The Jamjar

Fours

There are a bunch of cool-kids playing tag out there. I know none of them will ever tag me (though I'm really looking forward to seeing Doug Bowman atWebstock in May) and I have the patience of a small child on red cordial, so I'm gonna start my own Four and tag a few of you. (I stole the idea fair and square ok? i'm gonna call it "blog skipping" OKAY?? ok.)

Four jobs I've had
Fruit n' Veggie Roadside Stall Girl
Piping Design Draughtsman
Architectural Tracer
Cut n' Pasting Monkey (ook ook)

Four movies I can watch over and over
The Princess Bride ("Inconceivable!")
Blade Runner ("All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die.")
Back to the Future ("You're late, do you have no concept of time?")
Dodgeball ("There are 5 D's in Dodgeball: dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge.")

Four places I've lived
Rotorua (Delphi Place)
New Plymouth (Brooklands Road)
Te Kuiti (god knows, it was so foggy!)
Auckland (Pandora Place / The Rosebowl)

Four TV shows I love
West Wing
Top Gear
Later with Jools Holland
Grand Prix coverage

Four places I've vacationed
Rarotonga (7 days)
Akaroa (5 days)
Fiji (10 days)
Rome (14 days)

Four of my favorite dishes
Gunnapenata
Roast Lamb and vegetables
Kiwi cuisine pizza
Sashimi

Four sites I visit daily
sitemeter.com (obssessed)
flickr.com (unrequited affection)
kinja.com (finger on the pulse)
gmail.com (home is where my heart is)

Four places I would rather be right now
Paragliding in Fiji
Russian Tea House, NYC / USA with Kiki
Logos Cafe's garden Ponsonby/ Auckland sipping smoothies with you
In our bed

Four bloggers I am tagging

eroicasworld
effing
slightly bewildered
papermilk

End of Thursday

Part of the Furniture

I walked in right after the initial eruption. He was crashing things around on the bench and the sink the way I used to do when I got angry that no one had tidied up while I'd been gone. He looked at me. I can't even remember ever seeing him mad before.

"Michelle," he said "perfect fucking timing. How're you?" I don't think he really wanted to hear the answer. I perched myself at the kitchen bar and watched him wash the living daylights out of the china in the sink. They were obviously trying to contain the emotion that'd sparked right before I'd arrived. I wondered if I should stay or go - not knowing which - I did nothing. The boy stomped in. Then out. Then in again and It flared up for another set-to.

"Well somebody had better go out and find the fucking dog" he seethed, "if someone other than me would think about that animal for once it would be a fucking miracle."

"The dog's gone?" I asked. I know their pup had a habit of bolting at every given opportunity.

"Yes" he seethed "all fucking day, since I left for work this morning. God only knows where he is by now." his attention turned to his eldest boy "You know that yard doesn't hold him; why did you leave him there?"

The boy barked back "The yard does hold him!"

"It bloody does not, he can jump that fence!"

"I made it so he couldn't jump the fence there's no way he got out of there!"

Voices were louder, things were getting crashier, they weren't going to worry that I was standing in the middle of their family argument - no holds were bared. Hammers _and_ tongs. Dishes being forced clean and shoes being shoved on. The boy was going to find the dog. He slammed the door on his way out.

Silence. Perched on the kitchen bar. Silence.

I noticed a cup in the pantry. "You have a Sarah's Garden cup?"

He looked around "Oh.. oh.. that thing? That's yours." He was rubbing the surface off the granite counter with a dishcloth.

It certainly looked like mine but I couldn't recall anytime I would have brought my cup around let alone left it here. I walked over and picked it up, examining it to see it was exactly the same as my cup. Maybe it was my cup, I wracked my brain. "I've never brought my cup over here have I? How can this be my cup?"

I was having a complete alzheimer's moment.

"You didn't" he said, opening the fridge "we bought it for you - it's your Christmas present." I was stunned "Which," he continued "you could have opened on Christmas morning if you'd bothered to show up!" They'd invited me over for Christmas breakfast but, between the fizzy booze and the russian fudge at Greg's place, I'd fallen into a hypoglycemic coma on the couch and never made it.

"You bought this for me?" I was so touched and surprised "Do you know now expensive these things are? I mean.. no one pays fifty bucks for a coffee mug."

