Tuesday, April 14: Oh my goodness, such excitement. I get to drive my car. The sense of freedom is huge. I haven’t taken it out since my flu injection about two weeks ago. This morning it’s only a short hop, as per the rules, up Ruakura Rd to collect two baskets of glorious potted basil from my ex-neighbour Diana, at Hilda Ross Village. They are too heavy for me to carry home on foot so hence the car. Diana is an amazing gardener and her creative space is a bit confined nowadays. So she buys old baskets at op shops, layers them with newspaper and potting mix and plants them with herbs, rocket and other greens, and gives them to friends.
Today’s sweet-smelling summery basil – defying the seasons – is for me and Anna. I park across the road from Diana’s unit, she does careful handover of the baskets, and I take a photo of her through the fence with my phone to text to her daughter in Auckland.
Of course I can’t possibly go straight home because my father always said a car needs a decent run every now and then. I can’t remember what the consequences are if this doesn’t happen but on the strength of Dad’s long ago advice, I do a bigger loop around the neighbourhood and feel the better for it. Maybe that’s what he meant, he was thinking more about the driver than the car. Then one basil basket is delivered next door to Anna and Guy’s house, where Tom is celebrating his 15th birthday in lockdown.
The basil is just in time for lunch, the Italian favourite bruschetta that channels the colours of the country’s flag: grilled, oiled bread piled hot from the oven with chopped tomatoes, feta, sweet-smelling basil leaves, finely chopped garlic, salt and pepper, and a touch more olive oil.
Beauty spot: I finally tackle the eyebrow tint kit. I gingerly trim my eyebrows in the manner that I’ve seen professionals do then I read the instructions a trillion times and brush on the colour cream and developer gel. It is a modest success; the left eyebrow turns out better than the right, which is a wee bit patchy. Now that I know what I’m doing, I may have another go at it.
More bad news: the media continues to bleed. NZME announces today it is axing about 15 per cent of its workforce (200 people) and asking staff to take pay cuts as its advertising income looks to have been halved. NZME owns the New Zealand Herald, radio stations and various regional papers. It is another bleak day for the industry, in the wake of the Bauer magazine fall out and Stuff cutting columnists and contributors. Some of the financial difficulties go much further back and are now exacerbated by the pandemic crisis. It seems ironic – and hugely worrying – that the biggest story of this century may be the one that sinks more highly valued titles and people.
Cake update: I’ve loved the reports and photos from friends who’ve made the Easter Cake, especially Barbara’s creative effort of bulking up the orange juice with cranberry juice and finding good use for ancient chocolate brandy liqueur and Tia Maria. Cheers to that!
