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.

Christmas Letter for 2008

                                                  2008
                         A year of momentous celebrations.
                         … and a few disappointing ordeals:
January -
• in which Megan’s mother Joan was here to visit
• in which we learned these momentous revelations about dear old Mum: she named Megan after a character in the book Apple Tree by Galsworthy; she is afraid of heights (has never been up Seattle’s Space Needle); and she went to a strip club on her 18th birthday (courtesy of the corrupting influence of her older sister)
February -
• in which we sang back-up (along with 700 others) for opera diva Dame Kiri Te Kanawa at an outdoor concert in the park
• in which we had a driveway party with our neighbours to wish Joan a bon voyage
• in which the school year began and Megan was back in a classroom teaching Social Studies and English, in addition to a little librarian work on the side
March -
• in which Austin (28) embarked on a Political Science degree
April -
• in which Megan tried a very British sport called bowls, which is similar to bowling only there are no pins to knock down, it’s played outdoors on perfect grass, and everyone wears white and keeps a stiff upper lip
May -
• in which Megan celebrated another birthday and disappointingly got another year older
• in which the newlyweds (Carlin and Kristen) living in Phoenix, got a new dog
June -
• in which we began a series of ascents of Auckland’s 50 volcanic cones – called mountains, but actually just hills a few hundred metres high
• in which we went to see the musical Priscilla, Queen of the Desert - good fun with outrageous costumes, plenty of ‘70s disco retrospective, and therapy for any latent homophobia
July -
• in which Megan bought a scooter and achieved notoriety among the students as the teacher on the red scooter riding around Auckland. Her coolness factor increased substantially
• in which Megan wanted to sing with a select group to welcome Condoleezza Rice’s visit to New Zealand, but was disappointingly rejected because they were recruiting young singers, despite being the only one who already knew the words to the American national anthem AND being able to sing in a fluent American accent
August -
• in which Nolan (26) announced he would be going to law school next year
• in which Boone (23) came to visit and to summit 8 mountains/volcanic cones/hills while here
• in which Boone played Scrabble against Curt 18 times during his 4 week visit – Boone won 12 times but that’s only because Curt disappointingly had “crap for letters”
• in which we had another driveway party to celebrate Boone’s visit, and then another
September -
• in which we went to our first rugby game, a truly Kiwi experience
• in which we stopped in Bellingham, WA on the way to England, and Curt delivered 3 original paintings as gifts to the boys:

• in which we spent 3 weeks in England to celebrate our 30th anniversary
• in which Megan was hit by a taxi in London while walking across the street. She survived with minor bruises; her beloved muffin was smashed in the ordeal
• in which we went to Bellingham, England and learned it’s pronounced Bell-in-jum there. Really.
October -
• in which we stopped in Portland, OR on our way home from England and saw Curt’s family, our old church family, and Megan’s old school (plus a special stop for Mrs. Fields cookies)
• in which we came home to learn that our church had failed miserably during our brief absence – first approving and then rejecting the appointment of a new pastor because she was gay. We were incensed, frustrated, and sorely disappointed over the ordeal
November -
• in which we gathered with our (Kiwi) neighbours to celebrate and offer a toast for the American election results
• in which we gathered with our Kiwi neighbours again 4 days later for the New Zealand election results
• in which Megan got hit by a car while riding on her scooter. She survived with a few cracked ribs and some minor scrapes and bruises; her beloved scooter got smashed in the ordeal
• in which Nolan and Erica announced their engagement and upcoming summer wedding
• in which Megan bought another scooter
• in which Curt finished 2 more paintings:








December -
• in which we write our clever Christmas letter

May 18 = Europe Day

When the kids were growing up, we liked to invent holidays: November 1st was Annual Pumpkin Throwing Day (we'd throw the mouldy jack-o-lanterns from the deck into the wheelie bin below). We had Cookie Dough Day (guess whose idea that was) in March, and T-Bone Day in January. April 12th was Titanic Day, in honour of one son's obsession. And May 18th was Europe Day.