"Apparently, we do." he said, taking the bottle of wine from the fridge door and putting it on the counter next to the two wine glasses "Mine's the big one, by the way and you're pouring."

I smoothed my hands over the mug, not so much for the fact I liked it as that they had bought it for me and I said as much to him. "I'm going to leave it here so I can use it when I come over." I put it back on the pantry shelf where I'd first seen it and saw to opening the wine. I poured heavily into his glass and said "You love me, you really love me! I really am part of the family!" he lifted his glass and said, "What a fucking fine family it is." and took a deep drink from his glass.

The boy had come back, slamming the front door with a irritatingly cheery dog in tow "You're a cock, Ron." he said to his father.

"Fucking charming, Rick." he said to his son. "Welcome to the family, Michelle."

Mishi's Big Day Out

A day where one woman finds out she's not the oldest person in Auckland to like music not covered by Classic Hits 97FM.

I love live music - hell I love live most-things. But I really like live music. Unfortunately, I don't see a lot of live music - mostly, I suppose because I think I'm too old for the venues plus: I'm slack.

But I got my shit-together for the Big Day Out and all my ducks in a line for a most excellent Friday-Off.

Auckland turned on a perfect day - blue skies, fluffy clouds, sunshine - it's what we do best of all our weather, I think. Entry into the grounds was easy, quick and event-free. We made our way down to the main stages. Most of the bands Brett and I wanted to see where on the main two stages. We missed most of Steriogram, but were in the crowd for Gerling - unfortunately. Maybe because it was 11am, or maybe because Aucklanders are just like that, or maybe Gerling just sucked that day - we moved to the empty stage next-door and waited for Pluto.

One thing that amazed me all day was how close to the stages you could get if you wanted to.

Pluto was good though Milan's microphone could've used tweaking as his voice was somewhat lost. But by God, he's a beautiful boy. Strings of girls threading their way hand-in-hand through the crowd proved to be a big fucking nuisance and the Pluto set was the first I noticed it. God young girls can be annoying.

The Living End really got the crowd going, woke everyone up [I don't really want to dismiss them, cos they always do such a great job but if you've ever seen them you know that already] and then Mudvayne started. Holy fucking Lord - I didn't know anything could _be_ that loud. I high-tailed it out of the main stadium though their music was still making it difficult to hear anything else until we'd moved way the hell up into the Green and Essential Stages.

On our way we found food, sat under a tree and ate it: people watching. Saw a couple of melted goths - obviously not Day Walkers. Lots of people - all sorts of people. We also passed one of the coolest things I saw - the Silent Disco - I think it would only have been better if they were on roller skates. It looked like an old bumper car rink, and inside people were dancing with wireless headphones on. How cool is that? I couldn't hear any music but they were grooving away and having a good time under the disco lights and balls.

Eventually we found the two entrances to the Green / Essentials stages (not that anything was hard to find: it was well organised) Getting into and out of that area was slow and bottlenecked though - but I decided to become Michelle the Intrepid and went through the garden - agapanthus are hardly little plants! The space there was relaxed and warm and people were sitting on the grass and it was really nice. Making my way to the stages, I saw the lead singer from Good Shirt was setting up with Breaks Co-Op so thought I would stop a while.

The Magic Numbers were playing on the Essential Stage next-door, meanwhile. I've seen them on C4 and they're cute enough but hadn't really stood out or anything. Well the did for me at the BDO. They were completely delightful. They were my Surprise Highlight of the Day. Beautiful, melodic, fun and so much HAIR!

Breaks Co-Op was good too once they got their sound sorted though, the deck never did get any juice so that was annoying. But here comes my second "girl gripe" of the day: Chicks Who Talk Through Stuff.

Why the HELL do women have to talk through stuff? movies, music, church. Just shut_up_! This girl talked honestly NON STOP through 80% of Breaks Co-Op - and it was all utter _crap_ and although I moved she seemed to move too (unless it was just another girl talking through stuff) - possibly due to the really drunk sweaty leaning-tower-of-GUY to our right who kept impersonating Cartman and pushing us to the left. But he wasn't as annoying as this chick who wouldn't shut the fuck up.

That's totally the lesson I learned in 2005: If i'm ever in a relationship ever again, one of my main goals is to not talk through stuff. So, prospective future partner - you can watch Sharapova, and TopGear and A Walk to Remember in peace!

