The five most recent episodes of the podcast are listed on the sidebar on the right side of this blog.
Friday, April 30, 2021
AmeriNZ Podcast episode 355 now available
The five most recent episodes of the podcast are listed on the sidebar on the right side of this blog.
Thursday, April 29, 2021
Sun cents
My solar power system was switched on a week ago today, and I’ve been both monitoring and adjusting to it. It’s been interesting.
I kept checking the output on Friday, the first full day it was running, beginning a little before 9am. At that time, the system was generating 500 watts, about 10% of its maximum. That has to do with the time of year and the position of my house.
It’s the latter part of Autumn now, so the sun rises around 7am. That means that it takes around an hour before the sky starts getting light, and so, my system starts generating real power. Beyond that, the front of my house faces northeast, and that means that the peak of the roof runs northeast to southwest. This matters because the solar panels are on the western side of the roof ridge, and so, full sunlight doesn’t start hitting the panels until later in the morning. I knew all this, of course.
As it turned out, I could watch the output increasing reasonably quickly: By 9:30am it was at 1.6KW (1.6 kilowatts, or 1,600 watts). An hour later, it was nearly double, at around 3KW. It peaked out at 4.6KW, just 400 watts shy of its maximum output.
Since then, we’ve had several rainy days, and the output was on the lower end on those days (like, say, 1.6KW). I expected that, too.
Because the amount of power I generate varies according to time of day and the weather, what electrical things I can run for free on a day also varies. I shouldn’t run everything at once for a good reason: If the power I’m using exceeds the power I’m generating, I have to buy power from the electricity company. I’d rather use free power, of course.
This is typical for how I manage this: Yesterday morning, I ran the dishwasher by itself, and the power was free. Later, after the dishwasher was done and the sun was moving higher, I did a load of washing, and then put it in the dryer. Then, when my power generation was peaking, I started another load of washing while the first was drying. Today, with no more laundry to do at the moment, I ironed my shirts using free electricity. Tomorrow will be a partly cloudy day, so I’ll probably just vacuum (I’d normally do that on a Friday, anyway).
What may be obvious is that this actually isn’t very different from what I’d normally do, apart from running the dishwasher in the daytime (I used to put it on when I went to bed). On the other hand, if it’s a bright sunny day, I know I can run more electrical stuff for free, and other days I can run less to have it free.
All of this is stuff I more or less knew would be the case, however, there was one surprise: Noise. It turns out that when the inverter (which converts the DC from the PV panels to the AC the house needs) is under load (probably at least 2KW), it sort of hums. I’m pretty sure that’s the cooling fan, which doesn’t run at lower load levels because the heatsink is enough.
The inverter is mounted in the garage, on the wall next to the power panel (circuit breaker). It needs to be there because it has to connect into the house’s power distribution, but, unfortunately, that spot is also on the other side of the kitchen wall. It’s not an obnoxious sound inside the house, and barely noticeable if I’ve switched on the jug or the TV us on, but when the house is quiet and I’m standing in the kitchen, I can hear it. It’s much louder in the garage, of course, where it sounds like an older PC (Nigel once built one that sounded just like it, and it’s louder than the computer servers, also in the garage). Fortunately the pitch is neither too high nor too low, which means it’s not a problem, just something that I didn’t expect.
It’s too early to know how this will affect my power bills—the system was turned on the same day the meter was read. Even so, I do know that my bill for last month was up about 18% on the previous month, but even that’s not straightforward: Last month’s bill was for 29 days (and not a full month) because I switched power providers last month. Also, I’m now turning on the heat at night. On the plus side, the bill’s total is after subtracting the $1.44 credit I received for my power generation—which was actually only for the few hours the system was on and generating that day (I think I did a load of laundry that day, too).
Even though it was fun to pay close attention in the first few days, I won’t be keeping track of my power generation in real-time. However, I am planning to talk about how it’s going at 3 months, six months, and at one year. By then I should have a pretty good idea how it’s affecting my power bills. I know some other people who will be as interested as I am in seeing how this works out.
Any rate, this is just the start, of course. That’s also part of why I think it’s so interesting.
I kept checking the output on Friday, the first full day it was running, beginning a little before 9am. At that time, the system was generating 500 watts, about 10% of its maximum. That has to do with the time of year and the position of my house.
It’s the latter part of Autumn now, so the sun rises around 7am. That means that it takes around an hour before the sky starts getting light, and so, my system starts generating real power. Beyond that, the front of my house faces northeast, and that means that the peak of the roof runs northeast to southwest. This matters because the solar panels are on the western side of the roof ridge, and so, full sunlight doesn’t start hitting the panels until later in the morning. I knew all this, of course.
As it turned out, I could watch the output increasing reasonably quickly: By 9:30am it was at 1.6KW (1.6 kilowatts, or 1,600 watts). An hour later, it was nearly double, at around 3KW. It peaked out at 4.6KW, just 400 watts shy of its maximum output.
Since then, we’ve had several rainy days, and the output was on the lower end on those days (like, say, 1.6KW). I expected that, too.
Because the amount of power I generate varies according to time of day and the weather, what electrical things I can run for free on a day also varies. I shouldn’t run everything at once for a good reason: If the power I’m using exceeds the power I’m generating, I have to buy power from the electricity company. I’d rather use free power, of course.
This is typical for how I manage this: Yesterday morning, I ran the dishwasher by itself, and the power was free. Later, after the dishwasher was done and the sun was moving higher, I did a load of washing, and then put it in the dryer. Then, when my power generation was peaking, I started another load of washing while the first was drying. Today, with no more laundry to do at the moment, I ironed my shirts using free electricity. Tomorrow will be a partly cloudy day, so I’ll probably just vacuum (I’d normally do that on a Friday, anyway).
What may be obvious is that this actually isn’t very different from what I’d normally do, apart from running the dishwasher in the daytime (I used to put it on when I went to bed). On the other hand, if it’s a bright sunny day, I know I can run more electrical stuff for free, and other days I can run less to have it free.
All of this is stuff I more or less knew would be the case, however, there was one surprise: Noise. It turns out that when the inverter (which converts the DC from the PV panels to the AC the house needs) is under load (probably at least 2KW), it sort of hums. I’m pretty sure that’s the cooling fan, which doesn’t run at lower load levels because the heatsink is enough.
The inverter is mounted in the garage, on the wall next to the power panel (circuit breaker). It needs to be there because it has to connect into the house’s power distribution, but, unfortunately, that spot is also on the other side of the kitchen wall. It’s not an obnoxious sound inside the house, and barely noticeable if I’ve switched on the jug or the TV us on, but when the house is quiet and I’m standing in the kitchen, I can hear it. It’s much louder in the garage, of course, where it sounds like an older PC (Nigel once built one that sounded just like it, and it’s louder than the computer servers, also in the garage). Fortunately the pitch is neither too high nor too low, which means it’s not a problem, just something that I didn’t expect.
It’s too early to know how this will affect my power bills—the system was turned on the same day the meter was read. Even so, I do know that my bill for last month was up about 18% on the previous month, but even that’s not straightforward: Last month’s bill was for 29 days (and not a full month) because I switched power providers last month. Also, I’m now turning on the heat at night. On the plus side, the bill’s total is after subtracting the $1.44 credit I received for my power generation—which was actually only for the few hours the system was on and generating that day (I think I did a load of laundry that day, too).
Even though it was fun to pay close attention in the first few days, I won’t be keeping track of my power generation in real-time. However, I am planning to talk about how it’s going at 3 months, six months, and at one year. By then I should have a pretty good idea how it’s affecting my power bills. I know some other people who will be as interested as I am in seeing how this works out.
Any rate, this is just the start, of course. That’s also part of why I think it’s so interesting.
Fritter away
Today I made sweetcorn fritters for the first time ever. A couple weeks ago, Facebook served up a memory of how Nigel made them for me in 2015 [screenshot below], leading me to proclaim him “Best Husband Ever”. He made them for me because he knew how much I liked them. However, he didn’t especially like them, which may be why he never made them for me again. So, I made them today.I have no idea where Nigel got the recipe, but he wrote it down and I put it that slip of paper my recipe notebook many years ago. I get to see his handwriting every time I look at the recipe, which is now a sort of bonus. The recipe is insanely easy:
I used the same recipe he used, and although mine was a good first effort, it wasn’t as good as what he made. More practice is needed.
I served them like most cafes have done: A side of bacon, and with a dollop of sour cream and a drizzle of sweet chilli sauce (I prefer Thai style). Most cafes add a fresh green mini salad (generally with fresh spinach or rocket), but I didn’t have anything on hand.
When Nigel made them for me, he served them with some tomato chutney he made from fresh tomatoes, but I don’t remember how he made it (it was six years ago, after all). Still, it’s a good idea to use sweet chilli sauce or a tomato chutney or tomato relish because the fritters can be a bit greasy and heavy.
Still, like I said, it was a good first effort. But I wish Nigel had made them for me instead. Of course.
Lightly beat one egg with about a tablespoon of water. Sift together 1 cup flour and 1 teaspoon baking powder, add a little salt and pepper, then stir into egg/water mix. Add one can of cream corn (they’re 410g here; choose a good brand, one that has whole kernels in it, too, and not just all mush). Stir together. At this point, check how thick the batter is. It shouldn’t be thin, but if it’s too thick, add a little water. Fry on a relatively moderate high heat—they take longer to cook than pancakes do, and if the heat is too high, they’ll burn before they’re cooked through. I had to turn the heat down after the first ones were, um, over-done.
