Crack Willow

Wanaka has its famous tree…. But if it wasn't for the fact that it has grown (possibly from an old fence post) in the lake, with a stunning mountain backdrop, people wouldn’t give it a second glance. In fact, I believe it has become something of a mixed blessing for locals, as there are now year-round crowds of people on the lakefront, waiting to photograph it – as Ronel and I found out last year. Tussock's Boss admits to being a little 'over it.'  Here's another crack willow, growing near the Waimea River at Appleby, on the Great Taste Trail. I've never seen anyone take a photo of it. So today, I did. I couldn't decide whether this, or the archway (from either end, on Flickr) was better. I left the big camera at home and only took the compact G9, but this image and the first extra are actually iPhone shots.

Two phone calls from Gran this morning about her lost scissors (last seen yesterday!)  I had to dissuade her from calling Jonathan at work about them. In fact, I was on the point of going down there to look for them for her, when she found them. By then, she couldn't remember what she'd wanted them for – only that she didn't want them to be lost. On my way out to Appleby, listening to Mendelssohn in the car, it occurred to me that I haven't heard her play classical music (the only type of music she really likes) for a long time; nowadays it's always Trump on in the background. I wonder whether she's forgotten the station for Classic FM; I must find out, as I'm sure that classical music would be a lot more stimulating for her brain than CNN, especially since she's given up going to choir.

Since Friday, I've had this song stuck on my brain. My mother used to sing it when I was a very little girl, but I didn't actually know what it was called, so I searched Youtube and there it was. I had no idea that a) it was by Bernard Cribbins, or b) that it was a popular love song. It was released in 1960, so she was probably singing it while pregnant with me.  I feel that I may, indeed, be Going Quietly Bonkers. No-one wants to listen to my internal dialogue at the moment…. It's the ramblings of a madwoman.

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