Most people from Washington State
(like us) would normally associate the day of May 18th with Mt. St Helens' eruption on May 18, 1980. But our family departed for an six-week trip to Europe on May 18, 1995 and preferred to commemorate that journey. So every May 18th, we would get out the photo album, watch the old home movies, or read the journals we wrote. We'd ooh and aah at Dwaad's sketches, and reminisce about the food, the sights, and the people we had encountered.

This year, I sent the boys a digital photo presentation about Europe Day which you can view by clicking 'PLAY' below.
Happy Memories.

Make a Smilebox slideshow

ANZAC Day, 2008

The choir from Mt. Albert Methodist Church (that's us) sang at the ANZAC service held at Mt. Albert Memorial Hall. We sing there every year. Prime Minister Helen Clark was the main speaker. She gives the speech there every year. It still amazes me how little fanfare there is when the leader of the nation is present at this dinky little community centre: anyone can attend, there's no metal detectors or bag checks or anything, no advance team of bomb-sniffing dogs, no motorcade. She simply arrived in a car with no entourage except 2 secret-service-type guys (who later sang along during the service) and sat in a folding chair, just like everyone else. It's all refreshingly low-key. As it is every year.

At last year's ANZAC service, we wrangled an introduction to Helen, and got to shake her hand and chat with her for a bit. This year, I elected not to impose myself on her, but if I had, I would have asked her about the recent Hillary Clinton gaffe concerning Helen. In an interview with a US magazine, Senator Clinton was telling a joke about the "Former Prime Minister, Helen Clark" ... but in fact Helen Clark is still the CURRENT Prime Minister. There have been plenty of laughs over here in New Zealand about Hillary's mistake, but I doubt if the American press has even realised that she misspoke.

After the service, we went back to the church for more choir practice, but not without a feed. Someone brought homemade ANZAC biscuits (cookies) which were softer and - naturally - better than the storebought ones. ANZAC biscuits, an oatmeal coconut recipe, became the biscuit of choice to mail to the troops during WWI because of their apparent unperishability, hence their name. They are really quite tasty, and an appropriate snack after the service.

Good Friday driveway party

We have great neighbours. And a great neighbourly tradition: Driveway parties. It usually happens when one person is out front doing some yardwork. Then another neighbour will come over and shoot the breeze. Eventually he'll bring a beer out. Soon, a few more neighbours arrive. The beer continues to flow. People arrive with folding camp chairs and before you know it, there are a dozen neighbours settled in the driveway with assorted kids running around. Food starts to appear from various houses and occasionally the BBQ is fired up.

Today, as a driveway party started to materialise, we decided to move to the back yard of the house next door for a farewell. The house next door was on a huge triple lot and it had recently been sold to developers who were splitting it into 3 separate sections and building 2 new houses. We had been sad to see the old neighbours go, and we were even sadder to see the huge grassy play area be eliminated. A farewell to the expanse of land was the perfect excuse for today's party.

We took all our camp chairs and carried heaps of food to the empty yard. Margaret brought yummy salmoncakes in honour of Good Friday. Bruce brought his portable grill. The boys started a cricket game in the grass.
John brought some golf clubs and the testosterone took over as all the men whacked golf balls across the gully. John's 12-year old son was a pretty good golfer, too and even the 4-year-old had a good swing as long as he remembered he was left-handed. Bruce swung so hard that it broke the club and he seemed pretty pleased with himself.

In the middle of this idyllic scene, Brenden leaned over to me to say how grateful he is to have this close-knit neighbourhood group. He grew up in a dodgier neighbourhood, lacking the sense of comfort and comraderie that exudes from our driveway parties. All our neighbours are such good people. Especially Brenden. It brought tears to my eyes.

Christmas: Home Alone

During the holidays this year, I found that I wasn't feeling as melancholy as last year. I knew my mom was arriving in one week, I'd just spent 2 weeks in the US with all the family in November, and Carlin and Kristen had been here for 2 weeks. So I wasn't pining for my family too much, and our holidays turned out to be quite enjoyable:

On Christmas Eve, it was so hot that we eventually decided to go to the neighbourhood beach for a picnic. We lolled on our beach blanket, read books, and ate dinner. There weren't too many people there. The sun was shining, but there was a breeze off the water. It was perfect. Still, it seems surreal to say that we were at the beach on Christmas Eve!