I said in my Instagram post that it needs something to help cut the heaviness and greasiness. I like sweet chilli sauce, but tomato relish would be my second choice. Oddly enough, the sour cream doesn't add any heaviness or greasiness—maybe because it helps tone down the chilli sauce? I think that plain Greek-style yoghurt might be nice in place of sour cream. In any case, it’s worth experimenting with the additions (I will). Also, I cooked the bacon in the oven and drained it on a paper towel before serving.
I decided to try making it when I posted the Facebook Memory below, and the following Thursday I went to the supermarket and bought the cream corn and bacon—but I forgot the sour cream. It took me a week to get back to the supermarket to get that (and other stuff, of course). Then, because I was busy with family all weekend, the first chance I had to make it was Tuesday’s lunch. Ordinarily, I’d prefer it as a weekend brunch-y kind of thing. Maybe for my next attempt. Side note: It’s kind of unusual for me to cook a lunch—I usually have a sandwich or wrap or something like that (making toast doesn’t count as “cooking” for purposes of this post…). Actually, I seldom cook breakfast, either—unless quick oats zapped in the microwave for 90 seconds counts as “cooking”…
Much of my motivation for trying to cook things I’ve never made before is simply that it gives me something to do, something beyond ordinary chores. I’m also keen to make things I like without all the additives and chemicals that commercially processed versions have, especially salt and sugar. This last part isn’t new: I’ve talked before about making things in a healthier way.
However, another of my motivations, more indirectly, is Nigel. I (mostly) make things he’d have liked, too, or things that he has some connection to (like the fritters). Nigel was a far better cook than me, and I lacked the confidence to be adventurous when he was alive, and trying new things now is my way of carrying on what he showed me for all those years—and just maybe going a little bit farther (for example, when I made Thai dishes for the family last month, I hadn’t made most of the dishes before; Nigel would’ve been reluctant to do that—especially reluctant for me to do that!).
Over the past 18+ months, I’ve done a lot of stuff just for me, some stuff that’s connected in some way with Nigel, and a lot of stuff “just because”. This experiment was actually a bit of all three. Sometimes that can produce the tastiest results.
Wednesday, April 28, 2021
Another podcast guest spot
Paul and I last caught up like this back in 2018 (and it was also a long episode). We both had some challenges along the way, and for me, I wasn’t really interesting interest in podcasting for the past 18 months. Things are changing for me in so many ways, and returning to podcasting is among the most public.
Paul and I have been friends for a very long time, stretching all the way back to when I was a brand-new podcaster back in 2007. More adventures are planned.
Of no particular importance
I saw the graphic at left by chance, displayed at the top of my Twitter feed when I signed in using my desktop browser yesterday morning—and I don’t even remember why I went to the site. When I saw the graphic, I was kind of surprised I’d forgotten about it. I forgot it last year, too, but I was a bit busy at the time: We were about to leave the Covid-19 lockdown. That, and I was still adjusting to my new life. The last time I mentioned a Twitterversary was 2019, before my life was blown up.
The hard, cold reality is that I just don’t care about Twitter anymore. I once had interesting discussions on it, and often found topics to blog about. But as time went on, it became more and more of a cesspool, so much so that every time I went on it I ended up blocking accounts—sometimes dozens at a time. It wasn’t because I thought we’d ever encounter each other, it was simply that I didn’t want to see their aggressive stupidity in my Twitter feed. By me saying that, one might assume the blocked accounts were all Righwing (or pretending to be), and mostly they were, however, I also blocked lots of accounts that were Leftwing (or pretending to be). I was actually blocking extremism, not ideology.
But why go someplace where every time I visited I had to take out the trash? Yeah, nah, just not worth it. The truth is, I often feel that way about Facebook, too, but far less often (I’ve also blocked dozens of accounts there, too, but at a far slower rate than I have on Twitter).
Mainly, I concentrate on people I actually know, or accounts I’m actually interested in. These days, I generally won’t take a chance on a random person, but the worse thing is, I don’t even care about that anymore.
So I forgot all about my Twitterversary—big deal. Chances are good I’ll forget about it next year, too. Times have definitely changed.
My Facebook-a-versary is in a few weeks. I wonder if I’ll remember that… (Spoiler alert: probably not). That’s fine, too.
Sunday, April 25, 2021
Fools’ follies
Anyone who has any sort of blog or similar site has encountered spam comments. They’re just another of the scourges of our online lives, a list that includes spam emails, online messages, and even text messages. And speaking of phones, there are also scam phone calls to add to our fun. Every once in a while I look at some of their “efforts”, and, as always, I wonder how on earth any of them would think their methods would work. That is, I think that after I’ve stopped laughing at them.
Yesterday, I had to go to the AmeriNZ Podcast site to do a little manual maintenance, which I’d been putting off. While there, I decided to clear the spam comment queue, something I put off even longer. I shared some of the “greatest hits” on Facebook, saying:
• "It’s the best time to make some plans for the future and it is time to be happy. I’ve read this post and if I could I wish to suggest you few interesting things or tips. Perhaps you can write next articles referring to this article. I wish to read even more things about it!" If I could wish to suggest spammers/scammers bathe in a vat of acid…
• "Everything is very open with a precise description of the issues. It was truly informative. Your site is very useful. Thank you for sharing!" Was intended for a post in May 2015.
• "Hi, this is Irina. I am sending you my intimate photos as I promised." Oh, My! Poor "Irina" didn't bother to read the About page—how embarrassing for her!
• I actually get a lot spam like this: "I know this if off topic but I’m looking into starting my own blog and was wondering what all is required to get set up? I’m assuming having a blog like yours would cost a pretty penny? I’m not very web savvy so I’m not 100% sure. Any suggestions or advice would be greatly appreciated. Appreciate it" (no fullstop). Left for the same post 2013 post as above.
Related (and all these were left around the same days):
• "Hey very nice blog!" Left for my first-ever post on that site, which as dated 2007.
• "This piece of writing is truly a pleasant one it assists new internet visitors, who are wishing for blogging." For a post in May 2008.
• "Very good post! We are linking to this great content on our site. Keep up the great writing." For a June 2007 post—and none of the podcast posts have any real writing, not like actual blog posts.
• "You’ve made some really good points there. I looked on the net for more information about the issue and found most people will go along with your views on this web site." For a post in May 2007
• "Hello there! This is my first visit to your blog! We are a group of volunteers and starting a new initiative in a community in the same niche. Your blog provided us useful information to work on. You have done a marvellous job!" For a June 2007 post.
• "Good day very nice blog!! Man .. Excellent .. Amazing .. I will bookmark your web site and take the feeds also? I am satisfied to search out a lot of helpful info right here in the post, we’d like work out more strategies in this regard, thank you for sharing. . . . . ." For a different June 2007 post.
And finally, another one for that January 2013 post:
• "Hey There. I found your blog using msn. This is a really well written article. I’ll be sure to bookmark it and return to read more of your useful information. Thanks for the post. I will definitely return."
And there my fun ended.
I realised I hadn’t checked the Blogger comment queue in ages, and there were spam comments caught there, of course, but there were also a lot from real people I actually know—including several from Roger Green.
The AmeriNZ Podcast site is actually a self-hosted Wordpress blog (which I’ve mentioned before), and it has extensive features to manage spam comments (and also legit ones from real people). Part of that is because I have Aksimet fully integrated, and its spam filters are great.
Blogger’s in-built system, on the other hand, is as bare-bones as it could possibly be: There are no bulk actions, which (on the podcast site) allows me to delete multiple spam comments with two clicks. Blogger doesn’t have a separate spam queue, so I have to click each individual comment to mark it as spam or delete it or approve it. That’s tedious, but that’s also dangerous: A moment’s lapse in concentration, and a real comment can be deleted permanently, something that would be far less likely to happen if it had a separate spam queue.
Long-time readers may remember a time when commenting here was different, back when I used Disqus. That ended in July of last year when I accidentally deleted the code that let this blog use Disqus, and that borked the whole thing, hurtling me back into the distant past where Blogger lives (that’s a little unfair: Not long ago, Google forced Blogger users to use their new, very, very slightly improved version; commenting system improvements were not among the changes).
The thing is, while Blogger can be very annoying, it’s generally easier to use than the free version of Wordpress. The value of both sites lies mainly in that they keep the blog safe from DOS or other cyberattacks, and that’s not necessarily true for self-hosted Wordpress blogs (at one time or another all mine have been taken offline by hacks that I had to fix—one time by talking with the help desk at the site hosting company.
What to do? I have longer-term plans that I’m working on, but in the meantime I’m going to try to get Disqus back online for this blog because that would make my life the easiest of all. That may not be the ultimate solution, though.
I think those spam comments are stupid because they’re stupid: It would be hard for someone to take most of those comments as being real because they’re so transparently fake and irrelevant (the most obvious spam comments, the ones with lots of links, are caught by almost all spam filters). However, I think that maybe spammers/scammers are realising it’s a pretty futile effort: There were 73 comments in the spam queue on the podcast site, and maybe half that in this blog’s all-inclusive comment queue (I forgot to count, but that sounds about right). Time was, I got dozens of spam/scam comments every single day (sometimes many, many dozens). That’s just not happening at the moment. I do think that it could also be because of the very low number of visits the two sites get, but I’d like to think they’re getting sick of doing it. I live in hope.