Making my way back out of the Green / Essential Stages and back down to hear the tail-end of Elemeno P's Verona I got into the crowd for the Kings of Leon. Lots of fun there but I was waiting for Shihad.

Now, I'm old - and I know Shihad is really loud - so I did what any self respecting old lady does in such situations - I sat in the stands. I know I know but I don't really like "jump[ing] right now" as much as I used to. Of course they were fantastic - the Shihad Faithful rewarded in spades. Brett had been told by his little bopper friends at school that Shihad was disappointing live - he can now go back and assure his mates they are just dead wrong.

Franz Ferdinand were up next and they did their bit. I must admit I find their music same-ish - I mostly only really go for "Take Me Out" but then, who doesn't - everyone went off on that one. But they were fair live - skinny-legged little Scots they are.

Brett found me in the stands after moshing his way through the last few bands: he was soaked to the skin and having a blast - I had quite a good possie, actually, so I told him I was gonna stay there for the duration and he could leave his backpack with me. He did just that and went up to the Essentials Stage for the main reason he'd wanted to come to the Big Day Out: The Mars Volta. I stayed in the main stadium and watched Iggy and the Stooges "I know where I am and I'm fucking glad to be here" Iggy started. God he's frenetic - sooo skinny - and just plain mental, I reckon: the sea of people surged up and back and "jump you motherfuckers" and Iggy threw himself into the security pit and into the crowd and they just loved it. I don't know anything about Mr Pop other than Lust for Life and if he played it, I missed it - I needed to pee.

Third annoying thing about girls/but it's not really their fault: always a queue for the toilets. There are *never* enough toilets for women. We're not mucking around in there either. We are totally efficient and not talking and getting in and doing what we're sposed to be doing and getting out again. Trouble is, we have a bunch of extra steps compared to a guy's visit to the bathroom and that means a queue forms at every women's toilet at every event and / or venue and it sucks! I'd done my queuing earlier in the day - I'd played by the rules and it took a huge chunk of time - and considering how much water is getting sprayed / hosed around the BDO and how that plays tricks on a rapidly expanding bladder, it's really easy to understand the idea of "bursting" to go.

So I left Iggy for the trip to the bathroom and yes, the queue was long - really long. So I did what any red blooded kiwi woman with no shame does: I went to the Mens' Toilet.

I wasn't the only one, so there was a bit of a queue but it was far shorter than the official Ladies' Loo one. And bless: the looks on the guys' faces - they weren't sure to be worried or pleased there were women in their bathroom watching them pee - and yes, we did glance - but they all seemed too cool / chuffed to protest much. A few questioned our presence but most just had this quizical, bewildered smile on their faces as they left.

That done and dusted, I secured a pottle of hot chips (damn they were good) and made my way back to the grandstand seating, sitting next to a wee White Stripes fan and fed him - he looked a bit hungry so I shared. I'd met a few interesting new people sitting in the stands. They come and they go, and the really neat thing is lots talked while they were there. One sweet-looking dreadlocked young man from Wellington chatted for a while. The Big Day Out is his favourite day of the year and he travels up to Auckland especially for it. Though, he told me, Aucklanders are a bunch of jumped-up weirdos and he's probably right. He also had huge issues with the beer-buying process. That you could only buy one at a time was hopeless, he said, because the queues were so long. Probably a good thing it took monumental effort to get your hands on booze considering the heat.

Iggy finished up and the White Stripes stage looked ready - black and red with white palms. There was a bit of a performance thing going on down the other end of the field with two guys and some plasma arcs which was kinda cool.

Then the White Stripes came out and did their thing. And their thing was good. Really good - when they let us into their little clique which, they didn't always do.

I stayed put for a while, and Brett came back from The Mars Volta a very happy chappy. He said they'd blown him away - were his absolute highlight of the day. We talked about the different things we'd seen while most of the crowd squished out the exits and eventually thinned out enough for us to be bothered moving.

We both agreed we'd had a mighty fine day. I really wished I'd been able to take the SLR because I'd seen photo opportunities all day - but without the better lens (my camera phone isn't good for such things) I just ended up with blurry crap.

Oh look - someone said it better here and here on Stuff and a kindof a blog/thing.