On Christmas Day, we went to church and sang in the choir. The children's sermon was called Chocolate Christmas! This is my kind of church. Our friends at church made sure we had someplace to go for Christmas dinner (we did) and wished us a happy holiday.

At home, Curt and I opened presents. He got me an iPod, which I'd fancied so I could listen to music while I run on the treadmill at school every day after work. The other students in the gym often have a boombox blaring, but let's face it, I'm too old to want to listen to rap or whatever they've chosen. I'm also so old that I spent the rest of the day trying to figure out how to use the darn contraption. It didn't help that the only directions that came in the box were in Chinese. No English. On the plus side, there were a few helpful diagrams ... with Chinese captions. Good Lord. (eventually I found some English instructions on Apple's website)

My present to Curt was a new patio umbrella because ours was broken in 2 places. He spends a LOT of hours on the deck and I thought he should have a better umbrella, but he didn't seem to think there was anything wrong with the current one even though ...
1) The up and down mechanism broke soon after we bought it, and it had to be held in the up position with an army of hose clamps. Hence, it always stayed up.
2) Then there was a windstorm (remember, it was eternally open, so it caught the wind like a sail) which caused it to shear off at the table height. Curt's solution for this was to scour the neighbourhood on the day of the annual Inorganic Rubbish Pick-Up (people can put out old sofas, broken washing machines and piles of junk to be taken to the rubbish tip) until he found a silver pipe that was just the right diameter. It looked like it had been a shower curtain rod in its former life. He attached the ex-shower curtain rod to the what was left of the umbrella pole, and voila! Just like new.
Clearly, Curt has embraced the Kiwi mentality that anything can be fixed with a bit of ingenuity and some Number 8 Wire.
Note: in early January, the old umbrella broke a third time, so he relented and started using his new one instead.

After opening presents - there were only two presents so it didn't take very long - we went to my friend Lucy's house for Christmas dinner. She had graciously invited us to her family gathering, which included her husband and two kids, her mum, her in-laws, and a brother-in-law with his family. We arrived in time for the tail end of family gift exchange, and Lucy's two children proceeded to show me all the terrific presents they'd received.

I also accompanied her two kids as they played Christmas carols on piano, appointing myself in charge of the left hand/bass part. Best of all, Lucy and I played some flute duets. We had only recently discovered that we both played flute and both bemoaned the lack of opportunities to play, so we'd decided that a family Christmas gathering would be the perfect excuse to inflict our mediocre musicianship on others. Luckily, the audience was filled with holiday spirit and generously tolerant of us.

Although the good times and good conversation meant more to me than good food, I must affirm that there were indeed heaps of good food. Lucy's a wonderful cook and an elegant hostess - a Kiwi Martha Stewart. There were 6 dishes and 4 desserts, all exquisitely prepared and presented. I especially feasted on the shortbread cookie sandwiches with strawberries and cream in the middle. Heavenly.

We felt privileged to be included in their family Christmas, and it was the ideal way to celebrate the holiday thanks to Lucy, Grant, Emma, Liam, Oma, and all the Powells.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

POSTSCRIPT:
Because of the International Date Line, my four sons wouldn't be celebrating Christmas in America until the next day. So on December 26 (Auckland time), I called the boys. Boone was the only one at the designated Christmas headquarters (Grandma's house) and he was a bit under the weather, so he was not very talkative. Apparently, he'd had a cold for a few days, but went there for Christmas dinner anyway. After chatting with Boone, I got to talk to my brother a little, too. But I found that I wasn't as stoic as I'd felt yesterday. I was on the verge of tears. Next, I tried calling Nolan (who had already come and gone from Grandma's) but he didn't answer. I tried calling Austin (who was celebrating Christmas in Missouri with Jonna's family) but he didn't answer either. I tried calling Carlin (who was celebrating Christmas in Phoenix with Kristen's family) ... no answer. I left messages. Then I went ahead and cried. Just for a minute.
Remember what I said about not pining for my family? I lied.