So, something that started as a bit of fun ended up letting me see that the commenting system on this blog is far from perfect, and I need to fix it. Right now, though, I have no further comment on that, spam or otherwise.
Yesterday, I had to go to the AmeriNZ Podcast site to do a little manual maintenance, which I’d been putting off. While there, I decided to clear the spam comment queue, something I put off even longer. I shared some of the “greatest hits” on Facebook, saying:
Today I saw a comment left a few days ago at the AmeriNZ Podcast site: "Very rapidly this web page will be famous among all blogging viewers, due to it’s pleasant articles or reviews". Awwwww! Too bad it was intended for a post from January 2013. Amazingly, it was in the spam queue! Of course, WAS is the important word here: My spam queue is now empty. Happy days. 😆I wasn’t done! I copied more fun and games into the comments, adding my own snarky remarks:
• "It’s the best time to make some plans for the future and it is time to be happy. I’ve read this post and if I could I wish to suggest you few interesting things or tips. Perhaps you can write next articles referring to this article. I wish to read even more things about it!" If I could wish to suggest spammers/scammers bathe in a vat of acid…
• "Everything is very open with a precise description of the issues. It was truly informative. Your site is very useful. Thank you for sharing!" Was intended for a post in May 2015.
• "Hi, this is Irina. I am sending you my intimate photos as I promised." Oh, My! Poor "Irina" didn't bother to read the About page—how embarrassing for her!
• I actually get a lot spam like this: "I know this if off topic but I’m looking into starting my own blog and was wondering what all is required to get set up? I’m assuming having a blog like yours would cost a pretty penny? I’m not very web savvy so I’m not 100% sure. Any suggestions or advice would be greatly appreciated. Appreciate it" (no fullstop). Left for the same post 2013 post as above.
Related (and all these were left around the same days):
• "Hey very nice blog!" Left for my first-ever post on that site, which as dated 2007.
• "This piece of writing is truly a pleasant one it assists new internet visitors, who are wishing for blogging." For a post in May 2008.
• "Very good post! We are linking to this great content on our site. Keep up the great writing." For a June 2007 post—and none of the podcast posts have any real writing, not like actual blog posts.
• "You’ve made some really good points there. I looked on the net for more information about the issue and found most people will go along with your views on this web site." For a post in May 2007
• "Hello there! This is my first visit to your blog! We are a group of volunteers and starting a new initiative in a community in the same niche. Your blog provided us useful information to work on. You have done a marvellous job!" For a June 2007 post.
• "Good day very nice blog!! Man .. Excellent .. Amazing .. I will bookmark your web site and take the feeds also? I am satisfied to search out a lot of helpful info right here in the post, we’d like work out more strategies in this regard, thank you for sharing. . . . . ." For a different June 2007 post.
And finally, another one for that January 2013 post:
• "Hey There. I found your blog using msn. This is a really well written article. I’ll be sure to bookmark it and return to read more of your useful information. Thanks for the post. I will definitely return."
And there my fun ended.
I realised I hadn’t checked the Blogger comment queue in ages, and there were spam comments caught there, of course, but there were also a lot from real people I actually know—including several from Roger Green.
The AmeriNZ Podcast site is actually a self-hosted Wordpress blog (which I’ve mentioned before), and it has extensive features to manage spam comments (and also legit ones from real people). Part of that is because I have Aksimet fully integrated, and its spam filters are great.
Blogger’s in-built system, on the other hand, is as bare-bones as it could possibly be: There are no bulk actions, which (on the podcast site) allows me to delete multiple spam comments with two clicks. Blogger doesn’t have a separate spam queue, so I have to click each individual comment to mark it as spam or delete it or approve it. That’s tedious, but that’s also dangerous: A moment’s lapse in concentration, and a real comment can be deleted permanently, something that would be far less likely to happen if it had a separate spam queue.
Long-time readers may remember a time when commenting here was different, back when I used Disqus. That ended in July of last year when I accidentally deleted the code that let this blog use Disqus, and that borked the whole thing, hurtling me back into the distant past where Blogger lives (that’s a little unfair: Not long ago, Google forced Blogger users to use their new, very, very slightly improved version; commenting system improvements were not among the changes).
The thing is, while Blogger can be very annoying, it’s generally easier to use than the free version of Wordpress. The value of both sites lies mainly in that they keep the blog safe from DOS or other cyberattacks, and that’s not necessarily true for self-hosted Wordpress blogs (at one time or another all mine have been taken offline by hacks that I had to fix—one time by talking with the help desk at the site hosting company.
What to do? I have longer-term plans that I’m working on, but in the meantime I’m going to try to get Disqus back online for this blog because that would make my life the easiest of all. That may not be the ultimate solution, though.
I think those spam comments are stupid because they’re stupid: It would be hard for someone to take most of those comments as being real because they’re so transparently fake and irrelevant (the most obvious spam comments, the ones with lots of links, are caught by almost all spam filters). However, I think that maybe spammers/scammers are realising it’s a pretty futile effort: There were 73 comments in the spam queue on the podcast site, and maybe half that in this blog’s all-inclusive comment queue (I forgot to count, but that sounds about right). Time was, I got dozens of spam/scam comments every single day (sometimes many, many dozens). That’s just not happening at the moment. I do think that it could also be because of the very low number of visits the two sites get, but I’d like to think they’re getting sick of doing it. I live in hope.
So, something that started as a bit of fun ended up letting me see that the commenting system on this blog is far from perfect, and I need to fix it. Right now, though, I have no further comment on that, spam or otherwise.
Saturday, April 24, 2021
AmeriNZ Podcast episode 354 now available
The five most recent episodes of the podcast are listed on the sidebar on the right side of this blog.
Friday, April 23, 2021
Powerful mission accomplished
Yesterday, my solar power system was switched on and generated electricity for the first time. It wasn’t an ideal day—there were heavy clouds for part of it, and electricity generation plummeted when that happened (though it still made power, of course). The main thing for me was what I said when I shared the news on my personal Facebook: “Mission accomplished, Nigel.”
When the solar panels were installed a couple weeks ago, I talked about all the reasons I was getting solar power installed, and I mentioned that Nigel dreamed of us generating our own electricity. I said:
This happened because the inspector showed up yesterday and switched the system on (partly so he could inspect it when it was on). He said they’re way behind in inspections because they have so many to do, partly because of all the new residential construction, and also because of the number of solar systems being installed. Harrisons are also flat out installing PV solar systems, too. I hope I’ll be able to get some data on that at some point, but I like that even anecdotally more people are turning to generating their own electricity.
I planned on doing laundry and running the dishwasher today, but it was a mostly cloudy day, so I skipped the dishwasher (which was a very wise choice). Doing the laundry used much less power than normal, maybe even none at some points, and it was a higher priority.
It’ll be months before I have a clear sense of how it’s going, how it’s affecting my power bills. I’ll be keeping track of it all on a spreadsheet, so I definitely plan on talking about that in more detail later on.
For now, though, there was one other thing that made me happy: April 22 is Earth Day, and my solar power system went live on Earth Day. I like that. Mainly, though, what’s personally important to me is that I achieved something to put my values into action, and that, in my own way, I fulfilled one of Nigel’s dreams.
Mission accomplished, Nigel.
When the solar panels were installed a couple weeks ago, I talked about all the reasons I was getting solar power installed, and I mentioned that Nigel dreamed of us generating our own electricity. I said:
…One of the biggest things for me is that I’ll be at least near self-sufficiency in electricity generation, which had been Nigel’s dream. I couldn’t do it the way he wanted, but I’m trying to do it in a way that’s right for me. He’d approve.He definitely would approve, something I know because our values aligned so very much. And, it makes me happy, and that, too, would make him happy.
This happened because the inspector showed up yesterday and switched the system on (partly so he could inspect it when it was on). He said they’re way behind in inspections because they have so many to do, partly because of all the new residential construction, and also because of the number of solar systems being installed. Harrisons are also flat out installing PV solar systems, too. I hope I’ll be able to get some data on that at some point, but I like that even anecdotally more people are turning to generating their own electricity.
I planned on doing laundry and running the dishwasher today, but it was a mostly cloudy day, so I skipped the dishwasher (which was a very wise choice). Doing the laundry used much less power than normal, maybe even none at some points, and it was a higher priority.
It’ll be months before I have a clear sense of how it’s going, how it’s affecting my power bills. I’ll be keeping track of it all on a spreadsheet, so I definitely plan on talking about that in more detail later on.
For now, though, there was one other thing that made me happy: April 22 is Earth Day, and my solar power system went live on Earth Day. I like that. Mainly, though, what’s personally important to me is that I achieved something to put my values into action, and that, in my own way, I fulfilled one of Nigel’s dreams.
Mission accomplished, Nigel.
Wednesday, April 21, 2021
The bubble opens
New Zealanders and Australians—despite rivalries and even disagreements—are closer than probably any other two sovereign countries. Our citizens live and work in each other’s countries freely, without the need for residence or work permits, and used to travel back and forth visa-free. Many people—including me—have family and friends on the other side of the Tasman, but our easy access to each other ended more than a year ago.
The global pandemic closed borders worldwide, and that included the two countries that are more like cousins than rigid nations, New Zealand and Australia. For more than a year, people have been separated with little practical ability to hug each other, even as travel eased somewhat in recent months.
That all changed on Monday when the bubble officially opened.
