Joan's visit

My mom, Joan, is here in New Zealand to visit us again for about a month. She arrived on Dec 31 and will leave on Feb 3. In fact, she went to Hawaii to visit my brother and his family for 2 weeks before she arrived in NZ, and will go there again for 2 weeks afterwards. All together, she will spend 9 weeks on islands in the Pacific, while back home in Bellingham everybody is shivering in record snowfalls. It's a pretty sweet deal. She did the same thing last year, too, but the two visits to New Zealand couldn't be more different.

Last year, it was her first time to this country, so I had a schedule of tourist sights to do every day: museum, aquarium, Piha beach, zoo, One Tree Hill, Devonport, Waiheke Island, Sheepworld, kauri trees, Hamilton, Coromandel, kiwifruit farm, etc. She finally told me to relax; that she only wanted to do tourist things half the time. But whenever we didn't go anywhere, I would inevitably be antsy and bored silly.

Compare that to her current visit: No daily schedule. No tourist sights. We did go to Sydney for 4 days, but we haven't been to many tourist attractions around here. Instead, we go to the local beach at St Heliers for running/walking, then we sit at home and admire the garden the rest of the day. We went to the quilt store once. And Plant Barn more than once (to buy more admirable plants for the garden). Admittedly, we did one traditional tourist activity when we took a ferry to Rangitoto and rode the train to the near-summit. But really, we spend 95% of our time at home doing nothing. And it is glorious.

We sit on the deck in our comfy recliners. Curt drinks coffee. We read the paper. We watch the resident butterfly flit about. Joan has read at least 10 books so far. I'm usually keeping busy with something on the computer. Besides all the gardening, Curt had already made two(!) paintings while she's been here. Sometimes in the evenings, we have driveway parties and socialise with the neighbours.

Alas, Curt had to go back to work last week, and I have to go back to work next week. Then Joan leaves the week after that. So our summer vacation is coming to it end. But it feels like we truly had a vacation this time. A glorious vacation of doing nothing and loving it.

Megan is OK; the scooter is not

Megan asked me to write this because she is too busy marking papers at this moment getting ready for the end of the school year reports.

Here's what happened: On Tuesday morning on the way to work, Megan turned right toward school. It was typical morning rush hour traffic, and it's always a challenge making a right hand turn onto that street. Megan says she checked right and then checked left before crossing, but she forgot to check right again because when she got half way across the street she was hit in what the policeman called "a full side impact." Megan doesn't remember all the details but the next thing she knew she was lying in the middle of the road, turned around facing the direction she came from, her motor scooter was further down the road, and her shoes were on the other side of the scooter.

The whole neighbourhood mobilised to help. One of Megan's students lives right across the street from the accident and came to help. The driver of the car that hit her called 111 for an ambulance. A tow truck arrived almost immediately to pick up the pieces of the scooter. Our neighbour, Margaret, also a teacher at Dio, stopped to help and to take the news to school. Some street repair construction workers placed orange traffic cones around Megan and re-directed traffic a safe distance away. A gardener from the cemetery brought a blanket for Megan. The medics came in an ambulance to check her over but by then she was already sitting on the kerb and the scooter had been pulled to the side of the road on the verge. The police came and interviewed everybody. Then our neighbour Brendon stopped to help with the tow truck which took the scooter to an insurance assessment yard. Then Brendon brought Megan home where she called me at work. She was a little bruised and sore but mostly shook up from the trauma. I hopped on my bicycle and came home to be the primary care giver.

Megan spent the rest of the day recovering, napping, and checking for new bruises and abrasions. Thursday she went to the doctor to have her wrist xrayed because it was sore and blue. The wrist is OK - just sprained a little - but the doctor thinks she may have cracked a rib because she feels pain when she coughs. He said it would be a waste to xray for the rib because they can't treat it anyway. He said if the rib had fractured and punctured her lung, then they could treat it but I guess that didn't happen.

The worst part is that Megan can't sit still for more than an hour so she went to work Wednesday so she wouldn't get so bored. Then she felt tired because her body really needs time to heal, so she decided to work only half a day Thursday. Even that was too much. Friday she has a morning meeting but she won't teach for the rest of the day. I feel like I need to tackle her and pin her down to stop her, but she won't stay still. When she is sitting quietly she continues to mark papers. Grrrr.
Megan says that I shouldn't make it sound worse than it is or people might get alarmed. I think I captured the escence of it pretty much. She is a very lucky girl. That's two close calls in the last two months. Remember the taxi and muffin incident at Trafalger Square? I told her that there is to be no more impacts with cars. This trend must stop.

