Issue 31

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..Airport” as we started our descent in Whenupai, Auckland’s main airport until 1965. This inspired great confidence in the passengers, already frightened by the low altitude, turbulence, cloud and the single toilet. It was an age of muted optimism. Our father was a stock and station agent and would drive up from Eketahuna, redolent of…

S P E C T R U M S P E C T R U M S P E C T R U M M I K E R U D D B I L L P U T T . C O MM M I K E R U D D B I L…

Rosemary Jackson had parents like chestnuts roasting by the fire. Rich accents popped out from small round bodies that had emigrated from somewhere in Middle England. Their daughter was their single joy. Rosemary was of grave demeanor with skin that merited the accolade of peaches and cream, and she had dark lustrous long hair with…

Mike’s Pith & Wind cont. .. rammed down our throats then and so retained a healthy sense of inquisitiveness and, well, a healthy naivety. I feel sorry for kids missing out on a chunk of their childhood because they’re confronted with adults’ version of reality too soon. No wonder youth suicide is an issue… but…

Anyway, this particular setback to my innocence happened on a rainy day at the family farm (Mendip Hills) in North Canterbury, two or three hours north of the now blighted city of Christchurch. Mendip Hills was the jewel in the crown of the Rutherford family, our forebears on our mother’s side. Our grandfather, Norman Rutherford,…