Wellington Harbour

The harbour today. Just 5 min ago.

Hutt Valley Hills

This pic is sideways and bad quality, but trust me... It is beautiful.

Mobile Pics III

Here's the big Xmas decor item in NZ. Note the sun shine... It was hot.

Another batch of phone cam pics.

The Right to bear Shoes

I have to confess I was at first highly amused at the Iraqi reporter winging a shoe at President Bush.  But as I pondered more about why he threw that shoe, I realized I was proud of that Iraqi.  Here is a man whose culture and country have been attacked.  He likely has friends or even family who have been hurt or killed.  He was given an invite to this press conference.  He knew he would be in the same room with President Bush.  *But* instead of lethal violence, he screamed his protest and threw his shoes at him.  He yelled for thousands of dead Iraqis as a result of this war. 

We could easily claim that perhaps Saddam was worse.  But that does not absolve Bush from the deaths of so many.  Bush commanded thousands to their deaths.  Maybe it was for the greater good.  Maybe it wasn’t.  They are still dead.  This Iraqi was angry.  He was outraged.  He voiced his frustration in the strongest message he could craft.  Whether he is right or wrong, he was one of the bravest men I have ever seen.

I hope they let him go.  No one was hurt.  What a message that would be!  I would begin to believe that Iraq could indeed become a free democracy if one of their loyal citizens could voice such criticism in the face of “the most powerful leader in the world.”  I hope he goes to the US.  I hope they put him on Letterman and the The Tonight Show.  There may not be a finer example of American freedom than this Iraqi.

So this is Christmas

This Christmas season seems more full of worry than Christmas Past.  I have little to give in the traditional sense.  No snow, no Christmas Tree, and no decorations.  Yet still I am excited.  I have ahead of me so much time to spend with Amy and Gabe.  I will be able to write and call Chandler and Sabrina.  I will have several days to just enjoy walking and breathing.  I have no grand plans.  We may pack some sandwiches and just go drive around.  I bet we indulge in a few cookies.  But life will be pleasingly slow.

Today I have been trying to figure out emergency budgeting.  The numbers don’t look all that good.  But then I started getting little signs from the universe.  My friend Neal left a present for me on my desk.  Co-workers have sent messages of support.  While out for a quick break-time walk, a friend bought me a sausage just because.  It is Christmas time, even in New Zealand.  None of these folks would know anything about my worries.  I wish I could do more.  I just hope I can do enough.

Everyone stay healthy out there.  Enjoy some sappy movies on the couch with your family.  Eat something freshly baked out of the oven.  Kiwi’s will be grilling sausages and picnicking on the beaches.  To all our friends back home, we’re thinking of you.  Merry Christmas to everyone and a Happy New Year! 

Christmas 2008 BBQ with Stu

For some reason I was featured in most of the food shots.

Our department from Wellington had a Christmas cookout.

Kiwi Christmas and the arrival of Angus

 

So it’s Christmas time in New Zealand.  It is very weird.  It is coming full on in to Summer complete with shorts, flip-flops and beach BBQ’s.  The malls are all decorated with pine wreathes and Christmas bulbs, but it all has a very “Christmas in July” feel to it.  I can not help but feel like I’m in an old mall that just hasn’t taken down its decorations yet.

Last weekend we attended a Christmas festival in Avalon Park in Lower Hutt, not too far from our home.  We only knew it was a Christmas thing with some fireworks at the end.  We went with our friends Aaron & Lisa and their kids Sam, Emma, and Sophie.  Sophie could be a dead ringer for Cindy Loo Whoo who is just more than two.

It was a bit of a walk through the park to get to the festival proper where we discovered the festival was really more of a concert in the park.  It was awesome! They had blues, rocking Christmas carols, the Funky Monkey’s (kids performers), and hip hop dancers.  We had two stars from “NZ has Talent” perform and The Beat Girls did a rocking segment on great 60’s music complete with shimmering flapper dresses.  We even had an opera singer from Auss join in on O Holy Night.  It was fantastic.  The fireworks at the end were great, but combined with Feliz Navidad it was an amazing Christmas celebration.  Totally unlike any other Christmas party I’ve ever experienced--all for free and each moment a surprise.

