Signs

Considering Christchurch, and that Wellington had a 4.5 shake today as well as a capsizing ferry, I really shouldn't be finding it so infuriating that Vodafone has cocked up our broadband and consequently/additionally I can't get to my blog in the usual manner. But I am; and all around the country other people will have been starting to curse again at dozy drivers, misplaced apostrophes, Muammar Gaddafi and Charlie Sheen. Life looks to be going on. It's beginning to feel like time all those journalists came back to the studio; they've already moved on to the warm fuzzy stories introducing victims to their rescuers, talking to the SPCA, interviewing Jeremy, the hot young signer for the deaf who's been set up with a Facebook page by his admirers. Good grief, even Mayor Bob Parker's parka has its own Facebook page now.

Death toll now 160, expected to reach 240, a quarter of the CBD to be demolished, thousands of homes ditto, ChCh people scattered all over the country, hot dry nor'wester blowing choking liquefaction dust all over the city - and someone's put the huge boulder that crashed through their roof, coming to rest in their hallway, up for auction on TradeMe. It's a good sign.

Update: The boulder, Rocky, sold for $10,050 (all proceeds to the Earthquake Fund) as is, where is - really, a photo op plus a Norfolk Island holiday someone threw in. All good fun.