OK, here’s my next installment….and I’ve gotta write fast…big night tonight…dominoes with our 80 year old neighbors. Actually, they both turn 80 this week and we were privileged to be invited to their joint birthday and 52nd wedding anniversary party last week. This should give you some insight into the edgy nature of our social life.
Actually, the most recent focus of our out-of-the-house social activity has been at a place called the Mussel Inn; a place which by all rights should have gone out of business years ago (read on). It’s about 15 miles from Takaka (pop. +/- 1500), in a very rural setting, surrounded by cow “paddocks.” The building, itself, might seat 30 somewhat comfortably, or accommodate 50 if you don’t mind continual bodily contact with people you don’t know, which is not always a bad thing at my age. Yet, the place thrives. It has a brewery on-site an
d offers live music 3-4 nites a week, poetry one nite, and a quiz one nite, and has a good menu offering (mussel stew, of course). The music is the feature of the place that’s hard to explain. Being as remote as it is, not only for 
st CD at the Mussel. All this is to rationalize that we’ve come 8000 miles to become common barflies.
Probably my favorite feature of the Mussel Inn is the tree stump that has about 20 cell phones nailed to it (pic). This is a fairly effective way to discourage cell phone use on the premises, a method I personally endorse. Even in podunk Takaka, the young girls walk around with their cell phones on, open, saring at it in their hands. We must end this madness. Next time you feel that someone is in need of some cell phone etiquette lessons, just take the phone and nail it to the nearest post.
Voice les
sons, you say? Yes. For lack of much else to do and as a way to entertain ourselves and the oystercatchers (pic) on our evening strolls on the beach, we signed up for a singing class at the local school. It was quite good except for the fact that we not only started mid-term, but with Chris out of town for one class, and my being a little sick for another, we only managed to make it to 3 classes. But, you should know that we both now have terrifically strong, tonally spot-on voices now and are looking at performing as a retirement career. Oh yeah, and another reason to hang out in a bar.
We’ve taken a few local side-trips lately, s
ome involving actual walking and some where our butts never broke contact with the car seat. Two separate trips, both the same weekend, featured Chris defying death by walking across two different swinging foot bridges (pics). As she would want you to understand, people spontaneously fall off these things all the time; that coupled with the fact that these type bridges collapse pretty
regularly, plunging the hapless walkers onto the rocks below. We count ourselves truly lucky to have survived these crossings.
One of these trips entailed a walk up to a scenic falls (pic). The cows that
live at the base of the trail (track) must be smarter than most, as they are kept off the trail by a sign instructing them to stop (pic), but they had to use the exclamation point to get their attention, because they're not that smart.
Another trip was a drive that happened to go past a classic country store/post office about 30
miles from us (pics). The woman who runs the store has done it continuously since 1946 and, from all appearances, much of the stock came there when she did. She’s retiring this week. Be sure to read the sign showing the store hours.
We really have met a few people…not like we’re on anyone’s A-list or anything, but one couple who seems to have potential is a nurse who Chris works with and her potter-husband, who’s name happens to be Paul; a seemingly popular name for potters in both hemispheres. We had brunch there a couple weeks ago and checked out Paul’s studio (pics) and got a little nostalgic for our Homer-potter-friend Paul (and his whole family, of course). We’re hoping when our other Paul comes here to visit we can get them together to promote a li
ttle inter-cultural potterial exchange.
An unusual thing happened the other night as we were sitting at home…alone, as usual. We heard a thump against the front door and looked out and saw that a small owl had slammed into the glass. I assumed it had broken its neck, but picked it up anyway and brought it inside (pic) as I thought it might make a dandy stir fry. After 5 or 10 minutes of wondering what to do with a mortally wounded owl, he/she began to move a bit, but could only manage to open one eye. Then, when Chris made a little racket, both eyes opened and he/she bolted into the spare bedroom. I had to recapt
ure him/her with a towel to take it outside where it took off like nothing had happened. Not sure if we are eligible for any karma points for that.
If you haven’t heard, we are planning a trip to the
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