Look out Auckland...more Aussies are coming!

The number of Aussies in Auckland is set to rise next month, when some very dear friends come to stay.
They’re our first visitors so far this year. (Let’s face it: We’re obviously not very popular).
Anyway, I am sure they can’t wait to push a few trundlers, eat their own weight in in Pinkys and Perky Nanas, and help us sample a few more wines and beers.
In other news, my hand is mending very nicely, according to the specialist, but it’s still in a clunky cast. I’ve become very adept at one-handed typing, even managing to meet my work deadlines and (occasionally) update the blog.
Housework has been a challenge though (okay, it’s always a challenge), so I was thrilled to get a call from the ACC to say I qualified for some home help.
The ACC is New Zealand’s injury cover, and basically covers most of the costs of any injury which occurs here – medical costs, transport, even childcare if required. The trade-off is that you’re not allowed to sue, hence ruling out the ridiculous litigation cases we see in other countries.
Anyway, this means I’m getting 1 ½ hours help a week while my hand heals because I’m not able to do some basic household tasks.
My helper arrived on Monday and was wonderful, cleaning the kitchen and bathroom and changing a couple of beds.
Granted, it would have been nice to have the help a few weeks ago, when I was home alone, less mobile, and in considerable pain. (It can take up to a month for them to decide what you can claim).
But I’m certainly not complaining.
How wonderful it must be for the elderly to know they will get the care they need in the event of a fall or accident.
Sadly, the cover only applies for injury, not illness. So if, for example, I was incapacitated from pneumonia, as I was late last year, I’d be on my own. But since I’m incapacitated because of my own clumsiness, it's okay.
Maybe that’s why Aucklanders have that disconcerting habit of walking onto the street without looking for oncoming cars! They must be after a bit of physio or perhaps some home help. Either that, or they are barking mad!
Speaking of barking, I wish the budget ran to a long weekend in Queenstown, as they’re enjoying a winter festival down there.
Highlights include a mardi-gras, concerts, ski-ing, and of course, the Speight’s Dog Derby, which involves farmers sliding down an icy mountain on their bums, with their faithful dogs at their heel. Or bum. As you do.
(I'd be watching out for the yellow snow though!)
Afterwards, the shepherds and their hounds move to the Village Green for a barking contest. Apparently, if the dogs won’t oblige, the owners are allowed to get down on all fours and bark for them.
Barking I tell you!

H. and C. are enjoying their new responsibilities in the kitchen. Here they are making Shepherd's Pie

C. cooks, while H. - erm, actually I have no idea what she is doing!

The kids and Husband discovered a Mexican place while I was away recently, and have been dying to show me. So we went.

C. digging into nachos.

Eating out is thirsty work!

The offending hand

No wedding rings. (Sob). And I can't even do: Two for the Gabba!