Google Earth Well, so soon after praising Google for getting better resolution onto their Maps service for NZ, they've only gone and released the most amazing application I've seen in ages: Google Earth.

Fly around the Earth, zoom in, out, rotate and tilt at will. And just wait til you see the 3D buildings loom up out of the New York skyline. Awesome.

Be warned though: needs a decent broadband connection, and a reasonably good video card.
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google maps hits new zealandFinally, Google Maps is starting to get a bit of detail for the New Zealand bit of the world map.

When it first launched, we didn't even make it onto the map, the Pacific Ocean just sprawled out endlessly to the West of the USA. Then we got added, but the zoom gave out well before you could start making out anything smaller that massive geologic objects on the ground.

But now, although the resolution for the highest zoom level still isn't as good as the US version, you can make out some of the bigger buildings and landmarks.

So, in the time-honoured tradition of bloggers everywhere, here's my personal google maps tour...

Where I live: Island Bay, Wellington (with the map centred on the 'Island': Tapu te Ranga)

Notable Landmarks nearby: The Airport and Miramar Peninsula (the latter being where Peter Jackson's film empire is based). The Stadium.

Slightly further afield: Mt Taranaki (so round!). Farewell Spit (so long!). Sumner (my childhood home).

Hopefully the street-maps bit of the maps service will kick in soon. Poor old Wises - who have an excellent service, by the way - must be quaking in their boots. Unless they're onselling their streetmaps info, of course, in which case they'll be laughing...
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Carbon Neutral BloggingDiamond Geezer comes up with a scheme that will allow him (and, following his example, you and me), to make blogging a carbon-neutral activity.
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Being Kiwis, the staff had all been watching the game...Poor old Lawrence Dallaglio (the man for whom the word 'imperious' was defined) has had his Lions tour ended by an innocuous looking slip on some dewy grass in Rotorua only twenty minutes into the first game (final: Lions 34, BoP 20).

"I went straight to hospital in my kit in Rotorua and, being Kiwis, the staff had all been watching the game and saw the replays of the injury numerous times and knew what would be arriving."They were waiting to help and were fantastic. The ankle joint had to be realigned slightly, under sedation, to ensure it mended in the best way."

Hooray for the NZ Health Service! All standing around watching the footy on a Saturday night!

Dislocated ankle, broken fibia. Ouch. And he knew it straight away - his hands shot to his head in despair. He knew that that was it. It took ten minutes to get his enormous frame onto a stretcher, an ignimony that has never befallen him before...

I was lying there thinking: I have never been taken off on a stretcher before in my career. Even when I did my knee in 2001, I still played on.

My three children thought it was very funny that daddy had to be taken off on a golf cart.

His wife, perhaps, wasn't quite so amused. Clive Woodward definitely wasn't amused, and the onfield Lions, naturally, freaked out and blew a 17 point lead as they realised that all the talk of provincial teams attempting to 'soften up' them up before the Tests, is, in fact completely true. As Clive said himself: "...he will be sorely missed but that's also why we have 45 players on this tour, because of these things."

It's a pity it had to be Lawrence though. He has great drama factor. For a guy who looks so steadfast, upstanding, and the most likely to lead the spitfire squadron on a suicide mission into the heart of Germany, it's hard to believe he's such a cheat. He got pinged for one penalty about five minutes before his injury and looked up at the ref with a look of total disbelief in his eyes as to make me think that, perhaps, he had been wronged. As he jogged back into position, he markedly shook his head, and scowled at the injustice of it all. But then, in the slo-mo replay, he was blatantly in the wrong. Brilliant stuff. He will be missed.
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New ShoesI arrive home, flushed with success from having done a solo shopping effort to replace my battered old brogues. I am very pleased with myself.

"Love, check out the new shoes!"

She looks.

"Guess how much!"
"Twenty bucks?"

My elation vanishes. My brilliant ruse has been rumbled. The new shoes I got from the Shoe Warehouse that were indeed $20 and which, to my eyes, were the spitting image of the $120 shoes they were replacing, are nothing but cheap imposters to the eyes of the more discerning shoe connoisseur.

That's the last time I shop by myself, then.
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