Postcards from New Zealand

last night nat and i slept at the bach. the bach is on alvin's property, about 3 lots down from the torkington manse. alvin built the bach in about 1950 at the request of his mother. originally, she just asked for a storage shed, but once he'd finished that she asked if maybe couldn't he make it so people could sleep in it?

the bach is on a nice, large lot with a big grassy area and another area covered by native trees. there are also some fruit trees, apple, peach, passion fruit. this is primarily where millenium.bob will be located.

the bach has two rooms, running water, electricity, but no toilet. the first room has a little kitchenette with the tiniest electric stove you've ever seen, a small fridge (currently unplugged), a dining table and chairs, and a flat bench that can serve as both couch or bed. lining the walls are bookshelves, filled with just about anything you might want to read. alvin is a book fiend. you wouldn't believe his house in aukland.

the second room is a small bedroom with two single beds (currently pushed together), a dresser, and a closet. the bach as a whole is rustic and quaint.

this morning i woke up and just outside the window of the bach where two tiny cottontail bunnies. it was a gorgeous bright morning, so before heading up to the house we took a walk down to the wharf, then walked along the dirt track to nellie's point.

later, momma and mum and i went to the honey centre for HONEY ON A STICK. every bit as good as maple sugar on a stick, and it comes in a MULTITUDE of flavors. i bet you can't WAIT, can you?

grandma had an appointment at the doctor's on monday. as you know, she's been very ill, and everyone has been fearing the worst. all of her children came with her, as did her husband of 60 years. anxiously, they stood around waiting for the results of the various scans and tests.

"from what i can see, your cancer hasn't progressed any. the pain must be from something else," said the doctor.

"right then!" proclaims grandma, "it must be all in my head. come on, ted, let's go canoeing!"

or something to that effect. much rejoicing ensued, it's been a party pretty much ever since.

and there you were thinking i'd given up and gone away, huh? wrong! i'm BACK. we've been on a little roadtrip.

today, i went fishing. i've never been fishing before. we got back around 3:00 this afternoon, and it's just a beautiful beautiful day, so as soon as we got back, barry and i headed out for the Foam, barry's fishing boat.

sit on the front of the boat, sit on the back of the boat, hang off the side of the boat dragging feet in the clear, cool, wondrous water.

so i'm hanging off the side of the boat and trying to figure out how i can jump off and swim for a while and get back on the boat since a) we're out in the deep water and 2) there's no ladder. add to that that i am slow, uncoordinated, and weak, and it's a bit of a problem. i think i've got it figured out, but there is the possibility i'll break the boat in the process so i decide not to try it out without asking first. in the meantime, i hook my hands in the railing and just dangle myself off the edge so at least my feet are in the water. not good enough, really, that water was so tempting.

it's about this time that barry looks back and notices i'm not sitting at the back of the boat anymore. looking forward, he can't see me out the windows, either. he rushes to the back and pokes his head around the corner. "oh GOOD. you're still on the boat. i thought i'd lost you for a minute."

my first shot at fishing, something big grabbed the line then got right away, taking the lure with it. second time i caught a kahuwai, about 8 inches long. no luck on the third try. we'll try again tomorrow. but that was one tasty fish.

when we got back to our mooring i jumped in the water and towed the dinghy back to shore, alternating with being towed by barry while he rowed. i definitely need to spend more time in the water.

i am ever so slowly being toasted a nice, uniform brown. i liken myself to a marshamallow, held just the right distance above the campfire flame, being turned and turned until it's that beautiful golden brown all over, and then just a hot, sticky, sweet delight.

this analogy works nicely with the fact that being in the sun here at all is dangerous, and like that marshamallow, you can get too close to the flame and end up a crispy, charred mess.

so far, i've avoided that. this is probably more a result of not being outdoors much, and it being overcast most of the time, rather than my clever and responsible use of sunscreen and hats. but i'm going to stick with the latter story and see if anyone buys it.

the new zealand sun is BRUTAL. when it is out, it takes 15 minutes to turn your average white person pink. i've been getting 10 minutes exposure at a time to overcast skies, and still, i've been browning really fast. something to think about when you come out.

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Copyright: Almost everything in here is © Jenine Abarbanel(1997) unless attributed to someone else or inadvertantly stolen from someone else, in which case, it's their copyright. Don't be a jerk.