Curt

Kia ora! Boone here, I've been in New Zealand for a couple weeks now and Mom asked me to make a contribution to the blog so I'll let you all know some of the highlights of my 4-week trip thus far.

I left Vancouver, BC at 1pm on August 19th and landed in Auckland, NZ at 5am on August 21st. August 20th did not happen, I flew into the future. I started off my trip with lots of touristy stuff; I hit up the aquarium, the natural history museum, the zoo,



SkyTower,

and fed a lamb at SheepWorld.

On Tuesday I caught a train into town and then a ferry out to Rangitoto Island, a dormant volcano. I hiked to the top of the volcano and down into the crater, then explored some lava caves on the east side of the island (had to use the flash on the camera to see where I was going).



On Wednesday Mom and I drove out to Piha and climbed to the top of Lion Rock. She wasn't too keen on climbing but I talked her into it. You only live once.


On Thursday I drove 4 hours north to Paihia and found a hostel. I went for a quick afternoon kayak trip down the shore and back and came back to meet my flatmate, a rather talkative Kiwi named David and his lady friend, a Chilean girl named Katie. They introduced me to a few other people at the hostel including Elena from Germany and Fernanda from Brazil. We all went out to the pub and it just so happened to be karaoke night, my favorite. I met a few nice Kiwi lads and a couple of girls from Iowa. After a few beers I ended up singing 'Born in the USA' with the two other Americans which I'm sure was an overly intoxicated performance and obnoxious to the rest of the bar patrons, but it was lots of fun on my end.

The following day David and I woke up
and went on a kayaking adventure in search of Haruru Falls. However, due to a less than helpful map, we never ended up finding them and paddled back home after 4 hours of the most intense upper body workout I've ever had. But alas, so as not to feel entirely defeated, David, Elena and I hiked to the falls (another 4 hour workout) and were victorious. When we got back David and I made some pumpkin masks for the masquerade ball at the pub (his idea). The prize for wearing a mask was a free drink, not sure if it was totally worth the effort.

I've been joining Mom and Dad at church and singing in the choir with them. Last Sunday we sang 8 or 9 songs in a concert after the worship service. Learning 8 or 9 songs from one choir practice was a bit of a stretch for me, but thankfully Dad was singing tenor as well and drowned me out on any of the notes I missed.

Later that Sunday I finally got to experience a "driveway party" that I had heard so much about. This particular driveway party was planned ahead of time, but Mom says if you stand out in the driveway on a nice day with a drink in hand, no fail, people come out and start to accumulate.
We ate sausages (which New Zealanders eat on buttered bread, not hot dog buns), pavlova, bread pudding, meatballs, and drank lots of beer.

Last night I caught a bus downtown and met up with David (from Paihia) for some drinks. We hit up a few clubs, danced a lot, drank a bit, and I ended up crashing at his place as the buses don't run that late and I had no way to get home till the morning.

Tomorrow we're all going to Rotorua for a solid dose of Maori culture and geothermal geysers, and next weekend we're flying down to Wellington for a couple days where I'll get to attend my very first rugby match.

More to come ...

field trips

Last week, I took 60 11-year-old girls to MOTAT, the Museum of Transport and Technology. We'd been studying technology and inventions so the exhibits at MOTAT were perfect for our topic. We saw old cameras and old washing machines and rode an old tram. It was a bit disconcerting, however, when the MOTAT guide showed the girls an old dial telephone and demonstrated how it worked. They were fascinated by this ancient technology. Talk about feeling old! But it was a great trip, and the girls behaved perfectly, as always.

While I was at MOTAT, however, my English class got into a bit of mischief with the reliever (substitute teacher) back at school. The reliever walked in and saw instructions on the board that said "Silent reading for 5 minutes, then playtime." She was justifiably suspicious and went to get the head of the English department, Margaret, who came into my room: "Right. Who wrote that on the board? And what is it really supposed to say?" All the ponytailed little heads turned toward Jennifer, a bubbly little blonde with a bit too much energy. Margaret sorted out what the class was really supposed to be doing with the reliever, and took Jennifer into the corridor to give her the "You Made a Really Bad Choice" speech. It goes something like this: You wasted the reliever's time./I'm sorry./You wasted my time/I'm really sorry/You wasted the class's reading time/I'm very sorry/You violated Mrs. Davidson's trust in you/ I'm truly so sorry/....