I watched some of the live feed from TVNZ’s One News, and I kept thinking to myself how much it reminded me of the final scene in the 2003 film Love Actually (a video of the sequence is below). Turns out, of course, lots of people thought the same thing.
Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern talked to the news media about the bubble opening, but was unable to be there. “I just would have loved to have been a bystander, to see those families reunited for the first time,” she said. “I think something like a scene from Love Actually is probably how I anticipate it would look and how it would feel. And I imagine it’s pretty close to it.”
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| A media scrum surrounding reunited people. |
That evening, TVNZ’s Seven Sharp programme reinforced the idea by ending their show with a montage of news footage of arrivals throughout New Zealand, with the Beach Boys’ “God Only Knows” [also: WATCH/LISTEN]. It was actually quite nice.
I’ve long thought that the arrivals halls of major airports—international arrivals in particular—are among the happiest places on earth because of all the friends and families reunited there with tears, hugs, kisses, smiles, and love. It’s hard not to tear up watching it all.
We can’t know for sure that this bubble experiment will work, but for the sake of all the people finally reunited, those still planning to be, and also the tourism/hospitality businesses who need foreign visitors, I certainly hope it succeeds. The worst thing for everyone would be if the bubble is abruptly popped by one government or the other.
Right now, though, I prefer to remember the happy scenes at the airports yesterday. Here’s to many more.
The photo at the top of this post is a screenshot of international passengers’ entryway into the public arrivals hall, with a sign from Auckland International Airport above it. The photo of the media scrum is also a screenshot, and chosen to avoid showing the people at the centre of it.
I’ve long thought that the arrivals halls of major airports—international arrivals in particular—are among the happiest places on earth because of all the friends and families reunited there with tears, hugs, kisses, smiles, and love. It’s hard not to tear up watching it all.
We can’t know for sure that this bubble experiment will work, but for the sake of all the people finally reunited, those still planning to be, and also the tourism/hospitality businesses who need foreign visitors, I certainly hope it succeeds. The worst thing for everyone would be if the bubble is abruptly popped by one government or the other.
Right now, though, I prefer to remember the happy scenes at the airports yesterday. Here’s to many more.
The photo at the top of this post is a screenshot of international passengers’ entryway into the public arrivals hall, with a sign from Auckland International Airport above it. The photo of the media scrum is also a screenshot, and chosen to avoid showing the people at the centre of it.
Monday, April 19, 2021
The missing raised glass
I wasn’t at the party because it was in Queenstown, and that meant someone would have to look after my furbabies. At the time everything was planned, tickets were booked, and reservations made, Sunny was very sick. I knew I couldn’t leave her in anyone else’s care, a decision that was continually reaffirmed as her health continued to slowly decline. I didn’t change my mind after she died in February.
The thing is, it wasn’t just that I couldn’t leave Sunny in the care of just anyone, it was that I couldn’t leave any of the furbabies in the care of just anyone. The family members who would normally stay with them if I was away were all going to be at the party, and, at the time, there really wasn’t anyone else I could ask. There was also no way I was going to leave Jake and Leo at a kennel; Nigel wasn’t a fan of kennels any more than I am, but me putting them in one right now was absolutely unthinkable.
In a post yesterday, I hinted at why that was the case: “There have been times over the past 18+ months in which [my furbabies] were the reason I was able to keep moving.” From the very beginning of my grief journey, the furbabies not only helped to keep me moving, they also kept me alive. I don’t know that I’d have considered ending my pain if I hadn’t had them (I doubt it), but I know for certain that the fact they were there meant there was no way the thought could even enter my head: They needed me—and I needed them.
Both the times and I have changed since then. I still need them, but now it’s mainly for companionship: There are many days in a week in which they’re the only beings I talk to. Even that small thing has helped.
Although I no longer need them (seemingly) merely as a reason to remain alive, they nevertheless still give my life some purpose and meaning, both of which are otherwise missing right now: Because they depend on me and rely on me for their very survival, it’s important that I remain focused and present for them. This isn’t enough for the long term, obviously, but for now? It’s just fine.
This has given me the small, comfortable space I need in order to rebuild my life. Just like a house, my new life has to be anchored in the ground so that it can rise upward, and while technically this new house/life is still at the groundworks stage (clearing and preparing the land for the foundations to be laid), I’m at this stage at all because I have my furbabies with me, demanding attention, food, to go outside, and more attention. It’s impossible to be too submerged within oneself when big brown dog eyes are looking up at you—especially at meal time.
Obviously humans are extremely important in this process, too—of course they are—but my furbabies are the ones I spend most of my time with, and so, they have a huge presence in my life. I’ve shared daily life with them for many years—nearly 14, in the case of Jake (he arrived to live with us in June of 2007), so it makes sense I’d need them as a sort of emotional touchstone, the one thing from the life I lost that’s still there (even if Sunny isn’t).
What this all means is that the furbabies provided the emotional shelter I needed in order to begin to figure things out. Along the way, I started to work out what I want to do with the rest of my life, and how I want to live it. I’m not very far along in that process, but it’s started, and those dogs of mine have helped make that possible just by being there.
Because of all that, I couldn’t go to that party and leave them in the care of just anyone. I couldn’t risk anything happening to them and me not being there with them, and I especially couldn’t risk putting them in a situation where there was even a remote chance of something happening without me there. I owe it to them to look after them to the best of my abilities (clearly not just because I promised Nigel I would). Over time, I’ll continue to relax and will worry less about what could happen to them, but I’m not there yet.
So, if I’d posted that photo, I’d have known all the reasons I couldn’t be at that party, and, in my mind, that would’ve made that photo all about me, not the birthday girl (and the family) I was toasting. I’m also not sure that everyone would’ve understood/approved of the reasons I couldn’t be there. All of that makes this blog the perfect place to share it, because here I can talk about such things, as I do so much of my grief journey.
Anyone enduring a journey through profound grief will encounter all sorts of things that will help them, some more obvious and approved of than others. I’ve learned that it’s important to take the help that makes sense to us, things that, well, help, and that it’s important to do that even if others may not understand or even approve.
My furbabies have helped a lot over the past 18+ months. I guess I’m really raising my glass to them, too.
Sunday, April 18, 2021
Gratuitous furbaby photos
Just because.
I took both photos, one after the other, this past Thursday. At the time, Leo was seated on the back of the sofa, right above Jake. When I saw them, Jake was both awake and in good light. I like both, but I especially like the way Jake's looks a black and white photo, though it isn't one.
AmeriNZ Podcast episode 353 now available
The five most recent episodes of the podcast are listed on the sidebar on the right side of this blog.
Saturday, April 17, 2021
Powering up, part two
I would’ve talked about this on the day—I planned to—but I just got too tired, and didn’t have a chance then or the following day. However, on Thursday afternoon I posted the above photo on my Instagram, and said:
One week ago today, I had solar power (PV) panels, and the equipment to use them installed. Today the lines company swapped the power meter for one that can tell I’m sending power out (and so, I won’t be charged for the electricity I generate, and I may even make some money). Now I’m just waiting on the inspection of the electrical work to make sure it meets code, and then I can switch it on. The photo is of me and the PV panels today, after the meter was changed.That sums up what happened last week and this week, because I realised I hadn’t posted anything to Instagram about it. I wanted to share the project there, too, because the people I interact with there, on my personal Facebook, and through this blog are different, despite some overlaps. One of my minor goals in this project has been to normalise installing PV systems, and, by doing so, to encourage other people to do it, too. Well, that’s my hope, anyway. I also chose to do a selfie with the panels because selfies seem to be better liked on Instagram than ordinary photos, and because a photo of the new meter was pointless (see below).
Nigel and I both wanted to tread a little more lightly on the planet, including by generating our own power, something he spent a couple years researching, preparing for, and dreaming about. He didn’t live to see the dream come true, so I’m finishing it for him.
The final part of this project is the inspection, and it’s the last thing stopping me from turning the system on. Despite my eagerness to get it going, there’s a good reason to wait: Once inspectors approve the installation’s electrical connections, they’ll issue a CCC (“Certificate of Code Compliance” or “Code Compliance Certificate” – both names are used). That’s an official government record that says, basically, it was done properly and according to code (which I’m sure it was). If I switched on the system without the CCC and there was a fire that was caused by an electrical fault in the system, as highly improbable as that is, my house and contents insurance probably wouldn’t cover the claim. This is one time when patience is mandatory.
The delay lets me indulge in some of my usual joking. This afternoon, after the rain finally broke and the afternoon sun streamed in through the windows and stacker doors on the western side of the house, I looked at it and said out loud, “look at all that electricity pouring in!” I was, of course, echoing Nigel’s joke about the wind, “Listen to all that electricity!”, something I mentioned last week. I also said out loud, “that one’s for you, Nigel.”
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The meter is behind opaque glass and not very interesting. Those who know me well also know that the fact there are all those stickers irritate me, but not as much as the fact that they're not aligned—and especially that the PV sticker is way off centre. |
I guess I’m not really just building power self-sufficiency: I’m also building a bridge from the life I had and loved to whatever my life will become. That’s a lot of significance for one project to carry. None of the other projects have been so significant, and will most of the ones I still have planned won’t be, either. They’re all bridges of a different sort, mostly connecting where I am to where I want to be.
Speaking of which, I'm already starting on my next project.
