Saturday, August 16, 2014
The Gold Fish---that were not quite what I had expected!
Earlier in the week, I was contacted by my eldest brother (yes I am from a bog family)who lives in Putararu, a little town in the South Waikato, because he wanted me to pick up some Gold Fish he had won on Trade Me, new Zealand's [premier online site for the selling of---everything. All I had to do was pick them up ands bring take them down on Sunday, because we are having a family reunion---very convenient and easy enough to do. I rang the 'seller, who could only be contacted after six as he worked and couldn't use his phone at work. I guess that still happens! The arrangement was made for me to pick up the fish on Saturday just after six. I sent the guy a text and he said come on round. I had forgotten what it is like trying to read street numbers when it is dark, especially in areas that have changed so much since one had lived in them. Actually, I lived at a house with the same brother in my early days when I could be called 'young.' How it has changed---there are so many houses that have been built behind the original ones, consequently meaning that there are lots of cars parked on the narrow street. So I had to give way many times to allow other cars to pass by me while at the same time trying to figure out number 52! I gave up and got out and luckily for me---there was number 52, right in front of me. I trudged up the dark drive, hoping that there were no horrible people about to jump me--well it had that appearance---I'm not being a snob. I couldn't even see the main door--it was some sort of boarding house. I knocked on the door at the top of the stairs at the back and a guy came to the door, whereupon I suddenly realized that I didn't have the sellers name! Bugger!!!! I mumbled something about picking up fish from Trade me. Thankfully he was friendly enough but had no idea what the feck I was talking about. So much for my expensive education. I remembered that I had a card with the guys number on it and while the 'friendly guy' watched and allowed me to use the light of his kitchen, I was able to talk to the seller, who promptly directed me to the flats downstairs or correctly, an array of rented single rooms. He took me to his room (don't get excited!) where he gave me a little bag with 6 tiny fish in them. It was then that I noticed the tank form whence they came---a heated tank---yes ---tropical fish. I had pictured six big goldfish and was all prepared to be carrying several sizeable plastic bags that would taken up half the back seat of the car on their journey to the new home in some huge outside pool in Putararu! It occurred to me that the fish I was responsible for would need to be kept warm---well they are exotics from the tropics--right? He nice guy said--they would be fine as long as I kept them at 'room temperature.' So---big brother---I do hope the dear little and very pretty little fish survive their ordeal tomorrow. Maybe I shall hold them close to my chest, mothering them all the way to Putararu. If they die, we can make one special fritter. They sort of look like colourful Whitebait, after all. We can have it with that watercress that I saw on your film. As Miranda's mum says---such fun!