I finally got up this morning and took a walk over the hill to watch the sunrise over Seatoun Beach. I know what you're thinking. "You live 10 minutes from the beach and you JUST took a walk over there?". I mean seriously, could I ask for anything more inspiring to get me out the door for some exercise in the morning? Whatever, it was amazing and my flabby middle section thanks me. The hill is straight up and the vistas that open up on the top are amazing. How did I end up here in this country? Is this really my life where I can get up leaving my daughters and husband sleeping quietly and go for a walk to the beach? Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd get out of Idaho when I was a kid. I think riding in a limo was on the top of my wildest dream list. :)
Anyhow, during my walk this morning I drank in all the signs of spring. Freesia, lilies of the valley, hyacinth all pushing their way out to the sun. As I passed other people out for their morning walks I realized I didn't know what to say. How do you greet other folks here in New Zealand? This sounds silly right? That was exactly what I told myself. So I just said what I would say at home, "Morning!". It's a declaration and a greeting all at once. Everyone except an older gentelman said it back. He said "Good Day." And it is indeed.
Anyhow, during my walk this morning I drank in all the signs of spring. Freesia, lilies of the valley, hyacinth all pushing their way out to the sun. As I passed other people out for their morning walks I realized I didn't know what to say. How do you greet other folks here in New Zealand? This sounds silly right? That was exactly what I told myself. So I just said what I would say at home, "Morning!". It's a declaration and a greeting all at once. Everyone except an older gentelman said it back. He said "Good Day." And it is indeed.
Always interesting to see what you look like to two-year-olds. Go Endicott!
In some ways, I've never really allowed myself to establish roots, or rather, I've been conditioned not to.
When I look back at my elementary school days I realize that I changed schools 10 times between 1st and 5th grade. The change was partly due to a genius custody agreement that mandated I alternate years with each parent. I don't think they made considerations for the fact that my parents might move out of the same town or state for that matter. The other factor is that my mother, who refers to herself as "a gypsy", is nomadic at best and had a thing for abusive relationships. I learned pretty early on that you would have to pack everything you need into one garbage bag in 20 minutes and flee.
So creating a "home" was a foreign thing to me. I remember when Jake and I got our first apartment together I never decorated. Jake would beg for my opinion on decorating or ask me to hang something up that I liked. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. When we bought our first house in California I was a bit more confident that the world as I know it wasn't going to be jerked out from under me. So I painted, picked out furniture, hung pictures on the walls, and gardened. Then we had Sophie so I went through the expected nesting period. By the time we moved, our house was bursting at the seams. Little did I know I was about to be living out of a suitcase again.
After our well laid plans fell on their rumps, we landed with my in-laws for much longer than we expected with all of our stuff buttoned up in a storage unit and our 4 suitcases full of stuff. One baby and a year and a half later, we moved into our own place and unpacked all of that stuff. It just seemed like too much. We hadn't needed all of this stuff for this long, why do we need it now? The pile for Salvation Army was growing and growing, finally Jake called it quits when I started throwing away all of our pots and pans because "we really only need on pan and one pot".
All of this seems like it was training or conditioning if you will for living here in New Zealand. We brought only our suitcases (even if it was 9 of them) and our sense of adventure. We scored with a furnished rental which even had a few toys left over from previous renters. I haven't hung one picture in 4 months. The only things I've purchased for the girls rooms are a crib for Josie and plastic buckets to hold the small toys that they did bring. But, I am constantly finding myself wanting for things. A microplane zester for cheese and citrus fruit. A digital scale would save me and my laptop so much time and wear from converting every recipe. But I already have those things at home, in a storage unit. And I really don't want to buy duplicates of everything. Then again, what if we are here longer than the one year we expected? What if our rental doesn't renew and we are left with the bare minimum again? What if? What if? I am living in a temporary state again and I'm trying to strike a balance between being an uber consumer and starting a commune where we raise sheep for food and clothing. Ok, that's a bit dramatic but what I'm saying is I haven't got a cohesive way of thinking or feeling about this due to the unknowns. Some people seem so at peace with it. Maybe I'm just not to the breaking point yet.
When I look back at my elementary school days I realize that I changed schools 10 times between 1st and 5th grade. The change was partly due to a genius custody agreement that mandated I alternate years with each parent. I don't think they made considerations for the fact that my parents might move out of the same town or state for that matter. The other factor is that my mother, who refers to herself as "a gypsy", is nomadic at best and had a thing for abusive relationships. I learned pretty early on that you would have to pack everything you need into one garbage bag in 20 minutes and flee.