Thursday, April 08, 2021
Powering my future
Nigel had a part-dream, part-fantasy of us being largely self-sufficient. I shared in his overall vision, though maybe not the parts about growing our own food, because I knew that would largely fall on me—or would it? In his last couple years, Nigel took increasing interest in our tomato crop, so it’s not hard to imagine that he might become equally enthused about more food growing, especially when he retired. But as for the rest—the other things involved with living sustainably and self-sufficiently—I shared that dream.
In his last couple years, Nigel was determined to put up a wind turbine to generate electricity. When we’d hear the wind blowing outside, he’d say, “Listen to all that electricity!” The first turbine he bought was too large for our nearly quarter-acre section surrounded on all sides by similar-sized properties, six in total. So, he bought a smaller turbine. “I just want to generate enough electricity to power our computer servers and a bit more," he said. He would’ve been happy for more, of course, but he at least wanted to offset the “excess” power that we used.
When he died, the wind turbine idea died, too. I knew I’d be living in a town and wouldn’t be able to have a large turbine, and I also knew that those things need maintenance and care and I simply wasn’t up to that on any level. And so, it seemed our dream had died.
But then it turned out that it hadn’t.
An opportunity to revive it opened up in December last year when I decided against putting in an expensive ducted air conditioning system. I decided to spend the money instead on PV (photovoltaic) solar panels.
I contacted the folks at Harrisons Energy, and the franchisee for this area, based in Tauranga, came out to meet me and get information to work out a quote. I decided on them because, although not the cheapest, I knew they were a reputable company, were reliable, and had been around for many years, which could be important if anything went wrong.
The guy gave me three options for panels—cheaper (but good, highly rated) ones from a Chinese company, mid-price ones from LG, and expensive ones from a German company. Each of them rated well in independent rankings (I checked), but in the end I went with the LG. The other two companies had begun within the past decade, whereas LG has been around for some six decades, and they invest millions in R&D. That mattered to me because if anything went wrong with the panels, and Harrisons had gone out of business, the manufacturer, at least, should still be around as a last resort. And, there wasn’t that much difference in performance, anyway.
Rain delayed installation until today, and the guys arrived a little after nine this morning. They finished around 4:30-ish (a photo of the completed installation is above). I opted for a higher spec inverter (the device that takes the solar power from the PV collectors and makes it usable) because it’s ready to go for a plug-in electric car, which, right now, I hope to have eventually. I also opted for a special device that ensures power for the hot water tank is prioritised. That’s because in a typical house electric hot water heating accounts for up to 40% of all the power used in the house, partly because it switches on frequently in order to keep the water hot. Unfortunately, the device I ordered is on back-order at the moment.
I didn't get a battery pack to use at night: The cost for that alone was about 30% higher than the cost of the entire system I chose, installed. There are also environmental and ethical concerns about those battery packs that will eventually be solved, but that’s not now. Also, it seems likely that plug-in electric cars will become the battery storage for houses. One day a couple years ago, maybe, Nigel and I were driving home, and he gave me a detailed description of how that would work, what it would mean, and the technical ins and outs. I understood some of what he was saying, but I remember how he was very convincing—and enthusiastic.
My new system is up and working, however, it’s switched off at the moment. I need two things before I can use it: First, the installation has to be inspected and approved (because it connects to the national power grid, and so, must meet both code and requirements for that, and also because it involves major changes to the house’s power supply).
Second, I need a new ultra-smart meter that can sense the power I’m sending out to the grid so I can be paid for it. Right now, I have what used to be considered a smart meter, because it can be read remotely and because it can record the time power is used so it could use differential charging (where available), neither of which old-fashioned meters could do. However, the current not-so-smart-after-all meter can’t work out what’s happening with power I generate, and would treat it as power I’d consumed, rather than produced—and that means I’d pay the electricity company for the power I generated. Yeah, nah. In most cases, though, at least some old-fashioned meters could simply “spin backwards”, so maybe they weren’t so not-smart after all.
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| Me and a PV panel. |
Based on the amount of power I actually use, I may achieve, or get very near to, self-sufficiency in electricity. That means that—at the very least—my power bills will be a fraction of what they are now. This will matter a lot when I retire. In fact, much of what I’ve been doing to this house has been about making it more comfortable for me for years to come, maybe until I die some decades from now.
However, one of the biggest things for me is that I’ll be at least near self-sufficiency in electricity generation, which had been Nigel’s dream. I couldn’t do it the way he wanted, but I’m trying to do it in a way that’s right for me. He’d approve.
It also puts my values in action. Not everyone can afford PV solar cells, obviously, however, I believe that those of us who can manage to do it should install them. The reason is simple: New Zealand needs more power generation, and if everyone who could do so installed PV on their roofs, it would dramatically reduce the need for new power plants, and it would help achieve New Zealand’s goal of achieving 100% renewable and non-polluting energy generation. Earlier generations sacrificed and did their bit to help their country win world wars, and, to me, this is similar: I’m doing my bit to help New Zealand, and to help fight climate change: It's my values in action.
It’s not every day that we can achieve anything that's so powerful to us. Today, I did that, and I’m very happy about that.
The names of products listed are all registered trademarks, and are used here for purposes of description and clarity. No company or entity provided any support or payment for this blog post, and all products were purchased by me at normal retail prices. So, the opinions I expressed are my own genuinely held opinions, and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the manufacturers, any retailer, or any known human being, alive or dead, real or corporate. Just so we’re clear.
AmeriNZ Podcast episode 352 now available
Today I talk about the announcement of a quarantine-free travel bubble with Australia.
The five most recent episodes of the podcast are listed on the sidebar on the right side of this blog.
Wednesday, April 07, 2021
Bubble rising
Yesterday, New Zealand Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern announced that quarantine-free travel between New Zealand and Australia will begin on Monday, April 19. She said that there are protocols and systems in place to make this possible, but nothing can be guaranteed, so it remains “flyer beware”.
The entire thing is based on the fact that both New Zealand and Australia are generally Covid-free. It’s “generally” because both countries have had outbreaks connected with arrivals from overseas. That’s why it’s “flyer beware”, because if an outbreak happens flights could be paused or suspended.
If there’s a limited, short-term lockdown because of a case from an unknown source, flights may be suspended for 72 hours. But if there’s a longer lockdown and multiple cases from unknown sources, flights could be suspended for a longer time.
If flights are suspended—long or short term—travellers to New Zealand may face additional requirements, including: Getting a pre-departure test before flying, self-isolating and getting a Covid-19 test, or if the person is flying from a state where travel has been paused, they may go into managed isolation when they arrive in New Zealand. This is especially important for New Zealand citizens and permanent residents who may have been stuck in Australia due to an outbreak suspending flights.
On the plus side (for travellers), this is being organised on a state-by-state basis, so if an outbreak happens in, say, Queensland, a traveller would still be able to fly from Melbourne. Theoretically. Flyer beware.
All passengers on trans-Tasman flights will be required to wear masks (which is kind of a big deal on what can be a four-hour (or longer) flight), and they won’t be allowed to board if they show cold or flu symptoms. New Zealand will also conduct random temperature checks on people arriving in New Zealand.
All passengers flying between the two countries will travel though a “green zone”, in which trans-Tasman passengers will be kept physically separated from any other flyers (like, for example, NZ citizens and permanent residents flying back to NZ from other countries outside Australia). The air crews on those “green zone” flights will also not have worked on flights from potentially risky countries before a trans-Tasman flight.
The health and Covid-19 authorities in the Australian states and New Zealand will work to share information to minimise sudden, surprise changes in the ability to fly quarantine-free, and to ensure they have systems and protocols that remain effective at preventing spread of the virus.
As I said recently, I would’ve preferred that the two countries waited until more of their people were vaccinated. However, I also noted:
There’s also the chance that this will be a disaster, leading to an actual second wave in both countries. But this is highly unlikely. If anything, it’s more that a case or two might pop up and remain under control.
If this works, it could provide a blueprint that other countries may be able to follow to at least partially re-open their borders. Not everyone thinks this is worth the risk, and I, too, have worries about it. But the alternative is to remain closed indefinitely, and that may cause other kinds of harm.
Risk? Yes, Acceptable? Kind of.
The graphic above is part of a handout at the Prime Minister’s press conference. The full PDF is available from the link to the announcement.
The entire thing is based on the fact that both New Zealand and Australia are generally Covid-free. It’s “generally” because both countries have had outbreaks connected with arrivals from overseas. That’s why it’s “flyer beware”, because if an outbreak happens flights could be paused or suspended.
If there’s a limited, short-term lockdown because of a case from an unknown source, flights may be suspended for 72 hours. But if there’s a longer lockdown and multiple cases from unknown sources, flights could be suspended for a longer time.
If flights are suspended—long or short term—travellers to New Zealand may face additional requirements, including: Getting a pre-departure test before flying, self-isolating and getting a Covid-19 test, or if the person is flying from a state where travel has been paused, they may go into managed isolation when they arrive in New Zealand. This is especially important for New Zealand citizens and permanent residents who may have been stuck in Australia due to an outbreak suspending flights.
On the plus side (for travellers), this is being organised on a state-by-state basis, so if an outbreak happens in, say, Queensland, a traveller would still be able to fly from Melbourne. Theoretically. Flyer beware.
All passengers on trans-Tasman flights will be required to wear masks (which is kind of a big deal on what can be a four-hour (or longer) flight), and they won’t be allowed to board if they show cold or flu symptoms. New Zealand will also conduct random temperature checks on people arriving in New Zealand.
