Saturday, 2 March 2013



I was sitting on the end of the jetty a few weeks ago minding my own business and thinking of this and that, and these and those, with the fish line in the water.
A pakeha comes up to me and says “Any luck, Hori?”
“No,” I tell him, “not yet, anyway, but I hope to catch something before I go home.  Anyhow I don't care much because it is such a corker day and I am enjoying the sunshine.”

This pakeha coot says “Boy you can say that again”
So I say, “It's a corker day, pakeha. And I am enjoying the sunshine.”
He say, “Yes, I heard you the first time, so don't repeat yourself.”
But I say, “You told me to say that again.”
This joker he say, “Yes, but I did not mean for you to say it again.”

I then say, “Why the heck don't you say what you mean?”
I come to the idea that this pakeha is only about 17 bob in the pound, so I give him the brush off on the excuse that I must go home to the wahine and the mother-in-law.
“Py korry.” he say, “I've got one of those.”  So we shake hands and I promise to meet him some other time to hear him bellyache about his mother-in-law, as if I had not got enough troubles of my own.

When I get home the missus and the mother-in-law say to me like this:
“Hori you go down to the shop and get the nice big turkey for the weekend.”
I say “Py korry, this turkey is going to cost plenty of dough”
My mother-in-law then turns on the korero and her bottom jaw is working overtime.
She reminds me about last shooting season.  She opens up and reminds me that last year I would not buy the fowl or the sucking pig for the weekend 'cause I reckon I would shoot plenty of ducks and pheasants.
This mother-in-law of mind tells me that I could buy enough turkeys to feed the whole street for what it cost me to go shooting.
Of course I agree with her, but I do not tell her this 'cause she would get more bossy than ever.
This shooting business is not all it's cracked up to be.
It takes about a week or more to get ready.
First of all I buy the license, which sets me back two quid.
I next buy a few duck decoys, which makes a hole in another three smackers.
My mate he say that we better take a couple of bottles of rum 'cause it gets plenty cold in the
mai mai early in the morning.
Nobody can shoot ducks without cartridges, so I have to separate myself from another couple of hard earned for these.
By the time I get the tucker and the gas for the old 1936 V8 I have spent enough dough to live like a panelbeater.
Well anyhow we get into our possies about five o'clock in the morning and wait for daylight, but we don't see any ducks handy.
All the birds are about ten miles up in the air.
I reckon that those spacemen that the Kruschen salt joker sends up would have got the limit bag!
All we gained from the the whole business was good experience as the monkey said when he put his arm round the porcupine.
On our way home I see the native pigeon and I don't like to go home to the mother-in-law emptyhanded, so I bump this bird off.
Next thing I know a pakeha coot comes up to me and says he is a ranger. 
About a week later I'm finned 25 quid all for trying to please the wife's mother.
I am sitting on that jetty again fishing when that pakeha coot comes up to me again and says, “Well, Hori, I see you are not going shooting this season.  I suppose it costs the too much money.”
I say, “You can say that again, brother.”
He starts to say it again, so I get in early and say “Don't repeat yourself.”
We're having turkey for dinner on Sunday and it will be dirt cheap – only set me back about a fiver!

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