Act III : Finale

On Sunday, Carlin and Kristen came to church with us and he played viola for 2 songs - one with the choir and one with just the organist. The choir muddled through their parts due to lack of practice, but the viola part sounded lovely and everybody appreciated him.

After Curt made French Toast (Kristen's favourite) for brunch, we went to the Viva Voce concert, a 24-voice a cappella choir conducted by a man from our church. Curt has sung with this group a few times, whenever they need some extra basses and we always enjoy their performances. This time, their concert was being held at St. Matthew-in-the-city, an elaborate stone cathedral with gorgeous acoustics. The setting was beautiful and the music was exquisite, as always.

When we got home, Carlin and Kristen helped put up the Christmas tree and decorate it. Carlin got to explain to Kristen the story behind the ornaments, and tell her various tales of Christmases over the years. Carlin also read his favourite Christmas picture book to Kristen, "Red Ranger Came Calling," about a boy who asked Santa for a Buck Tweed Two-Speed Crime-Stopper Star-Hopper bike, but instead of a Tweed bike, he got a treed bike. The story ends with a photograph of an actual treed bike - a bike stuck in a tree 50 years ago on Vashon Island in Washington State, and the tree trunk has grown around it - the inspiration for the book. Red Ranger is only one of the many Christmas picture books our family has collected over the years. The other favourite is "The Poky Little Puppy's First Christmas," especially when Austin would read it aloud, using silly voices. Ah, Christmas time. It can evoke such strong memories.

This year, it was only December 2 when we put up the tree, but since we wouldn't have any family here on December 25, we decided to have our little Christmas celebration a bit early. So I got out the Christmas dishes and the Christmas tablecloth and everything. We lit the advent candles and Carlin said a blessing before we ate which (of course) made me cry because they were going to have to leave the next day. After dinner, we opened our presents from each other and they had found us a perfect lawn ornament of a pukeko whom I have since named Nigel. I love pukekos because they have huge feet and walk like they're wearing clown shoes, which I find positively endearing. 

Their last day in NZ was a Monday so Curt and I had to go back to work, while Carlin and Kristen stayed home for a quiet, relaxing time (no sightseeing) and tried to fit everything back into their suitcases. Carlin surprised me by showing up at work for morning tea one last time, which made me cry (of course). What a sweetie. Later that afternoon, Curt and I took Carlin and Kristen to the airport where I finally had to say good bye, and yes, I cried.

Besides being able to spend this time with Carlin, it was especially good for me to share the last 2 weeks with my new daughter-in-law (whom I barely knew before the wedding) because now we had a stronger bond, shared memories, and connections. I never had any reservations about Carlin's choice as his bride because my boys have always had good taste in women and I've always loved their girlfriends. But after having spent some time with them, I'm even more convinced that he picked the right person. Welcome to the family, Kristen!

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.

Mueseum/ Mother's Day

We had another busy weekend with Nolan and Erica. Saturday we went to the Auckland Museum. Sunday was Mother's Day. Then my birthday was 2 days after that. Busy week.

1. We went to the Auckland Museum, a huge building with a brand new dome addition. I always get lost in there. The museum's displays include nature, culture and history, but Erica liked the nature stuff the best (naturally). There were all sorts of plants and animals, including fish. There were also plenty of gross-looking bugs. Nolan liked the wetas the best (naturally). There was even a giant stuffed moa - an ostrich-sized flightless bird that was hunted to extinction once humans arrived. We all liked the Maori display, especially the giant waka (canoe) and the elaborately carved marae (meeting house) that you could walk into (if you take your shoes off first). I liked the historical displays (naturally) about WWI, Gallipoli, and WWII. It was only 2.5 weeks since ANZAC Day, and there were still wreaths on the memorials and red poppies affixed to the marble wall listing lost soldiers' names.