So creating a "home" was a foreign thing to me. I remember when Jake and I got our first apartment together I never decorated. Jake would beg for my opinion on decorating or ask me to hang something up that I liked. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. When we bought our first house in California I was a bit more confident that the world as I know it wasn't going to be jerked out from under me. So I painted, picked out furniture, hung pictures on the walls, and gardened. Then we had Sophie so I went through the expected nesting period. By the time we moved, our house was bursting at the seams. Little did I know I was about to be living out of a suitcase again.
After our well laid plans fell on their rumps, we landed with my in-laws for much longer than we expected with all of our stuff buttoned up in a storage unit and our 4 suitcases full of stuff. One baby and a year and a half later, we moved into our own place and unpacked all of that stuff. It just seemed like too much. We hadn't needed all of this stuff for this long, why do we need it now? The pile for Salvation Army was growing and growing, finally Jake called it quits when I started throwing away all of our pots and pans because "we really only need on pan and one pot".
All of this seems like it was training or conditioning if you will for living here in New Zealand. We brought only our suitcases (even if it was 9 of them) and our sense of adventure. We scored with a furnished rental which even had a few toys left over from previous renters. I haven't hung one picture in 4 months. The only things I've purchased for the girls rooms are a crib for Josie and plastic buckets to hold the small toys that they did bring. But, I am constantly finding myself wanting for things. A microplane zester for cheese and citrus fruit. A digital scale would save me and my laptop so much time and wear from converting every recipe. But I already have those things at home, in a storage unit. And I really don't want to buy duplicates of everything. Then again, what if we are here longer than the one year we expected? What if our rental doesn't renew and we are left with the bare minimum again? What if? What if? I am living in a temporary state again and I'm trying to strike a balance between being an uber consumer and starting a commune where we raise sheep for food and clothing. Ok, that's a bit dramatic but what I'm saying is I haven't got a cohesive way of thinking or feeling about this due to the unknowns. Some people seem so at peace with it. Maybe I'm just not to the breaking point yet.
We often find ourselves in conversations with folks back home discussing the cost of things. Or rather, how expensive things are here. It usually peters out when no one has the brain power to convert the measurement system and the currency. So here I've compiled a small sampling of the items and their costs in our NZ dollars and the cost in US dollars. Sadly, we are paid in NZ dollars so the conversion doesn't really make much difference to us. Enjoy and if you find yourself wondering how much something would cost over here, let me know and I'll check it out for you.
1 Liter of Petrol - NZ $1.99 = US $5.36 per gallon
1 dozen eggs - NZ $3.10 = US $2.20 US
2 liters of organic milk - NZ $4.00 = US $5.39 per gallon
1 Chux scrubber sponge - NZ $4.00 = US $2.84 per sponge
1 tube Maybelline mascara - NZ $23.00 - US $19.93
1 loaf multigrain bread - NZ $3.80 = US $2.70
250 g parmesan - NZ $6.67 = US $8.60 per pound
watermelon - NZ $5.99 kg = US $9.38 per pound (it's out of season here)
Renu Contact solution 500 mL NZ $28 = US $ 19.99 for a 17 ounce bottle
1 Liter of Petrol - NZ $1.99 = US $5.36 per gallon
1 dozen eggs - NZ $3.10 = US $2.20 US
2 liters of organic milk - NZ $4.00 = US $5.39 per gallon
1 Chux scrubber sponge - NZ $4.00 = US $2.84 per sponge
1 tube Maybelline mascara - NZ $23.00 - US $19.93
1 loaf multigrain bread - NZ $3.80 = US $2.70
250 g parmesan - NZ $6.67 = US $8.60 per pound
watermelon - NZ $5.99 kg = US $9.38 per pound (it's out of season here)
Renu Contact solution 500 mL NZ $28 = US $ 19.99 for a 17 ounce bottle
I can tell myself over and over that it's almost Spring, but I don't feel it. What I am anticipating, even after two winters in a row, is Fall. Late season berry picking, argyle socks & back to school shopping. Pencils, folders, crayon boxes. Caramel apple cider back on the Starbuck's menu.
I keep trying to do winter baking or cooking and keep coming up with citrus desserts or salads or kebabs. All of my cooking seems to be tied to the season on the Northern Hemisphere. I should probably start buying some pumpkins and making puree otherwise, they'll be nowhere to be found come Thanksgiving. No canned pumpkin puree over here! But will I even feel like making pie in late spring?
