Arrowtown book buyer Miranda Spary continues her regular column about her recommendations for a good read and life as she sees it . . .
It's our big day tomorrow - election day and time for us all to do our duty and decide which politicians are going to be the omniscient, omnipotent super beings we need to manage us for the next three years.
It's not possible in my family not to vote - I am 51 but my father still feels the need to ring and remind me there's an election in the offing and offer his handy hints on which boxes to tick. What would I do without his help?
My darling and I have been in Melbourne all week and whatever anyone says about Australia being the lucky country, it's simply not true.
They've got huge problems.
They don't love their immigrants the way they say they do - there's some hideous racism going on - and the unions are doing their level best to wreck Australia's image as a caring, carefree country.
Australians don't even want to fly Qantas any more.
The wages are much higher than in New Zealand but the cost of living is astronomical.
And if you want to lose weight, convert the cost of a restaurant meal into our feeble weedy currency and you'll suddenly lose your appetite.
In spite of the prices, it is virtually impossible to get into any of central Melbourne's good restaurants.
A table for six?
Sorry, not this week. Sorry, we don't take bookings. Try turning up at 5.30 if you want a meal before 9pm.
My darling and our friends enjoyed (I just can't think how) watching Tiger Woods and his friends playing golf for four whole days.
We think we do interesting weather in the Wakatipu, but there the golf-goers got howling, scorching, pouring and finally perfect weather - they needed different outfits every day.
They all agreed that they have been far too spoilt from watching golf at The Hills with its perfect natural grandstands, easy access and delicious food.
Apparently, they didn't just choke at the cost of the egg sandwiches (the only option left) at Royal Melbourne, but literally choked as well on the dry and dusty tasteless lumps.
While I may have thought it sad to go to beautiful Melbourne only to sit in a grandstand watching tiny insect-sized figures playing golf for four days, the others thought my decision to have two hours of Turkish lessons each day a bit peculiar, too.
I found Turkish Manolia on the internet, and if you are a language nut, you will know what an absolute treat it is to find a great teacher who teaches you the secret to making a foreign language work. It's a bit like learning a new rule for Sudoku or a secret strategy for cryptic crosswords.
What really impressed me was the CAE (continuing adult education) facility. Every day I would gaze in awe and envy at the long long list of courses displayed on the screens - shoemaking, Italian for business travellers, digital bookmaking, Scandinavian Christmas baking, basic contract law, fun maths for dummies - pretty much anything you could think of.
I couldn't help thinking that we could do more to lure visitors to Queenstown with a decent chunk of learning mixed in with the sightseeing and partying and outdoor activities - all our fabulous English language schools are already doing a great job of that but there are lots of English speakers who might like to visit us and go on a course they never have time for at home.
Lifelong learning is the key to human happiness, but some learning makes you unhappier.
I just read Fariba Nawa's Opium Nation, and learning about the Afghan drug trade and its consequences for the Afghan women is excruciating.
Like most people, I know a bit about what is going on, but these close up stories are very uncomfortable and unputdownable. Definitely not for the squeamish.