Ironically, while I was on the field trip I had told the other teacher that my English class was so good, "even if a reliever never showed up, the girls would probably read for 20 minutes and then do Skill Sheet #4 as instructed." Ha.

In spite of small glitches like that, I've always been a big promoter of field trips. Some teachers hate them and refuse to take their students anywhere, but I love it. I didn't hesitate to take my students to the state capitol building, the courthouse, or even the public library.

One time I was taking my English class to the Portland public library to show them what a library has to offer - besides books, there are magazines, free computers, free CDs, and free movies. I requested parent chaperones. Andrew's dad signed his name on the permission form and said he'd be able to help. Excellent ... except that I knew Andrew's dad had just been released from prison after serving 5 years for a drug offense. Not coincidentally, he was unemployed and therefore available during the day to chaperone field trips.
My fellow teachers thought I was nuts to let him come along, but I figured it was a good sign that a) he wanted to get involved in school events and b) he wanted to spend time with Andrew (who barely knew him). Besides, he could probably c) learn something new about what kinds of things are available at the library. Maybe he would even d) sign up for a library card while we were there. What would you do? Here's what I did: The ex-con and I took 29 students to the library for an hour and everything went fine. Although he did smell like smoke and had a lot of tattoos.

There were no such problems on the field trip to MOTAT. Diocesan parents are not really the ex-con or tattoo type.

Dame Kiri's backup singers

We sang backup for opera diva Dame Kiri TeKanawa this weekend at the Starlight Symphony concert. She's probably best known for singing at Charles and Diana's wedding a few decades ago, and remains an A-list opera soprano even now. Plus she's a dame, which is not a slang term for loose woman as it is in America, but one of those British honorary titles that I don't understand. I'm sure this genuine dame has had far better singers sharing the stage with her during her long career, but I doubt if she's ever had more singers than the 700 of us.

The event is called Starlight Symphony, and it's a free outdoor concert in the park attended by hundreds of thousands of Aucklanders every summer. Besides the Starlight Symphony Mass Choir (that's us), there are a dozen guest stars including young heartthrob/popera singer Will Martin, and this year's home-grown guest of honour, Dame Kiri.

The lady herself attended our rehearsal a few days earlier, and we had all been briefed ahead of time to "be respectful of her privacy." Translation: no pictures. Apparently she can be a bit of a prima dona at times. In fact, she was absolutely lovely and professional with us, thanking us all for participating, speaking in a teeny tiny voice ... but when she sang her voice was anything but teeny tiny! Man, her singing sails above all 700 of ours - without a microphone, mind you. Her only prima dona moment was when she suggested that we needed to turn our pages a bit more quietly. Granted, hundreds of pages being turned simultaneously inside a hot crowded church could be conspicuously noisy. But does she really think it will be an issue outside at the park?

The opera music for this year's Starlight Symphony was quite challenging for me: Toreadors from Carmen, Triumphal March from Aida, and Anvil Chorus from Trovatore. It was all in Italian or French, and seemed to go lickety split. Eventually I resorted to cheating; I skipped all the fast notes. No sixteenth notes. Skipping every other word or syllable probably made me sound like a stuttering Italian, but I blended in with the other 699 of us just fine. Curt, however, soldiered on to successfully sing all the notes as written. That's the kind of guy he is.

Unfortunately, wet weather caused havoc on the Starlight Symphony schedule this year. On Friday evening, we spent five hours at the park in the pouring rain for a dress rehearsal sound check. The stage where the orchestra and the guest stars performed was covered, but we in the choir were exposed to the elements. In spite of flimsy rain ponchos being distributed and an army of umbrellas, we were drenched to the bone. Even worse, our music was soggy and starting to disintegrate. At least that provided a better excuse for why I'm only singing half the notes. The rain also caused a postponement on Saturday's scheduled performance, but it finally went ahead on Sunday instead. The clouds started to spit a few times, but at least it never developed into full fledged rain so we were grateful. In the end, the whole show turned out impressively, but my highlight was definitely singing the Maori ballad, Hine e Hine, with Kiri. It gave me shivers. How many people can say they sang backup for a dame?

