There are times when the exciting inter-connectedness of the modern world is about as welcome as a cigarette butt in a beercan.

I have been happily taking a 4 day weekend. I don't get many of these: in fact, its been a while since I had a two day weekend.

Hauled the middle-aged frame, plus a small daypack, up to Robert Ridge above St Arnaud in Nelson Lakes National Park.  A glorious Friday afternoon.

Sat there, on the edges of the snowline. Rubbed knees, which these days have rather too much to say for themselves.

And the urge came over to check the iPhone.

I really must learn to resist these urges.

A flurry of releases about credit downgrades and the like were piling up in the inbox. Minister of Finance holding a presser at 3pm.

For an insane mini-second, I calculated the odds of getting back to the Beehive in time....

Then I looked out, taking in the expanse of territory out to the north and west, looking out, under a cloudless blue sky towards the snow on towards Mt Owen and Mt Arthur.

And thought, sod it.

There are times when the exciting inter-connectedness of the modern world is about as welcome as a cigarette butt in a beercan.

I have been happily taking a 4day weekend. I don't get many of these: in fact, its been a while since I had a two day weekend.

Hauled the middle-aged frame, plus a small daypack, up to Robert Ridge on a glorious Friday afternoon.

Sat there, on the edges of the snowline. Rubbed knees, which these days have rather too much to say for themselves.

And the urge came over to check the iPhone.

FOOL!

A flurry of releases about credit downgrades and the like were piling up in the inbox. Minister of Finance holding a presser at 3pm.

For an insane mini-second, I calculated the odds of getting back to the Beehive in time....

Then I looked out, taking in the expanse of territory out to the north and west, looking out, under a cloudless blue sky towards the snow on towards Mt Owen and Mt Arthur.

And thought, sod it.

Epiphany, the other day.

Did anyone else have kids in their class who used to decorate their English essays with flowers and the like? It was always the girls who weren't that good at English (there may, at some schools, been the odd boy but not at my school).

Then there were those of us who were actually good at English who would hand in a dog-eared, ink-blotched essay, perhaps even with bits of oil from sardine sandwiches on the edge, who got good marks but a ticking off for presentation and - usually in my case - for being a bit late.

Ever wondered what happened to the kids who drew pretty pictures?

I suddenly realised: they ended up in TV.


Now, Cactus Kate has called for the return of Mike 'no relation' Hosking to Breakfast TV. He was good at the job, I thought, although he and that Hawkesby woman did give the whole country the impression their chemistry was a little TOO good.

Personally I like Paul Henry, at least in the small doses I've seen him. I suspect I'd get fed up after a while but that's never going to be a worry for me.

I just like the sardonic look on his face when he has to present something really bad. It just says "You know this is crap. I know this is crap. But we'll do it anyway because one of the flowers-on-the-English-essay airheads say we have to."