endorse or support this practice. He hasn’t even called me to ask me!! That’s is partly what I mean about media, making hay out of every possible scenario without any thought to the sensibilities of those he is invoking. Absolute rubbish and a disgrace. I was going to email him but thought the SIS may descend on my paradise and throw me into a bath of water!! Coward I know but I really prefer showers. Maybe he will read this and send me an apology. Ha ha.
I am endeavouring to regain my sense of humour – Step 1. Stop reading the papers. Step 2. Don’t watch the news. Step 3. Drink more.
Signing off to have a laugh and go to work!! Now that's funny.
Arohanui
KG
SBS & his SH spent the first eight weeks living with us which was fantastic. They are now proud flat dwellers on the North Shore, (a foreign land to us Westies – but I have ventured across the harbour bridge to visit , once so far – daring I know!!) SBS has two jobs and his SH is full time studying at a film school and part time working. They have SH’s little dog with them so they are a busy little family. The good news is that they will need to stay put for the year. Yay!!
FBS has also moved residence and is now flatting above his place of work. How smart and convenient apart from the fact that the boss can make home visits I guess.
Anyway all are well and happy and excited about the unraveling year.
Their dad is doing extremely well in his recuperation which is also great news.
I am busy writing some new poetry and find this totally absorbing to the point that it is hard to sit down and write for the blogsite. The process is completely different. I choose each word with care and it must be the right word. I think I have transferred some of that to the blog and of course, can’t get all those words to be the RIGHT ones hence I put up nothing!! I have been prompted to deal with that and will publish and hopefully not be damned!!
I have had a few thoughts as I have glanced over the papers this year. The way things are handled by the press and how we (the general public respond). We all do it. Scan the paper. Read the horrific stories of violence, murders, and the running tally of road deaths. And then it starts. The letters to the editor, the calls to talkback radio, reflect the divisive nature of these events.
Some a couple of weeks back, showed understanding for a 50 year old male who allegedly took the life, by stabbing, of a 15 yr old tagger. This is a week after our country has hosted yet another tourist murder. A 26 yr old female, Karen Aim, who had been here working and enjoying our country. A week also where a young man working at his family’s dairy was murdered by a robber. 10 homicides in the month of January. It all appears to have gone horribly wrong. People are anxious, frightened and demanding “solutions”. Harsher penalties, cut benefits, electronic tagging of potential offenders, curfews etc etc. The baying public, demand that the government does something.
Community leaders, Mayors, Youth Workers are interview for their views. Some of it is good and useful input a lot of it however, is knee jerk reaction to a particular event.
Each event takes precedence over the previous horror story. Last week’s murder is just that, last week’s. New is current and has a very short life span. As soon as another murder or violent act occurs, that then become the news of the day. You would be hard pushed to find much in-depth ongoing discussion in the daily papers. It is as if the nation screams, bays for action and then forgets.
Politicians, particularly in an election year want to be heard. They sometimes troop along to the funeral of the poor deceased person. Then they state our party will do this, our party will do that. They blame this and they blame that. This from our Minister of Police. Again mostly knee jerk reactions, stuff people want to hear at times when we are all hurting from the tarnished image of our country that these violent acts portray.
We don’t want o be perceived as a country that murders tourists, but we are. We don’t want to be seen as a country with youth, gang or drug problems, but we are. We don’t want to be seen as a country with a growing gap between the rich and the poor, but we are.
After the crisis is over, we all settle back down to our little lives. Maybe adding a few more security bolts to our windows and doors, another sensor light up on the outside of the house. We get on with our small lives, shaking our heads at the state of things and spouting if only we had tougher penalties, bring in boot camps, cut out the social welfare payments – that will teach them. That will sort them out.
All that is enough to make me shake my head and wonder what sort of nation we are building for our families, for our children and our children’s children. Where in any of this is personal responsibility. Where is the tenant of looking out for our children, whether they are kids or adults? Where is the tenet of looking out for our aged parents our neighbours?
We create the society in which we live either by our actions or by default and inaction. There is no one to blame but ourselves when it goes wrong. It is incumbent on all of us by the fact that we are part of this society, to try to find reasonable solutions. We have politicians whose policies impact on all of these crucial matters, employment, housing, education, health, youth issues etc. None of them seem too bothered until headlines are made. As the people who elect our politicians, again either actively or passively, we need to be demanding indepth responses. Not the rabble feeding frenzy we have seen as a result of our terrible murder toll. Yes, it is a changed world but what values to we want out communities to reflect and are we as individuals prepared to do our bit?
I do know that behind the headlines, no matter the circumstances, no matter the cause, murder is a life sentence for the families of the victims. It is irrelevant who, what, why - it only matters that it is true. Your loved one is dead. Choices taken away. It is a life sentence. My heart goes out to all the families involved. Two and a half year's after Shelley's murder - it is as painful and life altering as if it happened yesterday. It is not an area for political haymaking, or for nutty rightwing groups to be taken seriously. What is needed is compassion and intestinal fortitude and a committment to making a real difference. A headline is just that a headline, a fleeting sensationalist collection of a few words. A death is a permanent full stop.
I don’t have the answers and of course any solution is complex to say the least.
I think asking the question first is a good start.
As for Bush – I can’t believe he has used the 7/7 London bombings to prop up his support and justification for the torture process of “waterboarding”. How dare he use any of my family to prop up his argument. I do not condone torture nor do I appreciate his stating that he is sure families of the 7/7 victims would endorse or support this practice. He hasn’t even called me to ask me!! That’s is partly what I mean about media, making hay out of every possible scenario without any thought to the sensibilities of those he is invoking. Absolute rubbish and a disgrace. I was going to email him but thought the SIS may descend on my paradise and throw me into a bath of water!! Coward I know but I really prefer showers. Maybe he will read this and send me an apology. Ha ha.
I am endeavouring to regain my sense of humour – Step 1. Stop reading the papers. Step 2. Don’t watch the news. Step 3. Drink more.
Signing off to have a laugh and go to work!! Now that's funny.
Arohanui
KG
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