Sir Ed and me

Sir Edmund Hillary has died.
In this small country, where there seems to be 3 degrees of separation instead of 6, everyone has a connection to Sir Ed, as he is affectionately called. Here are mine:
• I can't claim to have ever met him, but he lived about 2 miles away and I drive by his house every day on my way to work, if that counts.
• His casket was driven to the cemetery at the end of my street.
• His wife was an Old Girl (alumni) of my school, and their daughter attended my school until age 16 when both perished in a plane crash in Nepal on a visit to see Ed. That was 30 years ago. There is still a Nepalese painting hanging in the school library, donated in honour of Louise and Belinda Hillary.
• My next-door neighbour was acquainted with Sir Ed and more specifically his (second) wife, June: June's sister worked for my neighbour, so they would all get together for a BBQ or whatever. Imagine, Sir Ed has been next door for a sausage sizzle.

Besides admitting to having only the slightest connection between Sir Ed and me, I can also admit to a dearth of similarities between Sir Ed and me.
Ed climbed Mt. Everest, the highest mountain in the world.

I climbed Rangitoto, a volcanic island in Auckland's harbour.




After conquering Everest, he said "We knocked the bastard off"
After huffing and puffing to the top of Rangitoto, I said "Who's idea was this?"

It must have taken Ed days/weeks/months to

travel by ship to India, then over land to Nepal, then walked to Base Camp, Camp 1, etc. until he got to the top.

I had a pleasurable forty-five minute ferry ride from Auckland, and hiked for a few hours.

Ed wore crampons on his boots.

I wore Teva sandals.

The temperature was below zero when Ed climbed Mt. Everest.

It was about 15ºC/60ºF when I hiked Rangitoto.

During his climb, Ed probably said encouraging things like, "Keep going, we can do it!"

During my hike I complained and belly-ached and said things like, "I'm too old for this!"

Ed was 33.

I was 50.

Ed had trouble breathing because of the altitude.

I had trouble breathing because I was out of shape.

From the top of Everest, Ed had a view of everything on Earth.

From the top of Rangitoto, I had a gorgeous view of Auckland and the Hauraki Gulf.

Back at Camp 4, Ed and Tenzig probably had a cuppa tea.

On Rangitoto, I drank bottled water. It was ice cold, and very refreshing.

Afterwards, part of the mountain was named after him: the Hillary Step.

I got nothing.

Here's what I like about Sir Ed: It's not that he was the first to reach the top of Mt. Everest, or raced to the South Pole, or gave all his money to the needy in Nepal. No, it's that he went to palaces and mansions, met royalty and millionaires and - as he described it - never saw much to envy, let alone emulate. I like that he's called Sir Ed. Most of all, I am impressed that his name is listed in the phone book under "Hillary, Sir Edmund." That says everything about him and about this country.

Act II, Scene 3: citybound and southbound

CITYBOUND:
On Thursday, I took Carlin and Kristen to the aquarium, called Kelly Tarlton's.  First, we got to see a scuba diver hand feeding the fish in Underwater World.  She was getting mobbed by all the fish and turtles, and I'm sure it made her feel quite popular.  There was also a Stingray Encounter with a diver feeding the huge stingrays as they moved elegantly through the water.  Their wingspan was about 6 feet!  But our favourite part was the penguins.  We rode the little snow vehicle through the penguin exhibit 3 times, watching them swim and dive and twirl in the water.  There were even baby penguins recently hatched, all fluffy and cute, and you could see them hiding under their parent, occasionally sticking out a webbed foot or a grey head.  Strangely, there were about 100 girls from my school there, on a class trip with their science teachers. It seems I can't escape school even when I'm not there.

On Friday, I went to the Auckland Zoo with Carlin and Kristen ... and about 100 students from my school. Yes, there was another class trip courtesy of the science department. Yesterday, the Year 9 girls went to the aquarium, and today the Year 8 girls went to the zoo. What are the odds? Mostly, I tried to be incognito, either wearing sunglasses or hiding under an umbrella, depending on the weather at the moment. But at each place, a few girls noticed me "Look, there's the libarry lady!" or "Hey, isn't that the libarrian?" (What I want to know is: why can't they pronounce library correctly?)