All passengers flying between the two countries will travel though a “green zone”, in which trans-Tasman passengers will be kept physically separated from any other flyers (like, for example, NZ citizens and permanent residents flying back to NZ from other countries outside Australia). The air crews on those “green zone” flights will also not have worked on flights from potentially risky countries before a trans-Tasman flight.
The health and Covid-19 authorities in the Australian states and New Zealand will work to share information to minimise sudden, surprise changes in the ability to fly quarantine-free, and to ensure they have systems and protocols that remain effective at preventing spread of the virus.
As I said recently, I would’ve preferred that the two countries waited until more of their people were vaccinated. However, I also noted:
If any two countries are in a position to make a quarantine-free travel bubble work, it’s New Zealand and Australia. It’s not without risk, but, then, nothing in life is. Maybe the benefits will far outweigh the risks. I suppose we’ll find out relatively soon.I think that’s the bottom line. I also think that the risk is relatively acceptable. Both countries—and especially New Zealand—need the money foreign tourists spend, and a lot of very ordinary people need that to be employed. That means this isn’t just about corporations pushing their demands: It will help even low-wage workers. It will also allow reunions of friends and family who haven’t seen each other in more than a year, which is a good thing by itself.
There’s also the chance that this will be a disaster, leading to an actual second wave in both countries. But this is highly unlikely. If anything, it’s more that a case or two might pop up and remain under control.
If this works, it could provide a blueprint that other countries may be able to follow to at least partially re-open their borders. Not everyone thinks this is worth the risk, and I, too, have worries about it. But the alternative is to remain closed indefinitely, and that may cause other kinds of harm.
Risk? Yes, Acceptable? Kind of.
The graphic above is part of a handout at the Prime Minister’s press conference. The full PDF is available from the link to the announcement.
Monday, April 05, 2021
40th Outaversary
I knew that today was the anniversary because of a Facebook “Memory” I shared today (partial screenshot above). All I noticed was that it was calling attention to a 2019 blog post about the 60th anniversary of my baptism. That post was titled, “60 and 38 years ago today”, and all I thought was that it was the year of my sixtieth birthday, and that inevitably made me think of what a terrible year that ended up being. That happens pretty much whenever I see any reminder from 2019.
That means that I didn’t stop to think much beyond that the post was talking about something that was now 62 years ago—but it never occurred to me to add two years to the other anniversary, the one that 2019 post actually points out was more important. I probably wouldn’t have noticed at all if my friend Andy hadn’t pointed it out to me. I don’t know if that’s ever happened to me before.
The fact that I’ve now been out for 40 years is significant, especially because so many of the gay men who came out when I did died decades ago. I survived through a combination of luck and my generally cautious nature. Along the way, I like to think, I did some good for us all.
The biggest and most important thing that happened to me after I came out is that I met Nigel, and we legally formalised our relationship, first with a Civil Union (because that’s all we had), then marriage when that became legal. The happiest and proudest thing I’ve ever done in my life so far was marrying Nigel. It mattered to me on a completely personal level, but also as someone who had struggled for so long to make the world a little less hostile to LGBT+ people: I felt like all the sacrifices I made in the 1980s and early 1990s were repaid.
When Nigel died, none of what I felt about our marriage died: I was still proud to be married to him. It’s one of the reasons I never changed my Facebook relationship status to “Widowed”—though, if I’m truly honest, good old fashioned lethargy was probably a much bigger reason. Regardless, I wanted to be an example of a happily married gay man.
That same thing showed up in so many other ways, including photos, as a I noted in a post back in January about birthday selfies:
I don’t know if I intended for the photos in 2015 and 2016 to have the same theme (I probably did), however, I do know that in both photos, as with so many others, I deliberately made sure that my left hand was visible because then my rings would be, too. I’ve always felt a responsibility to be a symbol of a happy, long-term gay relationship, and that’s the most consistently visible way I did that, even though I didn’t actually ever say that until nowI didn’t mean to keep that a “secret”—it probably just never occurred to me to mention it. What I do know is that I still wear my rings—the one from our civil union and the one from our marriage—and I do so for the same reason I said in January. I know some gay widowers take their rings off after awhile—sometimes they switch hands, sometimes they put them on a chain they wear around their neck, and some even have them made into something new. None of that is me. I have no intention of taking them off, and when I die I want them to go with my ashes (though I won’t be here, so, ya know, whatever).
For me, the bottom line is that I fought too hard for too long to not continue being an example now. I may not have my husband any more, but I’m still an out gay man, proud of trying my best to make the world better, and mostly, proudest of all about my years with and marriage to Nigel.
All of that—all of it—began forty years ago today. Damn right I’m celebrating it.
Related:
"Outaversary" – My 2016 blog post where I talked about my 35th Outaversary.
Jake is 14
As we did last year, Leo and I both sang him happy birthday (well, Leo more barked and howled, meaning he sounded better than me…). That’s literally true, too—we really did sing to Jake. As I noted last year:
For some reason, Leo always “sings along” with that song, and only that song, something that Nigel first noticed when it was used in something he was watching on TV and Leo started “singing”.I gave Jake a special birthday breakfast (and Leo got some, too). He also had a special birthday dinner (and Leo got some, too). Jake got lots of cuddles and extra attention, and deserved every bit of it.
It would’ve been nice if he’d let me take more photos—these are the best I could get. And, yet, that’s nothing new, either—he’s never been a good model.
So, Jake’s still a happy and reasonably active boy, despite being older and often acting like it. He seems happy and content, and that’s probably all that any of us could ask.
Two years ago I said that Jake “came to live with us at a sad time, and made the sadness go away.” That’s why Jake is my special boy, always has been, and why Nigel called him his special boy, too. He can’t take away my sadness, but he makes me not mind it quite so much, and that’s more than enough.
Happy Fourteenth Birthday, Jake!
Related posts:
Jake is 13
Jake is 12
Jake is 11
Jake is TEN
Jake is 9
Jake is 8
Jake is 7
Jake is 6
Jake turns 5
Jake is four
Jake turns three
Jake’s Birthday 2-day
Jake is one year old!
A new arrival
Sunday, April 04, 2021
Oh, yeah – it’s Easter
Easter hasn’t meant anything to me personally for a very, very long time—quite possibly not since I was a kid. I know for certain that it hasn’t meant anything special to adult me.
However, I still enjoyed observing it sometimes, and especially enjoyed spoiling Nigel, which I last did in 2019. I’m glad I did, because he seemed to enjoy it, and it turned out to be my last chance to shower him with Easter chocolates. When I left some chocolates for Nigel in 2015, he posted a photo on his Facebook and talked about how I was the best husband ever. It’s a nice, warming memory.
Last year was the first Easter without Nigel, and I certainly didn’t leave out any chocolates for myself. That would be a weird thing to do, even for me. On the other hand, Easter last year was during New Zealand’s lockdown, and I had bigger issues on my mind than Easter chocolate. I kept busy at that time, though: The day after Easter last year—the last day of the “holiday” weekend—was the first time I made soda bread, which seemed like a big deal at the time. I was actually pretty proud of myself.
This year, though, nothing: Easter’s just a Sunday in a four-day holiday weekend. I had nothing special planned for today, so I guess you could say I had a successful day, because I’ve pretty much done nothing today. Tonight I’m making pasta for dinner so I can use up the last of the tomatoes I rescued from my crop failure. But, then. I make pasta all the time, so that isn’t special, either.
The whole weekend has been pretty good, though: Friday night a bunch of us went to my brother- and sister-in-law’s house for dinner (I drove my mother-in-law and me). It was a really nice evening.
The next day, Saturday, I mowed my lawns, which made me feel I’d accomplished something. I also successfully accomplished a nap, as I did today, too.
Tomorrow? Dunno. I’d like to work in the garage, and I probably will, now that I’ve cleaned up my kitchen in the newly installed daylight, as I mentioned the other day. I also need to do laundry before I run out of underwear (and no one wants that to happen). It’ll be an ordinary day tomorrow, in other words. It’s a public holiday, though, so the shops will be busy.
It’s fair to say that this entire weekend has been ordinary for me, apart form being a four day holiday weekend, of course, and that’s been true for many years. It’s even more true now that I can’t spoil Nigel with Easter chocolates. But having a nice long, quiet holiday weekend? That’s a good thing, even without any special meaning.
This weekend has been a good thing so far. And that’s enough for me.
However, I still enjoyed observing it sometimes, and especially enjoyed spoiling Nigel, which I last did in 2019. I’m glad I did, because he seemed to enjoy it, and it turned out to be my last chance to shower him with Easter chocolates. When I left some chocolates for Nigel in 2015, he posted a photo on his Facebook and talked about how I was the best husband ever. It’s a nice, warming memory.
Last year was the first Easter without Nigel, and I certainly didn’t leave out any chocolates for myself. That would be a weird thing to do, even for me. On the other hand, Easter last year was during New Zealand’s lockdown, and I had bigger issues on my mind than Easter chocolate. I kept busy at that time, though: The day after Easter last year—the last day of the “holiday” weekend—was the first time I made soda bread, which seemed like a big deal at the time. I was actually pretty proud of myself.
This year, though, nothing: Easter’s just a Sunday in a four-day holiday weekend. I had nothing special planned for today, so I guess you could say I had a successful day, because I’ve pretty much done nothing today. Tonight I’m making pasta for dinner so I can use up the last of the tomatoes I rescued from my crop failure. But, then. I make pasta all the time, so that isn’t special, either.
