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Polly Gillespie, Wellington (2025)

31/07/2025

I’m am not a beauty influencer. (Obviously! 😆) I’m just a rampant sharer! (Not shearer. Though wish I was.) This is my latest hack. Not sponsored and not a colab. Though If Revlon want to pay me a billion dollars I’m in! 😉

27/07/2025

What if one small moment in time changed our life completely..

I was watching the classic movie ‘Sliding Doors’. Where an alternative life is imagined for Gwyneth Paltrow when one simple decision, toss of a coin, or in this case, child on an underground station stairwell alters her whole future.

In the words of Frank Sinatra. “Regrets I’ve had a few, but then again too few to mention.”

Maybe I have quite a few. Sure I’m here because I’m meant to be, and I’m safe and OK, but also I feel I’m in a place in my journey where I realise I have done some really stupid things. Not by chance, but by choice. Is life a series of ‘what ifs?’ A highway of tiny forks in the road we don’t recognise as forks? Sure we see those giant towering forks with the flashing neon sign blazing, ‘THIS IS A FORK!’ But the wee ones. Do we trip over the wee ones?

I don’t ponder this often, but lately a little too often. If I hadn’t sent that text. If I hadn’t locked eyes with that guy. If I hadn’t drunk too much and ended up falling off that stage. If I’d said yes to that job. If I’d said no to that prom date. Where would I be? How would my life look now?

But I did, and I didn’t, and I did, and I didn’t. I didn’t and I did.

People recite, “Woulda, coulda,shoulda!” (Possibly in a different order.) “No Regerts .” (No I didn’t misspell.) and “It is what it is!” (Dumbest expression ever. Designed to end a conversation.) But perhaps we learn a little by looking back briefly and acknowledging the misguided choices and bent forks. Not dwelling on poor choices, but recognising them enough to remind ourselves to, in the future pause, and make slightly better choices. Some lessons have taken me years to learn. Some lessons I am yet to learn. I worry that now I’ve watched Sliding Doors again after 20 years, that the slightly random brain of mine may will me to turn left every time I want to turn right. Drive a different way to town. Say yes to everything I’m inclined to say no to, and no to everything that tempts me to say yes. BUT I think I have arrived in a place where I need lessons to be learnt and patterns to be altered, if not completely changed. A wee bit of reflection is ok. It’s ok if it doesn’t end up in hours of rumination. I won’t look for forks, but I won’t ignore them. I’ll pause before I leap, or should I leap before I pause? Maybe a little of both.

Here’s a fact. We learn lessons making good choices, but often even bigger and better lessons making poor ones. This is why the ‘hell of defeat’ is often more profound than the ‘joy of success.’ Which was entirely evolutionary. Built in so we WOULD learn lessons.

Sliding Doors. Tiny Forks. It’s not always ‘is because it is.’ (Such a dumb expression.)

Right…Enough Reflection. I’ll now have a cup of tea instead of coffee and paint my front door red. (Instead of the black I’d planned)

Don’t beat yourself up if you sometimes fall in to the ‘what ifs.’ Maybe there’s a wee lesson. Acknowledge it.Smile, and march on. Or skip, just for the fun of it…
And remember what Monty Python said:

“Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!”

(That’s just a Sliding Doors reference. As you were.)

25/07/2025

If you’re out and about today, please spare a few coins for Womens Refuge. Arohanui to the men doing the mahi too. Warms my heart to see good men leading by example. 💛💜💛

24/07/2025

Oh no. I feel I just went on a few dates with a man who thinks the earth is flat, and whose ‘friend’ believes in an alien invasion. It would make sense if it was via a dating app… but no. I met him at a concert!Honestly he seemed normal. Oke fe fe!

My next book? No one will believe it. “Men Ive met. 50 Shades of Wrong.”

To be fair though, I feel I may draw in the crazy and confused. Simply for the chance to impart embarrassing stories for your amusement.

Life is a series of funny, sad, and nonsensical happenings. I tell you everything. You are welcome.

What was the weirdest date you ever went on?