New Old Friends

I met her through a mutual friend. His deep affection for her an instant pass into my life. Her bright personality full of fresh joyful emotions latched passionately onto my arms and legs and heart. Honest, bright, intensely fragile old soul - she has one of God's most perfect faces and a pair of his most talented hands. Loving and so very giving, a pleasure to behold in the moment - and the spaces inbetween.

Her eyes see beauty, and her hands capture it.

I met this bright light with my own eyes and like all, protected in layers of human being, I still recognised her. She opened her home to me as I opened mine to her. Bright sunshine and ballet shoes. Rhubarb crumble and sleepy rivers. Tomatoes and Thai noodles. She is a comfortable joy as I always felt she would be.

Happy Birthday Eroica. With much love, from me.

Overheard

Her: Yeh, that was a pretty good movie.
Him: Yeh, not too bad.
Her: I really thought he should've died though.
Him: Really? He lived for ages you know, went back to the States to race his bike lots of times after that.
Her: Nah, he totally should've died. Would've been a much better movie if he'd died. Besides that guy - the guy who played him...
Him: Anthony Hopkins?
Her: Yeh, he's so old it's probably his last movie anyway. He totally should have died. Would have made the movie much better.

Quarterly Review

Manager: so, why aren't you sleeping?
Michelle: I don't know.
Manager: Well, what are you thinking when you wake up?
Michelle: *thinks* I'm not telling you that.
Manager: Okay - when you wake up, where are your hands?

Logos Cafe and Garden

sleep much?

Up the dosage

Last week I thought I would pop into the supermarket and get snacks. I normally don't bother with snacks because if I have them in the house, I'll just eat them. Not that that's not the point, just that I don't tend to graze and creating a habit like that is just asking for trouble. So I don't normally have that kind of food in the house. But today, I wanted snacks - Grainwaves, in particular, and Coke. So I thought I would pop down to the supermarket and pick up those items and some cat food for the cat I was minding.

Parking my car, I was mildly surprised there were quite a number of cars in the carpark. I checked the clock and it was 6:50pm and I figured maybe there were a lot of people doing their grocery-shopping this evening. I hopped out of the car, locked it and made my way to the shopping centre. Passing the pet shop, I noticed it was open. Always needing to check the Pet Shop I glanced inside, surprised it's doors were still open. I figured they must be stocktaking or just locking up because it was well past 5pm normal shop closing.

After a moment in the doorway I asked "Are you still open?" The girl behind the counter looked up and said they were still open. I tentatively entered the shop, wanting to check the kitten section "It's weird that you're open, and the knitting shop next door is open too!" the girl looked puzzled "that's unusual isn't it? what's going on?" I asked. She still looked puzzled and I rabbited on "I mean, what's the time? it's late, right? thought it's a real treat for *me* because I like your kitten corner but kinda sucks for *you* to still be here this late." The girl leaned to the cash register and checked the clock on the display. "It's only seven o' clock" she said. "Yeh - but that's _late_ for you to be open, don't you normally shut at 5pm?" I was like a broken record.

Then it dawned on me, all the thoughts fell into place "It's late night shopping!" she nodded and suddenly it all made sense. Here's me thinking it was Tuesday and it was Friday. And yes, I did say the Tuesday/Friday thing out loud while laughing at myself AND smacking my hand on the counter. She didn't seem to find the whole thing quite so amusing.

Arg, I hate when my confusion leaks out all over unsuspecting shop assistants.

onRotation

can't take my mind off you.

(Blower's Daughter/Damien Rice)

Learning to Fly

"Sit by me" she said, moving along the step to make room. He stepped right over her legs and next to me "No" he said "I want to get her." I looked up his tall straight body as he looked all the way down to me sitting against the wall on the third step. His knees bent and he gracefully folded himself onto the step above mine. His arms casually draped on his knees, he drew back slightly as if he couldn't quite fit me into his vision. He looked at me. And looked at me. He seemed familiar. His eyes so dark I couldn't tell pupil from iris. I was beginning to shift on the step, feeling a little nervous under his gaze. "Hello" I said, thinking maybe he was waiting for me to start the conversation. He said nothing but continued just looking at me. I looked away, then back, then away. He was very still and very quiet as he looked and looked and looked at me. He was silent so long, I was beginning to think he would never speak.

"I see your daughter in you." he said.

"How do you know I have a daughter?" I asked.