Everyone's favourite, however, was the volcano exhibit. Curt and I are from Washington, the home state of Mt St Helens, so we have a long history with volcanoes. In 1980, we heard the BOOM, even though we were 200 miles away from the big blast. Then from 2001-2005, we had a great view of Mt St Helens out the picture window of our house in Portland where we could watch the mountain every time it decided to wake up and spew some more, which happened every 6-12 months.

In the museum's exhibit, we sat in a fake living room while watching fake news of an impending eruption in Auckland's bay. The news showed people evacuating the city, and experts evaluating the latest seismograph. There was footage of steam coming out of the bay, and then there was a huge KABOOM! The fake living room shook and nearly scared the pants off me. The lights went out and the TV screen went black. Looking out the living room's fake window, you could see the eruption, the destruction, and the ash. It was quite realistic and rather sobering. Auckland is built on 50 volcanic cones, after all.

After getting our thrills at the museum, we went to Devonport for fish and chips, with a slight detour to Devonport Chocolates (naturally). And another detour for crappuccinos (naturally).

2. Sunday was Mother's Day, which (naturally) is not a very big deal around our house because Curt doesn't want to make any holiday a big deal. He doesn't get me a present or a card or anything. (This explains why I was determined to make my 50th birthday a bigger deal by buying tickets to Fiddler on the Roof and by planning a party for myself.) Happily, this year Mother's Day was a little more special than usual because Nolan and Erica were here. I made them come to church because it was Mother's Day. Lots of people wanted to talk with them afterwards. Everyone at church always makes them feel special. That evening, Erica made salmon for dinner and it was excellent (naturally). And they got me a card. Then we watched Heavenly Creatures, which is a great NZ film, but probably not a good choice for Mother's Day because the characters in the movie kill their mother. I just hope Nolan doesn't get any ideas.

ANZAC Day

The Mt Albert Methodist Church choir (that's us) sang at the ANZAC service at the Mt Albert Memorial this morning. There were dawn services all over New Zealand on ANZAC Day, including the largest one in front of the Auckland War Memorial Museum, but Mt Albert's began at a more reasonable time, 9:30 a.m. Since this was one of scores of smaller, local services, I wasn't expecting much. I was wrong.

ANZAC Day is a national holiday to commemorate New Zealand soldiers. The date of April 25 was chosen because that was the day in 1915 when the ANZAC (Australian & New Zealand Army Corps) forces landed on the beach at dawn to begin their campaign to take the Gallipoli peninsula from the Turkish army. (See the red circle in the upper left corner) The invasion was ill-advised and after 9 months of fighting, little ground gained, and over 10,000 men lost, the troops pulled out without a victory.

It feels strange to me for a national holiday to be on the day their army got slaughtered. I'm more accustomed to the rah-rah patriotism of America where we celebrate, magnify, and treasure only victories, and secretly wish our defeats would disappear. On ANZAC Day, however, people don't celebrate the lost battle; they honour the men who bravely went into battle even though everyone knew it was a suicide mission. They honour the way the tiny little country on the other side of the world sent their boys to help the British Empire. They honour the way those boys distinguished themselves and earned respect from Australian and British troops. April 25, 1915 was the day New Zealand was admitted to the Big League, and they proved themselves worthy. ANZAC Day is a solemn day, deserving a solemn service that always ends with the bugler playing Last Post.

In Mt Albert's little Memorial Hall, I was astounded at how many people were in attendance! There were 250-300 people trying to fit into a venue that seats about 150. Luckily, the choir was positioned on the stage so we were assured a seat. Before the service, we had been forced to scrounge a few chairs; we grabbed all the strays we could find, including 3 we took from the podium. Once the service began, the place was packed, and the audience was standing all along the back - 4 rows deep - and more standing outside. There was an abundance of strollers, toddlers, and school children alongside the veterans and older generation. All sorts of local groups were represented: Mt Albert creche (pre-school), 2 local high schools, Girl Guides (Girl Scouts), Mt Albert churches, Mt Albert Senior Centre, Mt Albert Bowling Club, NZ Navy, NZ Air Force, NZ Coast Guard, RSA (the NZ veterans' group is called Returned Services Assoc.) ... and on and on. Each group laid a wreath at the memorial.