I find myself looking at the girls summer clothes and finding ways for them to incorporate their tank tops and light colored skirts into their winter wardrobe. Are little girls supposed to wear red velvet dresses in a winter that does not have Christmas? It's all so intertwined that I can't get the knot of seasons and holidays and tradition loosened for a peek.
People keep trying to make us feel better about being seasonally jacked by saying "But you'll have Christmas outside by the BBQ." I'm sorry, but that is just WRONG and my subconscious will back me up on this one.
I keep trying to do winter baking or cooking and keep coming up with citrus desserts or salads or kebabs. All of my cooking seems to be tied to the season on the Northern Hemisphere. I should probably start buying some pumpkins and making puree otherwise, they'll be nowhere to be found come Thanksgiving. No canned pumpkin puree over here! But will I even feel like making pie in late spring?
I find myself looking at the girls summer clothes and finding ways for them to incorporate their tank tops and light colored skirts into their winter wardrobe. Are little girls supposed to wear red velvet dresses in a winter that does not have Christmas? It's all so intertwined that I can't get the knot of seasons and holidays and tradition loosened for a peek.
People keep trying to make us feel better about being seasonally jacked by saying "But you'll have Christmas outside by the BBQ." I'm sorry, but that is just WRONG and my subconscious will back me up on this one.
A few weeks before we bought our first house in Petaluma, we came home late on a Friday night (ah, those carefree weekends without kids!) to find our website's namesake, Tiny E, listless and glassy-eyed on the couch. He was unresponsive and not his usual sassy self.
After some deliberation (could it wait until morning? what vet is open at midnight on a Friday?) we decided to call our vet and were referred by their answering machine to the emergency veterinary clinic, only a short drive from our apartment. Based on our description of his symptoms they advised us to bring him in. My memory is hazy now but I believe they kept him overnight, ran some blood tests and determined he had Feline Lower Urinary Tract Disease (FLUTD), something akin to kidney stones but potentially life-threatening. We picked him up the next morning with orders to change his diet, paid the extravagant bill and went home.
Eliot was fine until the following Friday or Saturday night, when we came home to find him in the same condition. Rinse and repeat, cha-ching. Little by little over the course of several weeks, thanks to Eliot's impeccable timing (he couldn't get sick during regular business hours?) we wound up spending an enormous amount of money on emergency vet visits and eventual surgery to correct his condition - just as we were eating ramen and scrimping every penny to make the down-payment on our first house.
Everything worked out in the end of course (Eliot is still alive and well, and thanks to the efforts of Kevin, Kim, Piper & Presley enjoying our time overseas in the lovely environs of Ithaca, NY), but it sure made for some sleepless nights back then. We both consider ourselves animal lovers, but also practical blue-collar folks who don't spend that kind of money on our pets. In the end it wasn't much of a debate - we found a way to make it work, sucked it up and went on.
Eula must have been paying attention those ten or twenty times she's heard us tell this story, and decided she'd have to outdo the little gray b*stard once and for all. Shortly before we left for New Zealand she developed an occasional limp in one of her hind legs: it was minor enough at first for me to think her leg had just fallen asleep from the awkward position she was sleeping in (expert in veterinary science that I am). Of course I was wrong, and it got worse after we left: a few vet visits and a trip to the specialist later we found out she had a torn ligament in her leg, possibly due to a fracture when she was a puppy. There's a good chance it can be corrected, but it ain't cheap - ironically, just about the same amount of money we spent on Eliot all those years ago.
Thankfully she is in good hands, and the staff at Camp Nagapapa know how to spoil a dog. With any luck she'll be "golfing" (the specialist's analogy, comparing her to an injured NFL player who may never play football again but should be able to tee off) soon and her care-free self again. Eula will have her revenge and prove that she is just as important as Eliot, and I'm sure will someday smile in her sleep to hear us tell this story about her.
This is our biggest concentration of birthdays at the Ranch, and probably the one week (other than Christmas) I most want to be home. My entire family converges onto Camp Nagapapa for what is usually the final bash of the summer, and the most continuous use of the pool all year.
At least one campfire is involved (with requisite smores) and at least two or three runs for Friendly's ice cream (with the world's best peanut butter sauce). Spiedes, sausages & peppers, corn on the cob, salt potatoes, coleslaw, tomato & basil salad, guacamole & chips are all usually consumed by the truckload, and any leftovers mysteriously disappear from the fridge overnight (with a trail of crumbs leading to a certain upstairs bedroom).