Besides girls in Diocesan school uniforms, there were plenty of exotic animals at the zoo. Seals played and wrestled while sea lions whooshed through the water. The kangaroos were disappointingly lazy, but the emu came right up to us. A mama spider monkey clung onto her baby while scolding a mischievous teenage monkey who wouldn't obey. A peacock was showing off his feathers. Carlin especially like Janie, the last of the Tea Party gorillas. Apparently, back in the 1950s, the zoo used to dress up 4 gorillas in frilly dresses and they would have a tea party for the crowd. Janie is the last one alive, and she is pretty old but still entertaining as she searches for her food, hidden in various containers around her enclosure. We also saw rhinos and hippos and lions and tigers and cheetahs. Sadly, we never were able to locate the (nocturnal) kiwi bird in its dark exhibit. We learned two new Scrabble words while we were there, but I've forgotten one of them already: spronk is what the springboks do when they jump straight up in the air as if their legs were pogo sticks. And the other new word was ???

After the zoo, we went to Newmarket for lunch where - you guessed it - I saw 2 more Diocesan students and one Diocesan teacher. I think they're tailing me. Or stalking me.

Next, I dragged Carlin and Kristen to the Auckland Museum for a short visit. I really wanted them to experience the volcano exhibit, where you sit in a living room and watch a volcano erupt a few hundred metres offshore from Mission Bay. We also briefly walked through the Maori and Pacific Island exhibits, marvelling at the giant waka and the ornate marae. After seeing a few bugs (wetas) and birds (giant moa), we were exhausted. It had been a long day. I wouldn't recommend going to the zoo AND the museum in the same day. On the plus side, I didn't see a single Diocesan student while at the museum. Whew.

SOUTHBOUND:
Once we arrived home at about 4:00, we immediately started packing for a road trip to Rotorua. Unfortunately, the traffic did not cooperate and we didn't arrive in Rotorua until 9:30. During the drive, Kristen and Carlin played Scrabble in the back seat until Kristen started getting carsick, so she and I switched places and I took over her Scrabble game. I lost badly, but kept everyone entertained which was my real objective. Even Kristen forgot about feeling icky and laughed a few times.

Along the way, we stopped for coffee at a little place in the middle of nowhere and saw the most curious mail boxes. Apparently, this cafe served as the local post office, and each local resident had a post box. This in itself doesn't seem overly curious until you look closely at their numbering system. It went
like this: 1 2 3 4 5 35 38 42 44 43 11 12 31 14 15 16 17 18 19 20. Hmmm. To add further confusion, there was a small piece of tape on box #43 that said 10. We debated the possible origin of their numbering system while drinking our coffee and, unable to come up with any reasonable explanation, moved on.

The next morning in Rotorua, we went to Te Puia, a Maori cultural centre and geothermal site. Curt and I had been there once before, a few weeks after we landed in NZ, almost two years ago.  The Maori performance was still the best part - I volunteered to do the hongi with the welcomer lady because I was the only tourist who knew what a hongi was (it's a nose-to-nose greeting). The guy doing the fierce welcome this time wasn't as fierce as the last time we were here. But the dancing and singing was great. They even invited ladies from the audience up to the stage to learn bits of the poi dance, so Kristen and I volunteered to make fools of ourselves. We twirled little white balls on their strings and tried to remember out steps at the same time, not entirely successfully. Then they invited men on to the stage to learn the haka, and Curt and Carlin gave it a go. Curt tried to be especially ferocious. After the Maori performance, we went to see the bubbling mud and the geysers. Carlin was happy when the geyser finally erupted.

Before leaving Rotorua, we had a picnic lunch at the lakefront, and walked over to an amazing church decorated with Maori carvings all over the walls and the altar and the pews. In the courtyard outside the church, we could also feel the thermal energy below our feet pushing up the pavement and discolouring the concrete.

On the way home to Auckland from Rotorua, we stopped at Hamilton Gardens and saw 4 weddings going on there! It's a popular location, obviously, for wedding pictures. Carlin and Kristen liked the Italian Garden best while I liked the Herb Garden, and Curt liked the Sustainable Garden with heaps of cool ideas.

For the last hour in the car, we played word games like G-H-O-S-T and I kept them entertained again. I kept trying to use the letter Z just because I like saying zed. We finally got home at about 8:00, and stayed up even later playing Taboo next. I haven't played Taboo in 10 years probably but I was always really good at it which infuriated Curt, who was never very good at it. That explains why we haven't played in 10 years, I guess. I have this theory that women are better at Taboo because they have more connectors in their brains from the right side to the left side. They are able to think more creatively while men tend to think linearly. In Taboo, thinking linearly is clearly a disadvantage. We played the women against the men. Need I tell you who won?