The whole weekend has been pretty good, though: Friday night a bunch of us went to my brother- and sister-in-law’s house for dinner (I drove my mother-in-law and me). It was a really nice evening.
The next day, Saturday, I mowed my lawns, which made me feel I’d accomplished something. I also successfully accomplished a nap, as I did today, too.
Tomorrow? Dunno. I’d like to work in the garage, and I probably will, now that I’ve cleaned up my kitchen in the newly installed daylight, as I mentioned the other day. I also need to do laundry before I run out of underwear (and no one wants that to happen). It’ll be an ordinary day tomorrow, in other words. It’s a public holiday, though, so the shops will be busy.
It’s fair to say that this entire weekend has been ordinary for me, apart form being a four day holiday weekend, of course, and that’s been true for many years. It’s even more true now that I can’t spoil Nigel with Easter chocolates. But having a nice long, quiet holiday weekend? That’s a good thing, even without any special meaning.
This weekend has been a good thing so far. And that’s enough for me.
Saturday, April 03, 2021
Neighbourhood ways
I planned on mowing my lawns last weekend, but one thing after another got in the way: Saturday, March 27 was hot, and then Sunday began a week of rain and storms. It cleared Friday, but I was too busy. Today was the day!
I got up too early (because Leo barked), and thought about starting the mowing before it got too warm. Then I heard the next door neighbour mowing, and I didn’t want to start right then—it violated mowing protocol! When one hears one’s neighbour mowing, one must wait an appropriate amount of time before one also mows, lest it looks like the neighbour has shamed one into mowing. Heaven forbid.
As it happens, the delay awaiting for the appropriate time was appropriate for me, too, because I was tired and needed to wake up, after getting up far too early (because Leo barked). But, in the late morning, I decided it was time.
I mowed the front lawn, then mowed about a third or so fo the back. I stopped because I knew that the grass (weed patch…) was extra long and thick and it would consume the battery’s charge. I put the battery in the charger (a little more than half charge left…) and grabbed the line trimmer and its battery. I attacked the front (first time in many weeks), and moved to the back when I realised the line was used up. I need to put more line in. I also need to find out how to put more line in. I didn’t get very far in the back. I took that battery inside, put it on its charger: Roughly three quarters still usable.
At this point, I noticed the neighbour across the street was mowing his lawns. He, too, waited an appropriate amount of time after my mowing before mowing his lawns.
After lunch, the lawn mower battery fully charged, I finished the back lawn. The mower never stalled, but it clearly worked harder in some areas. When I put the battery back on the charger, it was more than half full—which means I was right: I would’ve run out of charge before finishing the back lawn. And, I got to use the line trimmer out front.
 |
| I closed all my rings in my Apple Watch. |
That, and my lawns are mowed.
I posted the photo above to Instagram/Facebook, but what I didn’t mention on either is that in the background of the photo is my compost bin, which was a weekend project back in September. I still use it all the time.
Friday, April 02, 2021
Okay Friday
If I were to do a podcast today, it would be called “Okay Friday”, because that's the sort of thing I do. Well, I’m not doing a podcast today—not on a holiday weekend—but the title is too good a thing to waste, so: A blog post instead.
There is, of course, an obvious joke in the title: Today is “Good Friday”, a day of some importance to Christians. I’m no longer a Christian, so-called, and the religious overtones no longer mean anything to me, but its name? That became a kind of joke, like “Nothing Particularly Special About It Friday” or some such. That’s not as funny to me as it once was. Now, this is just an “Okay Friday”. And that’s okay.
The fact is that every single day I’m working to make the day “okay”—it doesn’t have to be awesome, or even good, it’s enough for it to be merely okay. That’s because, as I so often say, “okay is good enough”, and also because sometimes it’s the best one can possibly hope for.
As should be obvious by now, I won’t pretend to be over my grief, I won’t play “happy” when I’m not. But, okay? That’s something altogether different. Okay is good enough.
The reality is that for me, and countless others in New Zealand, today is like any other Friday—except that it’s also a public holiday, one of three and a half days on which trading is prohibited (in most instances). That means getting stuff done on Good Friday can be a challenge—but, then, no commercials on TV, right? That’s a payoff. Right?
My perspectives now are very different than they were only two years ago, and I’m the first to acknowledge and point that out. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not right (or wrong, for that matter): Today is just a Friday, one with trading bans in place, but otherwise just another Friday. And the thing is? To me that’s okay.
To have a day that’s okay is a good thing. Trust me. And today? It’s an okay Friday. And okay is good enough.
There is, of course, an obvious joke in the title: Today is “Good Friday”, a day of some importance to Christians. I’m no longer a Christian, so-called, and the religious overtones no longer mean anything to me, but its name? That became a kind of joke, like “Nothing Particularly Special About It Friday” or some such. That’s not as funny to me as it once was. Now, this is just an “Okay Friday”. And that’s okay.
The fact is that every single day I’m working to make the day “okay”—it doesn’t have to be awesome, or even good, it’s enough for it to be merely okay. That’s because, as I so often say, “okay is good enough”, and also because sometimes it’s the best one can possibly hope for.
As should be obvious by now, I won’t pretend to be over my grief, I won’t play “happy” when I’m not. But, okay? That’s something altogether different. Okay is good enough.
The reality is that for me, and countless others in New Zealand, today is like any other Friday—except that it’s also a public holiday, one of three and a half days on which trading is prohibited (in most instances). That means getting stuff done on Good Friday can be a challenge—but, then, no commercials on TV, right? That’s a payoff. Right?
My perspectives now are very different than they were only two years ago, and I’m the first to acknowledge and point that out. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not right (or wrong, for that matter): Today is just a Friday, one with trading bans in place, but otherwise just another Friday. And the thing is? To me that’s okay.
To have a day that’s okay is a good thing. Trust me. And today? It’s an okay Friday. And okay is good enough.
Thursday, April 01, 2021
NZ storytelling ads
New Zealand has often used storytelling in TV advertising—in fact, it was one of the first things I noticed when I moved to New Zealand, though it’s much more common now. In any case, I really like them, and these are two that are running currently.
The video up top is “Lost and Found”, an ad for Trustpower and designed to promote the idea of getting electricity, gas, broadband Internet, phone, and mobile from the same company. I don’t know if that’s a good idea or not, but the ad is sweet and an interesting way of promoting the idea of belonging together.
The song in the background is “Lost and Found” by Age Pryor, A New Zealand performer, composer, and collaborator. I recognised his voice from a 2018 Trustpower ad, “We’ve got the time” (the 3-minute video from which the TV ad was cut is on YouTube). He appears in the ad and sings lead vocals. I didn’t know that was his name until the current ad: The ad came on TV, I recognised his voice, so I used Shazam to find out who it was. And now I know, so you do, too.
Another ad that, in this case, uses a couple to tell a story about a business’ products is one from the bank ASB:
This series of ads follows Ben and Amy as they navigate their way through, well, banking issues. The video above is the 45 second version of one of the current ads on TV, and it's one I quite like (another ad on TV at the moment, one promoting ASB’s Kiwisaver accounts, is on YouTube, and, while it’s good, I don’t personally like it as much as the ad above). Side note: The first word "Ben" says in the ad above is "Kashin", which is the name of a moneybox from ASB and later an elephant at Auckland Zoo.
Finally, and for background, a classic ad—from before the time I arrived in New Zealand:
This particular ad is form 1989 (some six years before I arrived in New Zealand) and introduced what came to be known as “the Anchor family” for the brand of dairy products they were were promoting. At the time, the brand was known as “Fernleaf”.
A couple years ago, Stuff published “The most memorable ads on New Zealand television ever”, and it include the Anchor Family series. They said this about it:
I love storytelling ads, and always have. Lucky for me I'm in a country that often has them.
The video up top is “Lost and Found”, an ad for Trustpower and designed to promote the idea of getting electricity, gas, broadband Internet, phone, and mobile from the same company. I don’t know if that’s a good idea or not, but the ad is sweet and an interesting way of promoting the idea of belonging together.
The song in the background is “Lost and Found” by Age Pryor, A New Zealand performer, composer, and collaborator. I recognised his voice from a 2018 Trustpower ad, “We’ve got the time” (the 3-minute video from which the TV ad was cut is on YouTube). He appears in the ad and sings lead vocals. I didn’t know that was his name until the current ad: The ad came on TV, I recognised his voice, so I used Shazam to find out who it was. And now I know, so you do, too.
Another ad that, in this case, uses a couple to tell a story about a business’ products is one from the bank ASB:
This series of ads follows Ben and Amy as they navigate their way through, well, banking issues. The video above is the 45 second version of one of the current ads on TV, and it's one I quite like (another ad on TV at the moment, one promoting ASB’s Kiwisaver accounts, is on YouTube, and, while it’s good, I don’t personally like it as much as the ad above). Side note: The first word "Ben" says in the ad above is "Kashin", which is the name of a moneybox from ASB and later an elephant at Auckland Zoo.
Finally, and for background, a classic ad—from before the time I arrived in New Zealand:
This particular ad is form 1989 (some six years before I arrived in New Zealand) and introduced what came to be known as “the Anchor family” for the brand of dairy products they were were promoting. At the time, the brand was known as “Fernleaf”.