The main speaker for the service was none other than Prime Minister Helen Clark, because the Mt Albert neighbourhood is her home electorate. She gave her speech without notes, citing battles and relating history to the New Zealand experience. She's probably given a fair number of ANZAC speeches before. Overall, she's a polished speaker, with an unusually deep voice that carries well and commands attention. There were 3 security men discreetly but obviously lurking about, wearing earpieces and looking shifty. During the service, she sat by the podium, on a chair that someone had fortunately replaced because a certain choir had snatched hers. I can't believe we stole the Prime Minister's chair! It's a wonder we didn't get arrested by the guys in suits.

After the service, everyone got a cup of tea, including Helen Clark. She was chatting with various people while her security hovered nearby. At one point, Officer #1 spoke into his sleeve to tell something to Officer #2, who looked back at #1 from across the hall with a puzzled look, a shrug, and some pointing at his ear, indicating that his earpiece wasn't working and he couldn't hear a single word that Officer #1 had said. Ha.

Shamelessly - utterly shamelessly! - I asked one of our choir friends to introduce us to Helen Clark, since I knew that they were long-time acquaintances. He readily agreed, and ushered us over and introduced us as his American friends who moved to NZ. She shook our hands and asked where we were from in America, so we described our locations in Washington State & Oregon. We mentioned that Auckland looks a lot like Seattle - waterfront, ferries, Sky Tower. She agreed, but said she'd just been in Seattle in March and it was dreadful, rainy weather. We all agreed that the weather was much better here in NZ! After a bit more chit chat, we moved along and let others talk to her.

Next, we headed back to the church for a pancake breakfast put on annually by 2 members of the church. Brian, the choir accompanist, played old war songs like A Long Way to Tipperary while we all sang along, even though I hadn't heard of any of the other songs. But it was a fun way to spend the morning. And yummy.

Well, that was my brush with fame here in NZ. My choir friends kept asking if I had a good talk with my friend Helen, and were teasing me about never washing my hand again, now that I had shaken hands with the Prime Minister. I know it was brazen of me to ask Merv to introduce us, but I thought it was pretty cool to meet her nonetheless.

Road Trip, Day 3 - Easter Sunday

We spent Easter morning swimming with dolphins, which seemed appropriate somehow.

First, we were issued a wetsuit. The young man who was distributing them handed me a size 10. I was flattered that he thought I was size 10, but I haven't worn that size for decades! I tried to put it on. I tugged and yanked, but it was simply too tight. Obviously there was not going to be an Easter miracle for me this morning. I faced reality and exchanged my wetsuit for a bigger one. After a short film on dolphins and how to behave around them, a short boat ride to find the pod, and a quick snorkelling lesson for beginners like me, we jumped in. Curt had elected to stay on the boat and take pictures while Nolan, Erica and I wanted to swim. (Only 13 people are allowed in the water, out of respect for the dolphins. But more can come along and watch.)

The water was C O L D! We had been told to keep our hands at our sides (to try to look more like a dolphin), and to hum! Apparently, the dolphins are attracted to noises. Sure enough, they were all around us, whizzing by and circling around. It was pretty spectacular to have them beside me and under me. Weirdly, there were also millions of translucent jelly creatures all over, which was probably why the dolphins like this harbour so much, but I found it a little creepy. I also tended to breathe so hard that I was nearly hyperventilating, which is apparently quite common when learning to snorkel. Overall, it wore me out. I was exhausted after about 5-10 minutes.