Lastly, we looked at photo albums. I had spent 6 weeks compiling 10 years' worth of memories and I needed to show them to someone so Carlin and Kristen were the lucky winners. They were good sports about it. Plus, Memory Lane is a fun place to be.

Well. It had been a busy week and an even busier weekend. But their time with us in NZ was almost over, for they were flying home to America in just 2 short days.

Act II, Scene 1: The newlyweds arrive

MONDAY - Carlin & Kristen arrived to spend the next 2 weeks with us. On their first night in NZ, we took them for a drive to the neighbourhood beach and on the way back, I gave Carlin his first driving lesson for driving on the left. It always sounds scarier than it is; people usually get the hang of it within a few days. He did fine.

TUESDAY - Curt and I had to go to work today so we sent the intrepid travellers off to explore Auckland on their own. They even put gas in my car and did the grocery shopping! I think I'm going to like having them around.

That evening, we took them to One Tree Hill for a great view of Auckland from sea to sea. New Zealand is so narrow at this spot that you can see both east and west coasts. Kristen especially liked the sheep who eat the grass on One Tree Hill (instead of using lawnmowers). We stopped at a fence and tried to entice a sheep near us, but it wasn't interested.

Back at the house, they played Scrabble while I marked papers. Curt won the Scrabble game, of course. Poor Kristen didn't realise she was marrying into a ruthless Scrabble family.

WEDNESDAY - Carlin & Kristen came to my school today for morning teatime to meet my colleagues. Then they went to Newmarket to shop (it's the ritzy shopping area), and finally they met Curt for a picnic lunch. He took them to Winter Garden, a beautiful setting in the the huge domain (park) near his office.

I've been feeling a little lost at work concerning my English class, not knowing what they did while I was gone, or what I'm supposed to be teaching them now that I'm back. Since I only teach one class, I'm often out of the loop. Well today, I got a bombshell. The head of the English Dept came to the library to see me and asked how I was doing. "You do know that reports (report cards) are due tomorrow morning, don't you?" What? I had no idea. Somehow, I thought Dec 6 was the due date for reports. Oh my. I started entering scores right away, but knew it would take me HOURS.

On top of that, I got a call from the HR guy at my school. I had applied for a job as a Social Studies teacher on Monday, and they wanted to interview me. This was good news ... but the interview was the following day, and I had to prepare a sample lesson plan. It looked like I was going to be up all night.

I would've preferred to skip choir practice and work on my reports, but Carlin was coming to practice a song with the choir so I felt I should be there. I was the one who got him roped into this in the first place. The poor guy. His own mother had talked him into performing with the choir on viola while he was here on his honeymoon. I am shameless. In my defence, I was imagining a simple hymn where he could just pick out a nice harmony line, but our director chose a longer and far more complicated song which Carlin would have to practice. (The choir was going to need lots of practice, too) At least Carlin and Kristen got to meet some of the choir folk who have been so good to us, and they were all pleased to hear him play.

Back at the house, I was madly writing reports while Carlin and Kristen played a "friendly game" of Scrabble (read: not always friendly). Eventually, everyone went to bed except me. I stayed up till 1:00 a.m. finishing stupid reports, and preparing for my job interview the next day. At least I wouldn't have to go to work the following day. I was taking it off because it was American Thanksgiving. I'd been hoping to do some sightseeing with Carlin and Kristen, but instead I would be going to a job interview ... and shopping and cooking Thanksgiving dinner.

THURSDAY (THANKSGIVING) -
Prepared a few dishes for the Thanksgiving feast that morning before I went to the job interview at 11:00. It seemed to go pretty well. I think it was more than a courtesy interview, at least. They were impressed with the student work samples I brought, including the packet of instructions all laid out for the kids - timeline, grading rubric, parent signature, etc. They liked my IT skills, too. Fingers crossed.

On the way home, I stopped at the grocery store for more turkey day supplies, but still couldn't find pumpkin pie or Durkee's French Fried Onion Rings, a necessary ingredient for the traditional Green Bean Casserole (Carlin's favourite). Eventually found a recipe to make my own french fried onion rings which was amazingly easy! As for pumpkin pie ... I decided to skip it. I don't even like pumpkin pie so I wasn't inclined to make one from scratch. Sent Carlin and Kristen to the store to buy an alternative dessert. They wisely chose something chocolate.

