12/3/2026 Newmarket day trip

So do you recall the splendid radish trousers I purchased in Sylvia Park Mall? Well I have  discovered after a bit of internet sleuthing that the Westfield Mall in Newmarket has a Dangerfield store that sells them. I adore the trousers and decided that if I’m going to wear pink checked radish trousers then I absolutely have to have the matching top to go with them. 

I booked an Uber and by the time I walked to the end of the drive of the Lodge I only had a thirty second wait and it pulled up. It was a twenty minute drive to Newmarket and the driver was really chatty. I had the most random conversation to date, even by my standards. He's been in New Zealand for 15 years and came here from Pakistan with his family. He was very angry about the cost of fuel in NZ. It has doubled  in a week, it's obviously had a knock on effect in the price of the Ubers and subsequently his profits. Once he got that off his chest he threw me completely by saying he loved Mr Bean, and thought that he would be a marvelous Prime mInister. To be honest i don’t think he can do any worse than any of the idiots we currently have  in number 10, in fact the thing i have most respect for in Downing street at the moment is Larry The Cat. Johnny English for PM is what my driver was for, either in NZ or the UK he wasn't fussy which. In his opinion they both need a shake up. I’m inclined to agree. 

After we’d discussed the merits of Mr Bean/Johnny English as World leaders, somehow his conversation segwayed into his hands and how they became injured. He told me they were from a bombing. All that remained of his left hand was half a thumb and his right hand was a mass of scars and skin grafts all the way up his arm with just two grafted digits. Having seen his physical scars, I can’t help but wonder at the extent of his mental and emotional scars, those that are unseen but must surely keep him awake at night and intrude on his daily thoughts.

The ride to Newmarket passed quickly and when I arrived it was right outside the part of the Mall  I needed to go. Newmarket is like a familiar pair of shoes. I'm comfortable there and know my way around. Going straight to Dangerfield I searched the store for the radish tops and was gutted to find they didn't have them, or quite a lot of the other things I'd liked in the Sylvia Park store either. One of the assistants came to offer me some help and so I asked him about the radish stuff. He told me that they'd had a delivery last week and that they were instructed to send the whole radish collection out to Sylvia Park. Which explained why I couldn't see it. I was so disappointed as I'd set my heart on them. The other assistant very kindly rang Sylvia Park and asked them to hold them for  me until Monday which was brilliant news, I can now zip over and pick them up. I tried on a few other bits and pieces and although they were really cute I couldn't help but think about the massive amount of quirky fabric I have stacked at home just waiting to be sewn up into garments. It's something else I can try to get back into when I get home. Once I have rearranged the ‘she shed’ because sewing in there as it currently is set up is not an option. I may even move it to the other bedroom.

Dangerfield is right next to Farmers and because they'd had such a fabulous sale in Sylvia Park I decided to check out this one. It was three times the size and the sale part for the women's clothes took up a whole floor. Better yet it was all arranged in sizes which has to be the perfect way to shop sale stuff. I gathered up armfulls of potential outfits off the rails and hooked the hangers onto my rucksack straps so my hands were still free to use the crutches. There was another lovely helpful assistant who kindly took the stuff I had selected to the changing rooms for me. Out of the twenty or so things I picked up i didn't like the way any of them looked on me so I left empty handed and a little disheartened. On the upside at least they were all the same size which would make it easy for the girls to put  away. 

Slightly fatigued, I went to the Red Rabbit coffee shop and had a vital and much needed reviving coffee. The crutches are doing me well, they're a lot more comfortable and the closed arm cuffs mean they don't fall on the floor every time I let them go.  Its still slow going but it is a positive step forward. While i was drinking coffee i pondered what else i could do with and concluded i was done for the day. All that was left was to hit Woolworths to pick up stuff for dinner for Morg and I. I managed to get all the food into the backpack which was a bit like a game of jenga, and then hopped in the lift down to the ground floor to go home.   It wasn't until I got to the end of Alpers Avenue I realised my error. In my own little dream world I'd completely forgotten I wasn't staying in Newmarket anymore but I had nevertheless  made my way almost to the door of the old accommodation we'd stayed in . FFS. Thankfully there was a bench and I sat on it to cry and release the build up snot bubbles. Feeling marginally better about my stupidity I popped my sunnies back on and ordered an Uber which arrived in minutes. 

Due to the location I was picked up at , our route back to Kohimarama took me back via Britomart and along the coast road which was nice for a change as i havent been along that way for a while. The ocean was really choppy due to the heavy winds and a really moody grey colour.  The boats that were moored up in the marinas were bobbing around like corks. It seemed to be a bit quicker coming that way, my driver wasn't as chatty, and there was no mention of Mr Bean for Prime Minister from him at all. He was very nice and dropped me right at the door of the unit next to the reception. I didn't want him to know which one I was in for no other reason than my spidey senses are on hyper alert constantly now and I don't really trust anyone.  I even waited until he'd left before going to my unit. I would love to know where all this  common sense and spy craft stuff is coming from!! 

I'd picked up a large lasagne for our dinner, it wasn't particularly healthy being a family sized frozen ready meal but it was substantial and with a tump of salad to go with it, was a nice change from chicken. It was actually surprisingly tasty and filling. Morg cleared away the table and loaded the dishwasher. I couldn't work out why there was so much crockery in the cupboards for a two person unit. I have now, its so you can keep putting the dirty dishes into the dishwasher until it’s full up and still have clean plates to use . bloody marvelous. It can go on in the morning after breakfast, because I'll have used up everything from the cupboards by then.

The ants in the unit are horrendous at the moment, but only when they smell a dirty plate, I don't even see them when the worktops are clear. In the time it had taken for Morgan and I to eat our dinner, they'd summoned the armies and the tray the lasagne had come in was black with them and you couldn't see the bottom of the tray. It was a bit disgusting but they disappeared from sight once I screwed up the tray and put it in the bag before liberally spraying inside the bag before tying the top. Sorted. 

The bite that exploded on my tummy is really itchy and still quite red , if it's still like it next week I may go to the pharmacy and ask their advice. In the meantime I'll douse it in tea tree oil, smother it in aloe vera and savlon and keep it covered overnight then let the air to it through the day.  I've got plenty of plasters. 

Morg stayed a little while and we discussed some stuff to do with home, he's a fantastic sounding board and is the sensible guide to my chaotic thought process. Once again I find myself  wondering how he puts up with me. 

Something rather strange has happened. There’s a big standing clock in the lounge area and it hasn’t worked on either time I’ve been here. Randomly tonight it  started ticking when Morgan and I were talking about Simon.  We just looked at each other and said at the same time ‘that clock just stated to work.’ Proper twiglet zone stuff I tell you!  

Much Love

Mrs Leonard

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