Anna Chinn's blog

The programme of this year's Dunedin Fringe Festival, which starts next Thursday, has been printed "in association with the Otago Daily Times". The company will have stumped up either money or ink for such a credit, but it has also, and probably unwittingly, stumped up some very talented artistes.

Yes indeed, how? How to kill a possum with your bare hands. And quickly, humanely. An opportunity to try it arose this week.

"Suggestion for blog topic (if you are ever short of an idea!)" began one correspondent. He quite often makes suggestions for blog topics (if I am ever short of an idea).

An unexpected sight appeared this week amid the pictures that stream electronically into the ODT from an international photo agency. It was a tree in a city in the west of India, and I had seen it once before.

Is getting dirty just for boys? The question arose briefly during subediting this week.

Along the edge of the road were reminders of what happens if you mess with a highway. Dead things. A young rabbit, a yellowhammer, an unidentifiable black tuft with what appeared to be a row of small sharp teeth.

The children of the neighbour of a friend of a friend wanted to come berry-picking in Arrowtown. I indicated as long as they were not going to annoy me with inherited social conservatism, as kids are prone to do, they could come along. They were 7 and 10.

An opportunity arose to solve all the world's problems. Three of us were in the car, on the Kilmog, headed back into Dunedin after a day planting trees at Moeraki.

Dunedin possesses a home guard of alternative therapists. Squadrons of naturopaths, battalions of reflexologists, platoons of aromatherapists. We are trained and ready for deployment as soon as required. I belong to the relaxation massage brigade.

In the Centre City Mall, I saw a fat sparrow. Actually, it was probably an obese sparrow, but you have to allow for feather-fluffing, which can be misleading.