"Because I can see her in you, girl!" he leaned forward a little and said quietly "and she's naughty, just like you." He continued to look at me as I picked up my glass and took a sip. I didn't know what to say, so didn't say anything. He said "She's hiding something from you."

I scoffed slightly "That's hardly news" I said.

He continued his relentless consideration of me and I realised I wasn't feeling uncomfortable anymore. I let him look. He said "You've got to let go." His hand flew up and flicked in the air as if dismissing an insect "You've got let go and leave." I smiled and said that was a good idea, and in a few years I would consider that but he cut me off "Now, you have to go now. You have to let go. Leave your children. Leave your husband. Only then will they know." he lurched forward suddenly, his hands flying over my head as if he was shooing insects from around me "Away, go away from her!" he said to whatever was over my head though I don't think it was anything anyone else could see.

"You have to let go. You have to leave." he continued "Only then, will they learn. Only then will they know. When you let go and leave, they will know the pain you have. They will know what you have been through, what you gave up. Only then will they know, only then will they understand, and they will come to you. They will find you and come to you. They will come to you with love. With love in their hearts for you and they will know and they will find you and they will bring their love for you."

I asked him if he meant I had to leave the country. He said yes. I had to let go of my ties here, and leave the country. He drew back a little and his brow furrowed slightly "Sydney." he said "Maybe a little higher - definately Australia."

"Your life will change" he continued "In two, maybe three weeks, you will be given an opportunity. It will be the start of change for you and in five years - you will be happy."

"I'll be happy in five years?" I half joked "Promise?"

"You're not happy now, but in five years, you will be happy." his tone sobered my humour.

"Will I know this opportunity when it presents itself?" I asked.

"Yes," he said "you will know."

His eyes were so dark, his smile so brilliant and I realised who he reminded me of. "You smile like my father." I said.

"That's because it's love. I am love. I look at you with love." and he smiled a beautiful smile that reached into his dark eyes "My Angel" he said, looking into me "My Angel with wings too small to fly. Don't be afraid. We will grow those wings." He wrapped his arms around me and held me close, his voice quiet in my ear "Someone's life is about to change."

Baby Elephant Walk

I am so sick of my neighbour. Apart from her practically accusing me of orgainising the burglary of her place the week I moved into my flat; and even apart from her phoning me the other day to tell me how annoying Mouse was when she was alive - I'm going to focus on her being a grumpy elephant in high-heels in the mornings.

Her front door is right by my bedroom window, and she insists on slamming her wrought iron security gate shut over and over whenever she leaves the house. She is the only person on the PLANET who can make the locking of said door just as rowdy as it's shutting.

Then she clip-clops across her cobbled walk in those heels to the huge triple-bolted fence/gate and wrangles that like it's the entrance to some castle. By the time she's starting her car, I'm wide awake and realised it's her fault AGAIN.

This is every_morning even CHRISTMAS morning.

Then I doze back off mumbling about at least it's 6:30am and I get to go back to sleep to wake up for when she comes back from _wherever_ repeating all those noises in reverse and adding one "slamming" of her main door to finish.

Christ.

SHUT UP!!

Rewind

I'm trying to write an entry.

I've been watching the cursor blink. I've added a title then deleted it four times. I have made a cup of coffee and smushed avocado on toast. I am now typing.

This is me blogging.

*stops to take a bite of avocado toast*

*and watch the cursor blink some more*

*and sip coffee*

Let's retrace my steps:

Monday 11:30am - I slept late. That's okay because I don't have to go to work, and because I was still awake at 3am this morning. My sleep has been fractured lately. I just can't get into this holiday mode. At least I got to see TopGear on the BBC last night.

Monday 2:00am - TopGear raced a small plane (Richard "hamster" Hammond and the Other Guy) and a Bugatti Veyron* (Jeremy Clarkson driving the fastest road car in the world) from Italy to London. Clarkson won, but only by the skin of his sneakers. I think working on that show would be so much fun - they sure do look like they have a ball.

