And it’s Back to The Colonies

Summer. Summer in The Colonies. Foreigners strolling, cycling. Germans, West-Islanders (Australum / Australis? It’s off the Orkies coast) even Canadians. Gawd knows how they get through Customs. I have swum in the creek. Lying in the lazy sun I read The Search for the Perfect Language (U. Eco) ~ well, bronzing my Adonis self actually in preparation for sister Hilary’s visit. I mow the lawns. Cheerfully. Using a hand mower (organic mower). Long warm days, slow sunsets. Mornings bristling with Pohutukawa

I have produced my last newsletter for the year. Taken part in about six music groups, the last our carol singing outside the old St James Church. Took me back to my childhood. Yes, six days a week Presbyterians sing the Devils music, Sundays us Pagans join them to sing carols. Thames is small, carol singers play petanque, attend Heritage meetings and chatter at our Probus committee and write poetry. Next year I’m lined up to be president, some dismay at my dropping the newsletter. In fact the year has had its stress. While I enjoy what I do it all happens in too short a space of time

Mag’s final day at work today and the staff quite upset. A grand morning tea, and Mag of course put in extra hours to leave all ship shape. God help cataloguing. She has mixed feelings, thirty eight years now the exhaustion of Christmas. Planting herself in the garden provides rewards all round.

We had a recent spontaneous water feature in Shanty Town. A combination of my not checking the shower drain and possibly Andy’s ‘wrestling in mud’ post-match shower. Naturally the poor girl denies this. Yes, all students have to earn money, I have clear, nay, hazy, memories of hawking my own young body about the more select public bars and gambling dens – I got a bite too. Remind me Jen, to show you my bite mark when you get back.

Yes a water feature in Shanty Town. Droplets droppleting from the downstairs light fittings. Seen one drop you’ve seen ‘em all. Like last time, flick a light switch and you’re outlined in blue. This time there was Bill. Your lay-about son. I drive from Thames to do ‘fixing’ wearing my fix-the-bloody-plumbing clothing and lugging a suction cup with a hearty piece of fencing wire. I’m in a harry.
Scene l: your son starts chirruping from our bedroom. Wants to unravel his thoughts. Scene ll: One hand clutching suction cup and the wire, other hand ends up as a pillow while he purrs his whiskery head off, me in my fix-the-bloody-plumbing clothing. Scene ll does go on a bit.


Photos: Robby Duncan is waxing anxious over the progress in his Christmas shopping, Minnie finds Coro just plain boring. Both are growing, good mates and people chuckle as we meander our morning walks. Minnie does an excellent Tasmanian Devil stance when new cats forget the introductory formalities.

An entourage, a visit, to my ‘dancing’ sister Monique, with daughter Margaret, Isabella, Jessica and Benjamin. ‘Aunty’ arranged Very Special Clothes across the furniture. We talked of elegance and hopes of an ungiggling fashion parade. Aunty and Poppa retired, waiting, waiting, and talked of when we too were small, and we hid under the bed saying dirty words where our mother couldn’t hear us. Now I present to you Italian models –Isabella and Jessica (Baby Benjamin snored).
Jen you know that pout when I, with my faster male brain, scoop the last muffin, we could work on that. Not the muffin, the pout. A future for you Jen. Stock and station agents need a front woman. A model. Farmers’ raincoats, hats, gumboots driving tractors, standing in the friggin rain drenching. I could be your agent. What tiger has done for the ‘off the course’ industry you could do for the ‘in the field’. Forget the pyramids – all so last year – pyramid selling my girl!

Today my best ever bread. Wholemeal / white flour & sun flower seeds. Nearly blew a main bearing needing it. Light and airy. Fresh, hot, excellent with Mag’s recent plum jam (from trees out the front). Breakfast these sun bright mornings are on our front porch. Locals saunter by, cats play, I lick the jam from my fingers, summer in The Colonies

.d

Whew

The time has rushed by so quickly I've hardly seen it pass. My apologies for the tardiness of this post. It's close to the time I leave for Edmonton - I fly out on Wednesday morning, early. The picture above is one of the first snow storm of the season. The snow can be seen flying past the trees. It didn't dump too much, and most of it is now gone, but it's still snow. Mom has said that they have tons of snow out west and that the temperatures are generally in high minus 20's, with wind chills of -40C. Can't wait.

So, what's been happening? Not much, really, except life. I try to go in to the university library, Robarts, as often as I can, but generally it's only about 3 times a week. I'm distressed at the amount of work that hasn't got done, which isn't conducive to doing more, oddly enough. I stress about it without settling in. I will have an article done by the time I leave, and a book review, so those are something, anyway.


I've kept up with revisiting old Toronto haunts, which is marvellous. I've eaten at most of my favourite restaurants more than once - Saigon Palace, with no. 34 (noodles, with BBQ pork and a Vietnamese egg roll), Swiss Chalet (quarter chicken dinner with baked potato - despite the name, completely Canadian), Country Kitchen (Hungarian wiener schnitzel with cucumber salad and mashed potatoes)... Oh my. AND I've found a fantastic second-hand bookstore that has provided me with a book I've looked for for over 20 years ($20, and online, it's as much as $650...really). And then there's Book City, which is perhaps one of my favourite bookstores in the world. It just feels good. Kind of like Timeout, in Mt Eden. I've been to several movies. I've met up with old friends and just hung out, gone for coffee. I've been to a conference at the Royal Ontario Museum (another great book score found there). I've felt like a grad student again, just researching and following every intellectual alleyway that took my fancy. I've helped Carrie selling at her shows when she couldn't be there. I've looked after the kids. I've made jewellery and a voodoo doll at craft days we have here in the house. I've met Carrie's friends, who are wonderful, funny women - they'd fit in perfectly in Book Club.


I've done a lot of stuff, and now I'm ready to go see Dad and Hilary over Christmas and New Year's, then Mum for a couple of days after that, back here, where I'll go visit friends in Welland on the Bruce Peninsula of the Great Lakes, and then another weekend, visit Montréal to visit family. I'll be sending packages to the department, of books, stuffed toys, dvds and cds, clothes, .... It's time to settle down. I really miss New Zealand. I'll be happy to come home and get back to my life again. It really does feel like I've had an enormous time-out, though, and I love the warmth and company of my family, and it's felt like I've been wearing an enormous comforting blanket, just what I've needed, I think. Every time I wish I had more downtime, more silence, more space, I remind myself how much I'll miss it when I'm back home, and something in me settles down and enjoys the chaos and the noise and the energy and being woken by the kids laughing in the morning and the spontaneous hugs and the pictures the kids draw for me and the great discussions and conversations we grown-ups have. I'm squirreling away tactile and emotional memories for later.

I hope you both have a great Christmas and New Year's Eve. I will do my best to write in this again before then, so perhaps I should send the best wishes of the season, without being specific. Take good care, the both of you. I'm looking very forward to seeing you both again.