Might I add…I have been on a lot that may well be weirder! The fire dancer with an ice cream allergy. A movie star who smoked pot. A chess master who got us thrown out of an ice cream parlour… but please share!!!

21/07/2025

I have no problem with wealth..

I heard a quote recently that it’s better to be miserable in a Porsche and than a beat up Honda Civic. I’m not sure I entirely agree. I’ve been happier, at times, in an old Vitz and Han in a shiny new Mercedes SLK, but I understand the sentiment.

I’ve just popped up. You see I went down a rabblt hole. A golden, velvet lined, bejewelled boujee rabbit hole. After a great weekend that included watching the All Blacks with the whanau at Grant and Lisa’s house. (I am so lucky to have a warm relationship with my ex husband and his wonderful wife.) Yesterday my son took me to see the new Superman movie. I loved it, despite sitting next to a guy who must have been high. He laughed hysterically through the entire movie. To be clear, not my son. The lad on the other side. At one stage I desperately wanted to throw peanut M&M’s at him, or shove an entire box of popcorn down his gob, but I remained restrained. This past weekend I also met a man for coffee. A man who proudly told me he was on the NBR rich list. In the words of Shania Twain,

‘That don’t impress-a-me much.’

After enduring a monologue about his incredible success, I escaped and fled to another important ‘imaginary’ appointment. Back when I was young, I’d make my escape out of a pub bathroom window. I’m not quite as athletic these days. This morning I decided to do a light google stalk of the supposed rich lister. This is how this ‘Alice’ found herself tumbling down the diamond studded rabbit hole. I didn’t find the said ‘rich guy’, but I did discover all kinds of interesting facts. One being that the 2025 Rich List profiled 119 Kiwi individuals and families with a total valuation of $102.1b, up from $95.55b last year. (Courtesy of an article on The NZ Herald website) That’s a lot of money! (Understatement of the century.) So up about 6 and a half billion from last year huh? I get excited at the thought of winning $6mil on Lotto, but then again I don’t buy a ticket because I need the $18 for dog food. (True story.)

I am not a member of the tall poppy brigade. If people earn fortunes ethically then good on them. I haven’t an ounce of business sense, but I do admire it in others. I suppose what makes me feel a bit uncomfortable, and perhaps more than a smidge sad, is that most of our forebears of every race sailed and paddled our way here to find a society that lacked a feudal cast system. Fleeing the rules of nobility that imprisoned them, or the impossible task of rising above their station. Refugees of whatever stifled them. Now we seem to be back in a place where it’s happening all over again.

It’s important I clarify that I respect and acknowledge that for Maori this has been blatantly apparent since colonialism. It’s a wicked,unjust, and terrible history in and of itself.

Now in 2025 here we all are. No longer the imagined egalitarian society.

It has not ever been fair or just for the people who first arrived in Aotearoa. For the rest of us, the children of immigrants, it’s just so far now from the dream of a classless new world.

I celebrate other people success. I don’t resent anyone their fortune, but it’s becoming harder to watch as folk stumble, jobs are lost, businesses close, prices alarm, primary health care is being bought out by overseas interests, mortgages are crippling, thousands of citizen are crossing the ditch, and dozens and dozens, sometimes hundreds of unemployed people apply for every single job advertised.

I managed to scramble back up the rabbit hole, using rubies and gold bars as footholds. Back to my pile of bills and sink load of dishes. I’m OK. I’m safe, but now imagining what I’d do with a billion dollars. A billion dollars! I’d probably roll about in it for a bit.

I’m left wondering how big a room I’d need to stuff it with $50 notes and roll about. Perhaps I will Google that. I bet I’m not the first to ask!

18/07/2025

I’m just saying…..