Made the usual turkey, stuffing, etc. but added a bit of Kiwi culture by using kumara as the sweet potato dish. When Curt got home, he started the tates and gravy. Mmmm. My favourite part. Kristen and Carlin put extra leaves in the dining room table, for we had invited our neighbours over for an authentic American Thanksgiving.

Our neighbours, Bruce and Annette and their two boys Sam (8) and Nick (6) arrived in time for some traditional pre-dinner Thanksgiving colouring: Carlin taught the boys how to make an outline of their hand and turn it into a turkey. They were suitably impressed and created some masterpieces of their own. Sam was also impressed when Carlin played a few songs on the piano for him. Sam had recently started taking piano lessons, and it was fun for him to see how years of practice could pay off. He even fetched some of his music and played for us. Sam and Nick also kept busy playing with our giant tub of Legos. It was nice to see that little boys of this generation are still enthralled with Legos, like my boys were. We explained the background of the Thanksgiving holiday to everyone, how the Pilgrims would've all starved to death their first year without help from the Indians, etc. And of course, we ate too much. But it sure was good.

After dinner, we all needed to go for a walk and burn off some of those calories, so Bruce and Annette grabbed their dog and we all went to a nearby parkland. Carlin threw the tennis ball for the dog, a golden retriever who reminded us of Duffy, the dog he'd grown up with. The little boys chased each other and ran off steam, while the adults enjoyed the conversation and the serene setting. It was a perfect way to end a lovely day.

Last year, we didn't do anything on Thanksgiving; it was just another day at work for us. So this year it was nice to have Carlin and Kristen here, and it was a prefect excuse to put on a big Thanksgiving dinner. And inviting our friends to be a part of our American holiday made it even more special.

FRIDAY - Went to work at 7:30 and got a call from the HR guy at 8:00 offerring me the Social Studies job! The Humanities Dept loved me, apparently. I was applying for a part-time position, but they wanted to know if I would take the full-time position instead. I had been hoping to teach part-time and still work in the library part-time, but had recently found out that I wouldn't be allowed to, unfortunately. After agonising indecision, I eventually decided to teach part-time: 4 classes of Social Studies and 1 class of English. But no more library, which was sad. Initially, I was a little angry that I wasn't allowed to stay in the library part-time, but I had to remind myself of all the recent whistleblower drama I had been caught up in. I was being given an opportunity to get away from that craziness and into a higher-paying job. I should be happy! Plus it felt so good that someone wanted me. 

Meanwhile, back to reality: It was getting close to the end of the school year and there were lots of special events around the school. Somehow, an English teacher forgot to come teach her class in the library 6th period. Her girls were all there, but there was no teacher. Yikes. Barbara and I did our best to manage the orphan class and run the library simultaneously. In addition, our library boss had been home sick most of the week and was not at school to teach her class, also 6th period. Unfortunately, she forgot to tell the appropriate person to secure a reliever (substitute teacher). About 20 minutes into the period, we got a frantic call at the library. Where was the Library Manager who was supposed to be teaching her class? Do we know what her class was meant to be doing? Where is the video they should be watching? So I hustled the video up to the classroom, only to find absolute pandemonium: One girl had covered her face with stickers (and couldn't see) and had two pairs of pink knickers on her head. Yes, underpants. The rest of the class was - as you can imagine - out of control. Good Lord. I removed the knicker-headed girl from the room, did my best I'm-really-mad-and-I-mean-it voice to settle the class, and turned on the movie, Romeo and Juliet. At least the knickers were clean.

At home that night I had heaps to report : the job offer, 2 unattended classes, and the girl with knickers on her head. Carlin and Kristen had heaps to report, too: They'd taken the train downtown all by themselves, shopped at the outdoor market, took the ferry to Devonport, and had fish & chips for lunch.

Carlin and I had an important conversation later that night. We stayed up late (too late) talking about my feelings that I was "losing him." Part of my sadness came from the fact that he and Kristen would be living in Phoenix, 1200 miles away from Bellingham where all our family gatherings would be. Whenever Curt and I fly back to America, Bellingham would be the logical destination ... but Carlin wouldn't be there. I hardly had any right to blame him, though because we're the ones who moved 7,000 miles away to the other side of the world. Still.  It's hard to let go, I guess.