COLIN HOGG

COLIN’S NOT ON BOARD WITH HIS FAMILY’S LATEST OBSESSION

Isn’t it funny how life goes on regardless? How what felt like the end of the world turned out to be the start of a new adjusted one where we’re all careful to have a good stock of toilet paper in the cupboard and perhaps a new hobby to keep us occupied should things turn quiet again.

One of the things the Covid lockdowns reminded some of us of was the joy of jigsaws and card and board games. Scrabble may well have saved some people’s sanity, though not mine. I got so restless being cooped up that I turned to bricklaying, a solitary yet rewarding outdoor enterprise.

I don’t like games and never have much. It seems to me that board games are well-named but misspelt. They do bore me, though that makes me the odd one out in my crowd. Many of my friends and family actually love table-based entertainment. Some of them clap their hands in glee at the sight of an unconquered 1000-piece jigsaw or a game that might go on all day.

It seems like madness to me and the game lovers must have noticed this because they don’t ask me to join in any more. It’s true, I do sometimes miss the intense games of Rat-a-Tat

Cat I used to have with my granddaughters, but I never stood a chance against them. The younger one cheated shamelessly and the older one played like a poker-faced pro.

I’d rather read a book or sit outside and talk to the cat. But I might also have to find a new hobby. There’s not a lot of scope for much more bricklaying because, really, there’s probably a limit to how many bricks you want to see in your backyard.

And, on the topic of hobbies, it seems there are parts of New Zealand that require them more than others. My son Jamie recently moved to Waiheke Island, where he’s found everyone very friendly and full of advice. One islander, spotting him as a newbie, quizzed him about where he’d come from.

And when Jamie admitted it was New York, the plainspoken local told him, “Welcome, big city man” and asked, “Do you have a hobby?”

“No” said Jamie.

“Then get one. You’ll need it.”

I’m not sure he’s got one yet or that he has the time. He seems to be keeping busy adjusting to country life, buying tools, organising firewood, checking the water tank, running for the ferry to town – the sort of things living in New York doesn’t necessarily prepare you for.

But I seem to have an adaptable bunch of kids. Three of them have even adapted to living in Australia and continue to show no signs of ever coming home to the civilised side of the Tasman – not even now that those of us still in New Zealand have thoughtfully all chosen to live in (and around) Auckland. Though I hear strong rumours they’re all planning to come home at Christmas, which would put us all in the same place for the first time in years.

Just what that place will be is a bit of a mystery right now, what with all the grandkids and everyone else. Something around the size of a small town hall would be perfect.

‘The younger one cheats shamelessly and the older one plays like a poker-faced pro’’