So like Martha, I’m discovering that blogging half cut leads to prolific output. Which is good. Something to do with lowered inhibitions leading to the typing of any old crap.

The big news here is that Bella turns five tomorrow. Oh yes.

There’s a party at the playcentre. There’s school on Tuesday. There’s Bella’s wish, that “I want all my Nanas to come”.

And so this morning we picked up my Mum from the airport. The gobsmacked expression on Bella’s face was a joy. What she doesn’t yet know is that her grandmother from Masterton, and her great-grandmother from Napier will also be appearing tomorrow.

Right now I’m keeping a weather eye on the TV3 rugby while Bella’s mother is sewing and my Mum is icing Bella’s birthday cake. But actually I’m absorbed, in a fascination with train wrecks kind of way, with Google’s new Katrina view of N’awlins.

I keep stopping myself from thinking thoughts like “why the hell did they build their city in such a fracking dumb place”, as the same question could, and should, be asked of me.

Because Wellington is equally a damned deathtrap. And we aren’t ready.

Just like the people of New Orleans.