Sunday 8:30pm - Television was really quite weak last night - I can't understand why Survivor and the Amazing Race are always opposite each other - they look annoyingly the same to me. Both Channel Two and Channel Three aired double episodes (well okay, the Amazing Race might not have been a double but it sure felt like one) We had Whale Rider on Channel One which was nice but I've seen it several times - thank goodness for Marcus Lush's Intrepid Journey to provide some semblance of entertainment early in the evening. Yet another amazing job - being flown around the world to have adventures and have them retold on Intrepid Journeys - easily one of the best and most well executed ideas TVNZ has even signed off on. They're all good too - from Ewen Gilmore heaving his guts out in Peru to Peta Mathias crying herself to sleep in Argentina - with the likes of Danielle Cormack, Tim Shadbolt and Kerry Woodham in between. (no.. not inbetween Peru and Argentina - go the other way)

Yesterday was long - did you notice that? That extra second they added at midnight really took it out of me. I was Zombie Central for most of the day. Admittedly, getting home around midday from the night before didn't help my sense of time.

So so pleased Trixie (I'm cat sitting for David) was still here when I got home - I had not been able to wrangle her indoors before leaving and was a bit worried she'd no know to stick around til I got home.

I had the extreme good fortune to be invited to spend New Year's Eve with Sarah, her friend Clare and their friends David and Simon.

Saturday 5:30pm - We arrived in the late afternoon to their gorgeous home in Ponsonby just as they were arriving back from a few days sailing around Waiheke. Their house was a welcome drop in temperature from the overly hot Auckland sunshine. The large trees down Franklin Road are so beautiful and block the heat with their fresh green leaves.

Sitting on their deck and drinking wine, with some of the best and funniest conversations I've had in a while. I can't remember what we talked about specifically, but there was no shortage of easy banter and relaxed laughter. Time seemed to move at a goodly pace until stomachs rumbled for food. Fish and potato / kumera chips were sought from the local chippery. Along with more wine and decisions about what to do with the rest of the evening.

Saturday 10:30pm - The boys went up the road to visit a friend, and we three girls decided to find fun up on Ponsonby Road. We weren't overly successful - we tried The Crib, The Chapel, The Chandelier - maybe we should've busted out of the "c"s. It was unusually quiet (felt like a Tuesday night) and full of pretty gay men in muscle shirts and unnaturally thin beautiful women in expensive clothing. In the end we hopped into a taxi and made for the Viaduct and found everybody in the world down there.

Saturday 11:45pm - It was fantastic at the Viaduct. Lots and lots of ordinary people being friendly and happy. There was room at Plum so we ordered (two vodka orange, one vodka rocks - chant for the evening) and mingled and it was great. The countdown to midnight was rather muted, and no one sang Ald Lang Syne but that was cool too - we're the colonies afterall - not New Scotland.

I think the Exponents were playing instead.

Sunday 1:30am - But who knows - I had a lot to drink and I was having a good time. Yes, I do sing loud and no, I didn't hear what you said.

Sunday 2:30am - We ended up back at David and Simon's and had a few more drinks and talked some more before I fell asleep on the couch around 4am (My plan had involved taking a taxi home but ended up staying instead) with the cat.

Sunday 10am - Sleeping in one's clothes is always a good look. My hair looked _fantastic_. Thank goodness I was too (hungover? still intoxicated?) to care. We drove up Ponsonby Road to find breakfast, ending up at Sitio (as opposed to Standio?) for a bungled breakfast with poor service and far too many toddlers. Gawd.. what is it with people who take their underfives out for breakfast? hello? WEETBIX in front of television is how every child in this country should start their day. Not wearing designer sunglasses, talking on a plastic cellphone while drinking their soy milk fluffy (no, really, she was 4 years old).

I'm not grumbling really - more power to Sitio for opening on New Year's Day. Shame they were crap.

Monday 1:44pm - So here I am, still in my pyjamas - Monday 2nd January with 2006 stretching out in front of me and an feeling I "should" be at work. When does that feeling go away? i have one more week of leave, with some nice visitors between now and when I go back to work.

Eroica came to stay Boxing Day (I had such a lovely time and will share that with you soon) and is coming back again this week. James and Lesa are coming over tomorrow and I have a beach-date with Todd sometime as well. I'm sure by the time next Sunday rolls around I won't be feeling like I "should" be at work anymore.

I think I'll post this now so I'll stop staring at the blinking cursor and go make more coffee. Hope yawl had a groovy New Year and more than anything, wish you safety and happiness for 2006.

*Each Bugatti Veyron cost 5 million pounds to build - and are sold for 800,000 pounds - they were built to prove a point at a calulated loss to the company.