Katherine Hayton | 2014 November

November 2014

We’re watching an old series of the West Wing at the moment, and it’s strange all the people that keep turning up in it as people other than what you know them now to be.

Yip. Pretty sure that sentence made perfect sense.

I’m currently watching the weirdo out of the Saw franchise – the main serial Sophie’s Choice killer weirdo, not any of the other ones – wearing a military uniform. It’s not pleasant. And it’s hard to take him seriously.

I also think that the President’s men shouldn’t be hanging out with a slutty weed dealer, and Peggy Olsen just needs to grow up and stop hanging around with college kids.

There’s a nice twang of nostalgia seeing Ron Silver on the screen again – I miss him. I loved it when he was in Chicago Hope and kept bringing out the x-ray showing the instrument his ex-wife left inside a shortly-thereafter-dead patient.

I’m not actually sure what he’s doing here now, I’ve lost track of everybody. Now I’m just playing the game of pointing and saying “he/she was ***** out of ****!” I love IMDB in these situations. My memory isn’t up to the game much anymore.

And now Christian Slater has walked onscreen. In a slightly darker uniform. Is anyone in The West Wing named Heather?

Funniest of all is seeing the same virtuous morality that a bunch of newsmen currently own spilling out of decade old mouths as though it was fresh material. I may have that backwards, but that’s the way free TV rolls.

Onto my attempt to “break the internet” one blog at a time.

Another solo star hosting me tonight. Pop along to Jane Reads later tonight for a guest appearance by… (drum roll please) ME!

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19 Nov / Better than FREE

Today I’ve had my book approved for launch on Story Cartel. So I launched it.

For the next three weeks it’ll be available for free download in formats for Kindle, Kobo, Nook Book and whatever knock-off branch of e-reader you’ve managed to get your hands on. Or their tablet app equivalents.

Free download. What could be better than that?

Well, the better bit is that once you’ve read my lovely though harrowing book Found, Near Water, you get to toss your opinion of it about willy-nilly. In fact if you pop a review on Amazon, B&N, Kobo, iBooks or another digital bookstore that takes your fancy you will earn entry into a draw for a whole lot of excellent monthly prizes which I can’t be bothered to list here but you can find on the Story Cartel website.

Interested? Check out the FAQs here then sign up and download your free copy of my book here

Or, you could help out a starving artist and purchase a copy. Up to you. Even if you do pay for it you can still feel free to toss around your opinion of it – people will probably pay it even more attention.

And onto my tour of the wild, wild, inter-web.

There’s only one stop on the tour tonight, so all the attention goes to Megan’s Blog. Yahhhhhh Megan! Drop by later to say hi, or ask any of your burning questions and I’ll try my best to deflect them with humour.

It’s just my way.

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18 Nov / Password Changes

This morning I changed my password at work.  My computer is now secure – even from me. Every time I sit down to get to some real work I instead elicit a series of  beeps informing me that I am locked out.

It also informs me that I have no memory, and I’m resistant to change.

My computer is a bit lippy.

And before you suggest it, yes I do only change the last digit in my password each time. If I changed the whole thing I’d have to keep the helpdesk on speed dial.

Even worse is when I sit in front of my computer at home trying to access a user only website, with a repeated error message thwarting my efforts. And I go through the whole rigamarole of resetting my password – waiting for a good twenty minutes for a reset code that never arrives – until I finally twig that I’m using the wrong email address.

But the worst of all is when I receive a message from microsoft, or paypal, or my bank, kindly informing me that even though I can’t remember my password, someone in China can.

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17 Nov / Power Breathing

As I was struggling up a steep hill (okay, okay, a gently sloping incline) the other day I lamented the days where I didn’t struggle for each breath.

It reminded me vividly of the time where my doctor and I thought I may have asthma, but turned out that my lungs just objected to clean air after years of breathing in increasingly expensive smoke.

This further reminded me of a torture device that I’d briefly used until I was able to suck in a full lungful of air (and stopped panicking that I would die full-time – back to part-time baby.)

It’s called a power-breathe. There’s a mouthpiece that encourages salvation just looking at it, and some plastic and screws and coils.

The handle screws around to different levels, each providing a new level of resistance. You place your mouth at one end, and attempt to breath in thirty breaths in one session.

It’s harder than it sounds.

Here’s a picture.

That was so I could say it’s also harder than it looks.

In theory by using it twice a day you build up the muscles around your lungs so they have an easier time getting air into you. In practice too.

I promise to have a session with the machine religiously morning and night until my ability to breathe while walking improves.

And by religiously I mean I’m an atheist.

My first two stops on the blog tour are out of the gate (or will be shortly.) Our Wolves Den is first out of the block, also kindly providing a review, and Isabel Roman is following a close second. Please take the time to drop by, and if you comment you’ll be in to win a $50 Gift Card for Amazon or Barnes & Noble.

Links to these blogs can also be found on the right-hand side of my blog posts.

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Hooray. My virtual book tour starts tomorrow. Or the day after depending on where you live. Or three weeks in the past depending on when you read this.

Or just the 17th November for ease of having a common point of reference.

For those unfamiliar with the term a Virtual Book Tour means instead of going from town to town and sitting in bookstores, I’ll be going from blog to blog and checking in at virtual towns around the world. Much more fun because I can do it all from the comfort of my sofa.