Happy Birthday to Uncle Anthony, Aunt Lauren, Grandpa George and Aunt Sarah: may your birthday weeks be as good as we're imagining them to be!
I first heard about this phenomenon called "beer o'clock" from my friend Sean, who worked in stop-motion animation in film before becoming an artisan jam maker and Maya animator on such excellent games as Insecticide (plug alert!): I'm not sure if it's an industry-wide habit, limited to vfx or just a few studios but every Friday afternoon at 6pm we gather in the kitchen at work for a social hour to kick off the weekend.
During the week there's a jar labeled "Beer & Kransky Fund" on the kitchen table for everyone to contribute to, which sometime Friday afternoons magically turns into a huge spread of cheese, crackers, dips, chips, wine, beer and fried sausages. Often our friend and baking goddess Lori brings her amazing cookies, and on one very special occasion our friend Victor went spear-fishing and grilled fresh fish for the event.
Most people just stop by for a beer on their way home to their families, but sometimes they bring their families in too. Sophie & Josie are regulars now, and love all the attention (as well as the potato chips) they get from my co-workers. Last week the drum-kit (used for impromptu jam sessions that sometimes accompany the event) was setup but unattended, so Marilyn gave Sophie a quick lesson that turned into probably half an hour of drumming. Josie was enjoying one of Lori's cookies too much to be interested but soon joined her for a bash.
Beer o'clock is a lot of fun, and something we all look forward to every week now.
We've fallen behind a bit in updating the girls' photo albums since we've been here, partly because we've wanted to group all of our experiences together rather than split them into separate areas. I guess it's a sign that we're finally feeling more settled to just have everyday photos to post again.
At any rate there are some real beauties in here, about three pages worth for each: mostly they're the result of my lovely wife's excellent photographic eye (and of course her ability to make beautiful babies!)
Sophie's New Pics
Josie's New Pics
Here in the Wellington suburbs, it's common for neighborhoods to have their own clusters of specialized shops. While we started out using only the supermarket and the one bulk style store (that we can find) we've started warming up to our local shops. The fact that they are only one block away has been a big convenience factor.
They are all lined up in a neat little row right beyond the roundabout.
- There's the 4 Square which is similar to a mini mart back home. If you need something in a pinch, they carry a bit of everything including produce, ice cream, wine, laundry soap and of course, lottery tickets.
- Indian Take Away which has a killer family pack and some of the biggest pieces of naan I've ever eaten.
- The Chemist is next to them and resembles a very, very small Walgreens. It's main function is a pharmacy but they beef out the store with lotions, beauty products, and toys.
- Hell Pizza who is running a Sell Your Soul Contest is next in line. It's alright pizza if you don't want to make your own but we've been on a pizza making bender lately. Plus it's fun to try out all the different topping combinations they've come up with. I think our last was called "Mordor" and I was incorrectly informed that it wasn't spicy. I should have known...
- The Strathmore Butcher with one of the best signs I've ever seen (see above). Plus, the dudes are so helpful each time I go in. They explain things to me and never once have they cringed when I've asked "What's on special?"
- The Chinese restaurant which we haven't tried yet, but the menu scares me a bit. Fish and chips, Chinese food and fried chicken. I guess once you've mastered frying you don't have to limit yourself to one region of cuisine (if you can call this type of fried food cuisine). I'm slamming food that I haven't even tried. Open mouth insert foot for the next shop.
- Acropolis Fish and Chips shop that we love. Or "lurv" if you want to take a hint from their sign and put a NZ spin on it. I take back my slam on fried food for this shop only because they seem to have recognized their specialty. Actually it has more to do with the fact that I like the woman in this shop and I am comfortable with burgers and fried fish being on the same menu. They offer fried candy bars as well and if that isn't close to Americana, I don't know what is.
- The Strathmore Dairy which is an even smaller version of a minimart and carries drinks, ice cream, milk, chips etc.
- The Barber Shop. Two chairs, always a line during lunch. Jake dropped in for a pretty stylish haircut a while back.
- Last but absolutely not least is the Strathmore Bakery. It's a bakery/coffee shop/breakfast and lunch place all wrapped into one. My ideal! We headed over for breakfast two weekends ago with the girls and they had some of the yummiest yeast donuts I've ever eaten. They bake cookies, bread, cakes, savory pies and donuts.
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