Dyslexic Wonderland!

Down under in New Zealand in the lower hemisphere, the stars sparkle with a gesturing ass over tea kettle come hither. After having spent 9 years in Alaska, the land of darkness and minimum pollution, I have become accustomed to looking up at the clear stars. Looking up at the stars here is like looking down from on top of them. They are upside down. For instance, the North American big dipper that normally looks like a big dipping spoon looks like a hat, the kind of hat that Davey Crochet would wear, furry with a long beavers tail. The little dipper looks like Davey Crochet's raccoon hat smaller twin sister. The stars are so bright in NZ that they spread their internal glow the same proximity as a freshly squashed road killed carcass.

The brightest planets are the deeply colored stars which can mostly be found in the left hand part of the sky in North America. In the lower hemisphere they are located in the right hand part of the sky. When the new moon looks like a tiny slice of cheese, the section showing is to the left not to the right as in the northern hemisphere. I met a very jovial man last week who was visiting New Zealand from Alaska. He was convinced after drinking too much New Zealand wine and perhaps smoking who knows what that while looking up at the sky he was looking at a different galaxy. It is the same galaxy down under but completely flipped ass over tea kettle, tangled up into a dyslexic wonderland.

When flushing the toilet due to the gravitational pull the water circles downward to the left counter clockwise and not the right. Sometimes I flush the toilet 5 times like a toddler just to watch it swirl again and again or until someone else enters the public washroom and reminds me that New Zealand is a country that believes in the conservation of water. Flushing the toilet never seems to get old and it is always nice to procrastinate getting back to cycling.

Today after dismounting the magic bicycle after a 103 km (67 mile) beautiful bicycle ride I walked through Geraldine, the village in the foothills of the Southern Alps mountain range, the range that runs down the center of the South Island of New Zealand. Crossing the colloquial street on foot is an activity that requires a helmet. Looking left then right and not right then left is something I have been taking for granted for far too long. That or perhaps I have developed dyslexia and it is flaring up all of a sudden.

The car steering wheels are on the right hand side of the car, the motorists drive on the left hand side of the road and exit the vehicle to the left as well. It makes it interesting when cycling by parked cars and often there is a near ass over kettle incident of me and the magic bicycle getting nailed by a opening car door. Prior to garnishing my helmet to cross the street on foot, the closest near miss while cycling was today. I quickly swerved the magic bicycle around a parked car and avoided the projectile of a car door and started laughing. The woman was so startled she hopped back into the driver seat of her car. I apologized and waived but she still looked a little frazzled. I was laughing because no one got hurt and because perhaps we should all be wearing helmets at all times on a day like today.