11/07/2025

I googled ( Who were we before Google) I googled ‘What countries have the fairest paid nurses’ I then looked at several sources, and surprise! We don’t make the top 30. Our Minister of Health says he’s disappointed our nurses want to strike over unsafe staffing levels. Shame. Shame on you. Why when nurses are literally holding this country together, are they expected to work like slaves? It’s not on. I don’t know, because I’m not a nurse, and I’d be a lousy one, but if somehow this is an example of ancient rhetoric. A belief that care givers should be grateful for doing ‘the lords work’. It feels to me that there is some archaic mentality that dates back to WW1 and WW2. That somehow nursing is not a profession, but a calling. It’s not right. Nursing is a gruelling job. Now in 2025 it’s even more intense and demanding. So you Mr. Health minister are disappointed in our nurses? Say again? How about you do a 12 hour shift with not enough staff, illness, grief, and danger in your face. PLUS the opportunity to be treated more fairly in almost every other country in the western world. Or perhaps just drive off to your holiday home. Off you go in your ministerial car, to your ministerial lodgings.

Go you nurses! It’s not 1915. It’s not 1943. It’s an undervalued and underpaid profession that deserves respect, remuneration, and safe staffing levels. I hear you!

( With thanks to Chris Lynch Newsroom for use of image.)

10/07/2025

Yes I admit it. “My name is Polly, and I’m a genealogy freak.”

I was researching the name ‘Reichert’. Apparently I have a great great great great grandfather who is, or was, a U.S congressman. Interesting-ish. Naturally this lead me down the garden path to ‘Rabbithole Valley! Too late to turn back. You see this is what ‘rabbit holing’ is all about. You look at your friend’s holiday in Raro, and eventually end up looking at the wedding pictures of someone you have never met in Canada. Don’t you hate that? You just have to pray you didn’t press ‘like’.

Well somehow I ended up down a random hole and finding the list of the rarest surnames in the English speaking world. No idea how or why. I’m fairly sure Reichert is perfectly common. It’s German for Richard, and means ‘hard work’. And as most men that know me will agree, indeed I am. Perhaps I should change my name to,

Polly Hardwork.

Never to be confused with ‘Polly Hardworker.’ That would just encourage too many expectations right?

And now folks. The list. If you had to take one of these incredibly rare last names, what would you pick? I’m going with:

‘Relish’

I toyed with ‘Miracle’ but ‘Polly Miracle’ sounds like an all purpose cleaner. Mind you, ‘Polly Relish’, sounds a bit like a chutney. Go on then. Pick a last name!

10/07/2025

In a tough old world at the moment, there are still kind hearts when you need them most!! ❤️

07/07/2025

“It was a dark and stormy night…”

Followed by a dark and stormy morning. Or just another day in this bleak Wellington Winter. One day last week I found myself with absolutely no way of knowing what time it was. To find out the time I would actually have to get in my car and drive to ‘anywhere’ that had a clock.

This story sounds cross between Alice in Wonderland, and some random horror/ sci-fi movie. The real horror of the story is it’s true, and made me realise how dependent I am on technology. Perhaps also reinforced what fruit loop I remain.

I woke up after having a late night with friends. I had somehow while out - on a school night no less- lost my very expensive glasses. Not at all ideal, as ironically I need my glasses to find my glasses. As I sat in bed trying to mentally retrace my steps, I felt a large wet spot on my duvet. (Stop it. I was alone) As I turned my head I realised to my horror that I had fallen asleep with a glass of water in my hand . While catching up with MasterChef on demand on my laptop.

On that. Does anyone else find Laura profoundly irritating?

I digress. This was about to turn in to a cluster of irritating mini disasters. So now I have no glasses, a wet bed, a laptop that had been in the path of the water, and well, it continues to get trickier. The means by which I charge my phone is not entirely ideal. I charge my IPhone via a charger plugged in to my lap top. I did own many ‘regular’ chargers, but I believe them all to be pilfered by my children. I check my phone, and of course the battery is dead.

Hmmmmm…..

No glasses, fried laptop, dead phone, and no wall clock. I did have a wall clock in my bedroom UNTIL that time I accidentally locked a man in my room a few months ago. (Refer to earlier post and relive that humiliation if you must.) To escape and get to his very important meeting, he had to MacGyver his way out using a spoon, and the picture hook from the back of my clock. “Oh happy days!”