Meanwhile, the dolphins had raced away; it was time to get all the swimmers back on the boat so we could reposition and swim again. I appreciated having a little time to rest on the boat while it sped after the dolphins. Then we were back in the water again. We repeated this process a number of times. Nolan and Erica had been having good success. Erica said one of the dolphins was circling around and playing with her. The dolphins are so fast, however, that it's impossible for any of us keep up with them! I sat out the last few swims due to exhaustion. I was definitely knackered (as they say in NZ). But it was still fun to stand on the boat and watch the dolphins splashing around with the other swimmers. Once everyone got back on board for the last time, the boat continued to follow the dolphins so we could take lots of pictures, and they served hot chocolate. Meanwhile, we all got dressed in our dry clothes, which felt really good. If only I had some warm shoes for my frozen feet. Alas, all I had was sandals. (Remember, my shoes were still sitting by the kitchen door at my house, 500 km away)

By this time I was starting to feel a little queasy - as were a few others - which may have been partly why I quit swimming early. I even decided to skip the hot chocolate. Imagine me saying no to chocolate! As time went on, the queasy factor kept growing, and I decided to position myself near a bucket ... just in case. Nolan and Erica were starting to feel queasy, too, but not as bad as me. Sure enough, about 10 minutes before we got back to the dock, I chundered in the bucket. It was not my finest moment.

Once we got back on land, I felt much better. But the thought of getting in the car and going on a winding coastal road for the next 3.5 hours didn't sound too pleasant. I decided I'd be better off driving than being a passenger. I drove real sloooww and real smooooth. It was scenic but it seemed to take a looong time. It must have been boooring, too, for Curt and Nolan promptly fell asleep.We got to Christchurch about 3:30 - see #3 on the map - and we didn't get lost on the way to the hotel (that's twice in a row). The B&B we stayed at was ideal - central location, friendly hosts, free internet, tasty breakfast, tea & cookies every evening, and a fat little dachshund who begged for scraps from the table. They even had a dumbwaiter that took all the luggage to the 2nd floor. We loved this place.

Curt went running in the nearby park while Nolan and Erica and I went to the Arts Centre complex. We walked through the market and some workshops and galleries, including one that had some black pottery just like our bomb collection! (see the 30 Dec. blog "Sydney - Day 6" for an explanation of our non-explosive bomb collection) Fortuitously, we ran into Curt who had finished running and was now walking towards us with a crappuccino in hand. I immediately escorted him back to the pottery shop and we selected a chalice-shaped piece. Excellent.

Next, Curt and I walked downtown to the cathedral and sat down for their Evensong service. This is Easter, after all. They had a wonderful boys' choir performing. But Curt still feels uncomfortable with all the bells and smells that the Anglican Church has. We like our little Methodist congregation back in Auckland better.
Then we met Nolan and Erica at a brewpub for dinner and we all ate too much again. During dinner, we discussed our ambitious travel plans for the next 7 days and we all agreed that we didn't want to drive 9 hours to the next city (#4 on the map). We'd rather skip that destination (Queenstown), slow our pace a bit and relax more. I think the relatively short drive today along narrow windy roads - not to mention the queasiness from the dolphin experience - showed us how unpleasant a long drive would be.

I'd never truly appreciated America's highway infrastructure until now. In truth, I'd seen it listed as one of America's greatest achievements of the 20th century and dismissed it as a strange, obscure selection for a list of what makes America great. Now, I'm a believer. I can't begin to imagine how much America's highway system has contributed to the growth of the economy. Quick, easy distribution of goods equals lower prices and America is exceptionally good at that. Besides the economic impact, the highway system allowed Americans to be a more mobile population. I always loved road trips and even admit I have a certain appreciation for low-brow highway culture - the crowded rest areas, the sleazy gas station, the tacky tourist sights. I also found great satisfaction in the orderliness of the the numbering system of the mile markers and the exits, in addition to the numbering system for naming the highways themselves: interstate highways that run north-south are odd numbers (starting on the west coast), highways that run east-west are even numbered (starting on the southern border). Yup, I'm a road trip junkie.

But what we discovered over the last 3 days was that road trips in New Zealand would be fundamentally different. We wanted less road and more trip. After making the decision to eliminate Queenstown from our itinerary, we finished off the evening by playing another game of Hearts back at the B&B. Curt won again. Nolan and Erica aren't going to want to play with him much longer if he keeps whooping their sorry butts.

PS - There were NO Adventures today. We were quite pleased with ourselves.

PPS - I called Austin on his birthday tonight. It was 2:00 a.m. in Bellingham, but he was still up. We had a long talk. I miss him.