The next exciting thing to happen was the arrival of Angus—a new black/brown long hair cat.  For the whole year we have been here, we have struggled with making a responsible pet decision.  We loved our Lucy sooo much and missed her when we moved, but we knew we couldn’t replace her just be getting another cat.  We also were not sure how a pet might affect our travel ability.  But after a year, we felt we could make room for a pet.

Times are bit tight right now and I have struggled to come up with good Christmas “gifts” for the family.  A cat would be quite special, but any new cat would come with several hundred dollars of expenses for shots, de-sexing, supplies, etc.  But Amy found several listings on our trade site, TradeMe, for free cats.  I know “free ain’t free” when it comes to kittens, but Angus was full grown and his owner was including all his stuff, 3 months of food, and 2 kitty beds.  We thought we should check him out.

.

     Angus is the much loved cat of a Kiwi family.  He is 12 years old.  The woman who owned him, Moira, had been married to an American.  She was moving to Scottland basically to travel and see long lost family.  Her son’s were in Auss or unable to care for him so she had to give him away.  We felt immediately that it was exactly the situation we faced in the US.  We couldn’t take our Lucy with us.  It was mandatory that we found her a great home.  We knew exactly what Moira was going through and we knew we could be a great home for Angus.

He arrived Monday night.  Amy is over the moon to have a purring kitty to sleep with again.  He has adjusted extremely well.  He even flopped on the floor with us last night.  He seems ready to make himself at home.

Amy says that a house isn’t a home until it has a cat in it.  Welcome Home, Angus! Merry Christmas everyone!

 

 

The Little Boy who Loves the Red Train

Nearly everyday I see a little boy about 3 or 4 with his mother getting on the morning train in to Wellington.  At 7:40 AM he is full of energy while his poor mom tries to keep up.  She is a young mother and sometimes I think she just doesn’t know what to do with this little man in her life.  She carries two large bags—one for him and one for her.  She’s tired and I think a little self conscious of the small child who likes to run around the station making car noises.

At this particular time in morning, Wellington’s older train comes to our station.  Most of these cars are from the 1950’s or 60’s.  They have old electric lights (the kind with real bulbs and not fluorescents), decorative metal vent covers, and those seats that flip direction so the rider can always face front on a train that can go either direction.  Wellington has a pretty large fleet of these aging carriages.  But it has precious few red carriages.  These are the original trains of the metro line.  The old “Cyclops” carriages and they are kept their original fire engine red colour.  The train may have only 3 of these carriages in a line of 12 cars for the morning rush.  They end up clustered together usually in the middle or the back of the train.

The little boy loves these red carriages like Christmas.  I think it might actually be that strong a love.  He runs in circles when he sees the red cars at the end of the line yelling “Yay! Yah! Red carriage!”  No matter how large the crowd is in the morning, he must be the first to leap on board.  He never waits for help even though the step over the gap is just large enough to make my parent instincts cringe.  Mum often waits at the back to get on.  But most days there are no red carriages or, even worse, they are at the front.  Tired mom isn’t going to run to the front where they would both end up standing for the ride around the harbour.  Oh the terrible tiny outrage on these days.  He yells at the train and gives it copious rassberries—and those are the good days.  On bad days he’ll refuse to board or simply wail forcing tired mom to drag him screaming aboard.  I’m sure she feels terrible.

Some day I will tell her that I don’t mind—that her little boy is wonderful.  Days will roll by in to years and all too soon there will be no more leaps of joy at the red train.  After a few more years, she will even miss the tantrums.  I may see if I can find a toy red carriage.  I hope she doesn’t mind.  I hope she doesn’t find it strange that I might have watery eyes laughing at the little boy that loves the red train.