The only drawback is that most blog owners are on the wrong other side of the world, so I’ll be dropping by in their early morning to say hello, then being out of contact for nine hours while I have a nice sleep.

So if (or when) you see the following banner in the middle of my blog in the coming weeks…

It means there’ll be a link to a blog post or two which you can follow to find out what horrors joys another blogger has put me through that day.

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My, how the year has flown. Once again it’s time for the New Zealand Attitudes and Lifestyle Survey. I’ve been doing this for six years, according to the website, but it always seems such a short time between the surveys that either I’m getting old and time is flying or they’re sending it out more frequently than I imagine they are.

Just checked their website again. I’m getting old.

I do now think that I should’ve taken a note of all the questions and answers over the years, and then I’d be able to see where my answers have changed. Certainly I earn more money, have a better job, have developed a hobby into a completely non-lucrative business, have a wonderful and steady relationship, and take a lot more pills. That must have been an improvement?

They should certainly be less mopey. I had angst for a lot longer than the usual teenager.

But to do that would require effort and commitment to data-gathering, and although I’m happy to type it out on a blog for ten minutes, I’m not about to put the same effort into recording my answers twice. And I think a lot of the questions change.

They used to have quite a weirdly offensive one about how I felt about obesity-related diseases eg heart disease. Really? Heart disease. Because prior to the “obesity epidemic” heart disease was unknown in the Western World. Just like cancer. No one ever used to die of cancer. Or bollocks. Prior to the obesity epidemic there wasn’t nearly the same amount of people dying of bollocks in the world.

It also amusingly lists fat people as an ethnicity. I’m not kidding. It asks you how much you feel anger or don’t feel anger towards certain ethnicities and then lists NZ Europeans (always first – no they don’t reveal their own prejudices), Maori, Pacific Islanders, Arabs, Asians and Fat People.


Maybe I should try listing that one on my next passport application form and see if it makes it through.

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Such exciting news this morning. A tiger loose in Paris. PETA said that this should show to the public the dangers of keeping wild animals in captivity, but they seemed to have missed the main point of the headline.

The very idea of a tiger taking a lazy stroll around Paris – napping in the branches of a strong tree in the midday sun, chasing small puppies who’ll grow up to have a very complicated relationship with cats in the neighbourhood – fills me with warm joy.

And there was even photographic evidence. Such a rare thing in these cases, but whomever first thought of including a camera in a mobile phone must have a warm place in every newsman’s heart.

I’ve seen that photo. It looks like a cat. Quite like the tabby that was lolling on the front lawn this afternoon and which I had to shoo away before my darling fetched a gun.

I’d quite like to know why that woman and her fuzzy photo was believed when the twenty years of eyewitness reports about the Canterbury Cat are mocked.

This is her picture…

And these are the pictures that local Cantabrians have captured over the years…

Don’t you think they look exactly the same? Yes?

Ha. That was a trick. Of course they look nothing alike. The Canterbury Cat is a panther, not a tiger.

So the woman in Paris gets showered with glory, and the poor men of the Canterbury Plains are afraid to come forward with their stories because they’ll be pelted with ridicule.

The truth is out there.

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This morning we drove past a service station with a sign out front announcing:


The entire sign should have been put up backwards, and then it would have been completely in reverse. I do understand the need to provide clarity when an abbreviation is used, but using an abbreviation as clarification for the full description?


And that’s it. I started this list off this morning with great hope and excitement, but either I haven’t been paying attention or everything else in Christchurch is going just as it should.

Oh well, plenty of time over the coming long weekend to spot more nonsense that takes my fancy. Or I could put the time to better use and go looking for the 99 giraffes that have been let loose on Christchurch. This is my favourite one:

Not that I’ve found it out in the wild yet. I’ve only driven past a gold one at the Casino, and a serious looking giraffe with a tool belt who looked like he was definitely in on the rebuild effort.

Stand Tall Christchurch.

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Katherine Hayton,
You have a new follower on Twitter.

Follow back
08:02 PM – 11 Nov 14

Hello…thanks for following back. ….am dave Collins, may I know your name?
09:04 PM – 11 Nov 14

Course you can Dave… but that was an hour ago so in the meantime I’ve gone to bed. I won’t be able to read your message until tomorrow.

Hi..thanks for following back, am dave. May I know your name??
09:34 PM – 11 Nov 14

Now I’m asleep Dave, so you’re out of luck. But I’m sure I’ll get to your message tomorrow.

Hi ??
02:32 AM – 12 Nov 14

Still asleep Dave. Give me a few more hours, eh?

Hi Dave Collins, you may know my name. It is Katherine Hayton 🙂
06:11 AM – 12 Nov 14

Nice name, I like That
06:13 AM – 12 Nov 14

Seriously Dave. Are you sitting in front of your computer waiting for people to reply to you on Twitter? Are you sitting in front of your computer waiting for me to reply to you on Twitter? You’re starting to creep me out Dave.

Would like to know more about you, if you don’t mind
06:14 AM – 12 Nov 14

I’m sorry; I can’t do that Dave.

06:18 AM – 12 Nov 14

Block or Report?

Goodbye Dave.

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