Here I am in a wet bed, fried laptop, no glasses, phone battery on zero percent, and wall clock possibly under my bed sans batteries. What is the time? No idea. Can I call someone to ask the time? Not at all. Remember in the olden days when you had a land line? You could actually call a number and it told you the time? Or even call a friend? Those land lines were underrated. Also underrated? Bedroom door handles that don’t fall off and keep hapless men held hostage in your bedroom.

Now at this point of this ludicrous story you might be wondering why I didn’t simply go to my car and check the time. Right. I’ve been meaning to set the time in my car. Presently it’s flashing 12.00pm. What about the microwave or stove? Same. Both happily flashing 12.00pm in my kitchen. Perpetually ‘High Noon’. (Great classic movie by the way.)

It seems like that I choose to live in a fantasy world where I have my life together, and conduct myself self like an adult, but alas it is but a fantasy and I am Bridget Jones. Great.

How had I become so reliant on technology? So much so that I had clearly I shown it little respect? Maybe, just maybe, this was the peculiar scenario I needed to find myself in a predicament so silly that I’d simply have to sort my life out.

I showered. I got dressed. I drove to the gas station. I bought a proper phone charger. I made an appointment to get new glasses. I visited a laptop repair store, where I was told my laptop had gone to cyber heaven. I’m still looking for my wall clock. I WILL adjust the clocks on my microwave, oven, and in my car. Or a more likely scenario, get my daughter to do that. I will try not to think about my half written book that accompanied my lap top to the after life. Perhaps it wasn’t worth saving. Like Colin Firths characters manuscript that ended up in the lake in ‘Love Actually.’ I do think it was pretty darn good though. Bu**er. As for the bedroom door handle? No idea! Who do I phone? ‘Knobs Are Us’?

25/06/2025

I do NOT live in Murder Bay!

Yesterday. All my troubles seemed so far away..

It was school pick up time and a I was standing outside Roseanna’s classroom, more than slightly ghastly my underdressed for the cold wind and rain that has plagued Wellington this winter. As I attempted to take shelter behind a large man, also waiting for a child, I realised how creepy I must have seemed to him lurking in his shadow. He moved. Can’t blame him. So as I stood shivering, I so wished I’d taken my mother’s advice to always take a coat. It got me thinking.

“I wish it was summer. I wish I was lying on a beach in Hawaii or Rarotonga. I wish I had the money to travel to Hawaii or Rarotonga. Hmmm I think my passport expired two years ago. Where’s my passport? Who cares. I don’t need one. Duh!”

As the children began to poor out of class a friend approached me as she was racing off to swimming lessons with her girls. “Hmmmm I thought…swimming…beach…Hawaii. Oh stop it Polly.”

While she was scurrying past she called out,

“What about the body they found in your neighbours garden?”

Say what?

“Sorry. The what? Where?” I exclaimed.

“Yeah. Thought you might have taken the dog for a walk to see what was going on. All the police cars and crime scene tape! Look it up on Stuff!” The girls tugged on her coat (She was smart. She listened to her mother. She had a coat) and she scurried down the hill.

Getting home I immediately, after defrosting my icy cold fingers, checked for the story. God lord! It was true. Human remains discovered as a new neighbour was gardening. Several things crossed my mind,

“How diabolical. How strange. How sad. This is awful. I wonder if loved ones have been left hooeful, worrying and grieving for a very long time.’

Then a little too quickly for moral comfort, I thought,

“Yikes. Not ideal for property values in the hood.”

Then,

“Quite a cunning plan. The property included an area of the local community gardens. Not a bad idea. I see what you did there murder suspect.”

And then,

23/06/2025

Please watch. If could save careers,jobs,businesses and harm..

I’m incredibly proud to be working alongside the amazing team at Trauma Recovery Aotearoa to help develop a trauma awareness workshop for workplaces across Aotearoa. 💚

This workshop is all about helping managers and team leaders understand trauma, recognise the signs in their teams, and respond in ways that promote healing and safety.

Together, we’re creating a programme that could truly change how we care for one another at work.

My email is: [email protected]

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