GRANDMERE THE WICKED WITCH

On Friday, for the second time, I took a pack of four frozen choccy treats, along with a roast chicken, to my daughter's place. Cat, as she's universally known, and her husband Tiki have a vineyard at Haumoana in Hawke's Bay, and as harvest time approaches the plot thickens and the nerves thin.

(Actually, when I found she wasn't home and couldn't force entry, I had to deliver them to the wild game salami cottage industry next door.)

Tonight, Cat reports, when the Tiptop trumpets were handed out there was an unusual and prolonged silence. It was broken by six year-old Theo(-dorable).

'Is Grandmere really a wicked witch,' he asked, 'who's fattening us up so she can eat us?'