yes, I am a brick


I stumbled across this brick in Havelock North a week or so ago. It was sitting atop a brochure stand (saying free please take one) outside a shop. I was on my way to get a spray tan in order to wear a dress with an inordinately plunging neckline, hoping with and against hope (which is correct, technically?… If you hope against hope surely it’s like walking under a ladder or sticking a pin in a voodoo doll which turns out to be perfectly modelled in your own image…?) not to look like a flaking zebra at the wedding.

(It turned out I looked more like a mildly bronzed beast at the watering hole/communal trough, which was good enough for me.)

This brick tickled my fancy. I didn’t take the brick with me or anything. I just took the photo. Nothing like a red-bricked piece of kiwi ingenuity in action.

The letterbox gorilla  – promised in an earlier post – has long captured our imaginations (or at least piqued or curiosities) on our frequent jaunts from one side of Hawkes Bay to the other. Why has he got a scythe? Come to think of it, I guess he is flanked by fields. That probably explains it. I hadn’t really considered it until now. Also, I hadn’t noticed how cross-eyed the letterbox gorilla is until now. I suppose you don’t notice that kind of thing from a passing car.


2 Responses to “yes, I am a brick”

  1. There was a blow-up gorilla in the Featherston Christmas parade – he was out of shot when they took the first family photos of Jesus obviously but maybe he knows your mailbox one?

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