We had an impromptu pyjama party here the other night, as refugees from the snarled up end-of-Easter traffic came to stay at our bijou-by-the-highway. It was jolly good fun, especially compared to the alternative of taking four hours to crawl 80kms towards Wellington in first gear. I'm especially proud of the thrown together meal which managed to satisfy the gluten-intolerant guest, the garlic-onion-intolerant guest, the kosher-for-passover hostess, the vegetarian host and the one person who will eat anything with gusto, especially if there's a glass of wine to wash it down.
Two days later I'm trusting that the traffic has eased and my own journey to the Big Smoke will be swift and no more painful than necessary in a car where the tape player is jammed on a road with long stretches without radio reception. I've been avoiding the city for many weeks now but I think I'm ready to cope with concrete and crowds for a day. As always, I'm looking forward to a leisurely browse in my favourite public library- my personal equivalent of retail therapy- dosing up on quality contemporary sci-fi.