A couple years ago, Stuff published “The most memorable ads on New Zealand television ever”, and it include the Anchor Family series. They said this about it:
When the first ad featuring young Sam and her newly single dad hit our screens, it represented something of a revolution in New Zealand TV.An interesting take on the series, I thought. The series was just ending when I arrived in New Zealand, but even then it was still obvious it wasn’t a typical ad. There’s a Facebook video that has all the ads, over some 20 minutes—which is a bit of a commitment. Still, if you zoom ahead to the last few ads, that will include the ads I saw.
Up until then, television families were almost exclusively nuclear, but Fernleaf, as Anchor was then, showed a divorced couple navigating their new lives and their relationship with the daughter they shared.
The first episode of what became a soap opera in 45-second instalments made its debut in 1989 and, for the next eight years, we watched Sam grow up and her family morph and change – just as we grew, and morphed, and changed.
I love storytelling ads, and always have. Lucky for me I'm in a country that often has them.
Updates March on
Six weeks ago, I resurrected update posts, which are blog posts in which I update older blog posts. I had no specific plans or schedule for doing more updates, but I think I’ll try once a month, and the first of the month is as good a time as any. And so, here we are.
First, an update about these updates.
These posts aren’t exactly easy to do. First, because I didn’t do them very often, there have always been a lot of posts that could use an update, most of which never got one. Life happens, and all that. The bigger issue is about how I do these: Every update includes a link back to the earlier post I’m talking about, of course, but then I add an update to that older post with a link to the specific part of the new update that talks about it. Linking to previous posts is something I do all the time, but not everyone sees posts in chronological order, so and update to that older post is needed. It’s mainly for the convenience of those out-of-sequence readers that I provide a link to the specific part of an update, but it also helps me when I’m doing a new post on that topic—it’s a quicker way for me to get the updated information. Yeah, sure, but it’s really just the sort of unimportant blogging mechanics I do all the time, but seldom mention. And probably a bit anal.
The best part of this? In a blog post providing updates, I forgot to give it the “Updates” tag, something I only found out when I started this post. Oddly enough, it’s not the first time I’ve fixed a mistake in an earlier post. Hard to believe, I know.
I am Mister Clean
A week ago today, I had a Solatube skylight installed in my kitchen, as I wrote about last Saturday. I said in that post, “Unfortunately, all this brightness has allowed me to see how poorly I’d been cleaning my kitchen up until now—I missed a lot because I simply couldn’t see it.” On Sunday (because I was busy before then…), I started the cleaning job, and it was a job: There was a bit of fine dust on the bench and everything on it from cutting the ceiling to put in the skylight lens. And, I had too much on my benchtop.
So, I put what I could into the dishwasher, wiped off or hand washed what I couldn’t, and then wiped down the benchtop in sections. This also allowed me to clear stuff away, mostly by putting things “somewhere” (most of the stuff was out in the first place because I didn’t have a “somewhere” for it to go, so I had to finesse things a bit). It took me a couple days (because I only worked on it when Ifelt like it had time). That job’s done now, and it turns out I was right in my post last Saturday: Being able to actually see the kitchen, and the cleaning I needed to do, actually was a sort of benefit.
Leo’s ritual
Early last month, I wrote about hanging Sunny’s collar so Leo could sniff it, and there’s been a change since then. I said in my post, “I plan on leaving [the collar] there until he stops sniffing it, and I have no idea how long that will be…” At the time I was thinking maybe a week or two. After all, Sunny’s ashes and collar had been home for nearly a month at that point, and Leo had sniffed it (at first, with my help).
Not long after that post, Leo developed a ritual: Every morning he wakes up when I stir, stretches a lot, yawns, then hops down on the floor—and walks right over to Sunny’s collar to give it a brief sniff. To me, it’s as if he’s saying a little “good morning” to her, but it could be as simple as making sure it’s still there, and/or that he’s not smelling her without seeing her. Whatever the truth is, he clearly still wants to sniff the collar (Jake sniffed it this morning, too, when I went back there for my shower), and I’ll leave it there until he stops. Looks like that may be awhile, and that’s okay. I’m trying to make sure he’s okay, after all.
Error: My success not found
In the middle of March, I published a post, “To err is human, the choice is mine” in which I talked about needing to try to do things, and even fail at them, in order to find out what my limits truly are. I said in that post that, “I’ve already made several” mistakes. When I wrote that, I was thinking about several, but especially a recent thing that I was beginning to think of of as another mistake: A garden shed I bought at the end of February, but that had a frustrating delayed delivery in early March. I began to feel that it was too small for my needs, and I considered sending it back. There’d be a cost, of course, but what held me back was more indecision, this time, of “what if it is okay?” I had to move the box when we brought back the stuff from my storage unit later that month. The box, it was clear, had never been properly sealed, and it started to fall apart when I moved it.
By then, I’d already begun to feel that I needed to own my mistake and put the shed up, anyway (though I’m fairly certain there’s great doubt that I can do it). I could try to sell the unassembled shed, but I know I’d never get anywhere near the (too high) price I paid for it (especially without the original box), so keeping it is probably the best option. I’m now taking this as a learning opportunity—a reminder to not be so damn impatient/impetuous. I absolutely sometimes take far too long to decide things because the fear of making mistakes, as I said in the post that began this update, paralyses me. I should have remained paralysed just a little bit longer. Live and learn—and err. It’s all okay.
Maybe I’ll do this again on May 1. Maybe I won’t. Either way, there will be changes to things I say on this blog, just as there have been from its very beginning. Change itself is one thing that doesn’t change.
First, an update about these updates.
These posts aren’t exactly easy to do. First, because I didn’t do them very often, there have always been a lot of posts that could use an update, most of which never got one. Life happens, and all that. The bigger issue is about how I do these: Every update includes a link back to the earlier post I’m talking about, of course, but then I add an update to that older post with a link to the specific part of the new update that talks about it. Linking to previous posts is something I do all the time, but not everyone sees posts in chronological order, so and update to that older post is needed. It’s mainly for the convenience of those out-of-sequence readers that I provide a link to the specific part of an update, but it also helps me when I’m doing a new post on that topic—it’s a quicker way for me to get the updated information. Yeah, sure, but it’s really just the sort of unimportant blogging mechanics I do all the time, but seldom mention. And probably a bit anal.
The best part of this? In a blog post providing updates, I forgot to give it the “Updates” tag, something I only found out when I started this post. Oddly enough, it’s not the first time I’ve fixed a mistake in an earlier post. Hard to believe, I know.
I am Mister Clean
A week ago today, I had a Solatube skylight installed in my kitchen, as I wrote about last Saturday. I said in that post, “Unfortunately, all this brightness has allowed me to see how poorly I’d been cleaning my kitchen up until now—I missed a lot because I simply couldn’t see it.” On Sunday (because I was busy before then…), I started the cleaning job, and it was a job: There was a bit of fine dust on the bench and everything on it from cutting the ceiling to put in the skylight lens. And, I had too much on my benchtop.
So, I put what I could into the dishwasher, wiped off or hand washed what I couldn’t, and then wiped down the benchtop in sections. This also allowed me to clear stuff away, mostly by putting things “somewhere” (most of the stuff was out in the first place because I didn’t have a “somewhere” for it to go, so I had to finesse things a bit). It took me a couple days (because I only worked on it when I
Leo’s ritual
Early last month, I wrote about hanging Sunny’s collar so Leo could sniff it, and there’s been a change since then. I said in my post, “I plan on leaving [the collar] there until he stops sniffing it, and I have no idea how long that will be…” At the time I was thinking maybe a week or two. After all, Sunny’s ashes and collar had been home for nearly a month at that point, and Leo had sniffed it (at first, with my help).
Not long after that post, Leo developed a ritual: Every morning he wakes up when I stir, stretches a lot, yawns, then hops down on the floor—and walks right over to Sunny’s collar to give it a brief sniff. To me, it’s as if he’s saying a little “good morning” to her, but it could be as simple as making sure it’s still there, and/or that he’s not smelling her without seeing her. Whatever the truth is, he clearly still wants to sniff the collar (Jake sniffed it this morning, too, when I went back there for my shower), and I’ll leave it there until he stops. Looks like that may be awhile, and that’s okay. I’m trying to make sure he’s okay, after all.
Error: My success not found
In the middle of March, I published a post, “To err is human, the choice is mine” in which I talked about needing to try to do things, and even fail at them, in order to find out what my limits truly are. I said in that post that, “I’ve already made several” mistakes. When I wrote that, I was thinking about several, but especially a recent thing that I was beginning to think of of as another mistake: A garden shed I bought at the end of February, but that had a frustrating delayed delivery in early March. I began to feel that it was too small for my needs, and I considered sending it back. There’d be a cost, of course, but what held me back was more indecision, this time, of “what if it is okay?” I had to move the box when we brought back the stuff from my storage unit later that month. The box, it was clear, had never been properly sealed, and it started to fall apart when I moved it.
By then, I’d already begun to feel that I needed to own my mistake and put the shed up, anyway (though I’m fairly certain there’s great doubt that I can do it). I could try to sell the unassembled shed, but I know I’d never get anywhere near the (too high) price I paid for it (especially without the original box), so keeping it is probably the best option. I’m now taking this as a learning opportunity—a reminder to not be so damn impatient/impetuous. I absolutely sometimes take far too long to decide things because the fear of making mistakes, as I said in the post that began this update, paralyses me. I should have remained paralysed just a little bit longer. Live and learn—and err. It’s all okay.
• • •
Maybe I’ll do this again on May 1. Maybe I won’t. Either way, there will be changes to things I say on this blog, just as there have been from its very beginning. Change itself is one thing that doesn’t change.
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