The big old conservatory-style greenhouse at the Christchurch Botanical Gardens is re-opened, after three and a half years closure post earthquakes. We opened the door and a wall of humid warm air smelling like moss and soil ballooned out to meet us, alive with the promise of rampant growth and profuse greenery. Umm, just right. Brings me back to my Cornell conservatory days.

To my surprise and delight, Milo was almost as excited about the new place to explore as me. We never did identify the source of this giant trumpet flower, but it was sitting conveniently by the footpath and we enjoyed it.

I think I know plant families pretty well until I get anywhere near the tropics. The humbling reality is that there are hundreds of plant families (thousands of plants) that I’ve never even heard of.

The conservatory must have been heated even during the winters when it was closed, because those big philodendrons and bougainvillea weren’t put there any time recently. A bunch of the other plants are potted newcomers though, and I’ll be curious to see if it remains a neat and orderly coordinated display or if it goes the way of jungles and becomes…well…a jungle.  Ooh, lots of greenhouse visits in our future!

“Yeah, I’m cool.” Milo’s all kitted out in his new boots, new spider man sunglasses, and way-oversized walking pole. It was a beautiful Canterbury winter day. Sunny, 10 degrees C (50 F), and relatively still, so we did what we usually do under the circumstances–head out hiking.

I seriously didn’t expect Milo to walk very far, considering the whinge level we endure just to get to the neighborhood playground. But he was in the zone today. In the end he climbed up most of the way on his own two feet, energized by M&M’s and “purple mountain muscle” aka Jeremiah’s Clif shots.  That’s lake Coleridge in the background.

Happy kid! He was in the lead at this juncture.

Aw, family mug shot. Naomi is actually there, she’s sleeping on my back. Sitting up at the top munching sandwiches and gazing at the snow-crusted peaks I realized that there’s no where in New England where you can get so remote so fast. Peak Hill is an easy hike an hour and a half out of Christchurch, and on the most gorgeous weekend hiking day we saw only three other groups.

Peak hill was once an island in a sea of glacier ice. Now the braided rivers (they strike me as tangled more than braided) fill those valleys.

Yup, this is what parents like to see. The puppy got enough exercise.

I think it’s inevitable; every parent wants their kid to be like them. Or at least like the same things they like. That’s why I’m working on giving Milo a love of insects. While we were on a walk in Lancaster we saw this big mama parasitic wasp laying her eggs deep inside the maple tree, presumably into a larvae of some sort, judging from the exit holes in the trunk. It looked like a lot of work. She had three tubes pushed inside there, and was straining with the effort. I later looked it up and she is a huge ichneumonid wasp, probably after a woodwasp larvae which she found using her antennae to sense its vibrations deep in the tree. She drills a whole through solid wood, then lays her egg inside the other larvae (still living), and her baby eats the other from the inside out. Amazing. Gruesome. And Jeremiah is completely uninterested. I don’t get it!

I also like skunks. And porcupines. Slow, defensible creatures that never hurry and no one bothers to eat. A skunk was trying to take up residence under Omi’s house while we were there, and she was combating it by filling its hole with moth balls. We did a lot of talking about “melling dunks,” as Milo says. He can’t pronounce “s” followed by a consonant.  We “melled” it in the basement, “melled” it in the yard, and “melled” other ones while out driving.  One night we even saw it eating bird seed under the neighbor’s feeder.

Chocolate donuts with sprinkles. I USED to like these things, but this time the pleasure wasn’t as pure as I remember. I must be getting fussy in my old age.

Our trip back to the US was all about family. The main disadvantage of living in NZ is not the lack of retail shopping or the lousy housing options; it’s the distance from family. So here we are, soaking up the relatives.

Ah yes, Omi and Abi grinning with the baby at the Indiana Dunes.

Omi and Abi live just around the corner from Omi’s parents, so we dropped by regularly to shoot the breeze with the Great Grands.

Bubbles! Grandma sits by enjoying the noisy action.

A weekend trip to Lancaster PA gave us a chance to see another set of Great Grands, Mommom and Poppop (Abi’s parents). Poppop’s health has been precarious this past year, and I particularly wanted to bring the kids for them to meet. They have been a huge wonderful influence in our lives. Here’s a tribute to godly loving grandparents, and the tremendous blessing they are.

Naomi’s happy to sit with other people so long as Mommy isn’t within view….so here I am hiding while Mommom gives her a cuddle.

It’s pretty rare that all four of us sisters are in the same place at the same time. This time it happened in Lancaster PA where we all joined up to see Mommom and Poppop. Left to right: Kelsey, Susanna, Molly (Naomi), Rebecca.

Our cousin Bethany came up for the weekend too, meaning all the granddaughters had congregated. She’s self-reportedly no cook, but she can flip grilled veggies….just don’t ask her to shuck the corn!

Moriah joined us, Jeremiah’s youngest sister, rounding out the entourage of girls (well ok, I guess we’re all women now), and sharing the photos of her new wedding dress as well as the latest family news.

Back in Chicago, Rebecca good-naturedly provides the bottom layer of the kid sandwich. Her appetite for play almost never ran out, and she had scoped out all the playgrounds in a 5 mile radius before we arrived.

“I Winned!” Aunt Becky crows….or at least “I got the ball in!” Mini golf with Milo was a hoot, bringing back memories of Cape Cod fun as kids.

Here’s Omi in her element. I admittedly haven’t got much patience for kids’ shenanigans when it comes to bed time. I want to put them down in their bed, sing them one song, and exit. No last drinks of water. No prolonged bedtime stories. No whinging. Needless to say that takes a bit of training, and we haven’t gotten Naomi up to speed yet. Omi became the appointed bedtime walker, dosing her with a soporific combination of song and rhythm that even Naomi couldn’t resist.

Milo likes trains, and so does Abi. Fortunately, the house is just one row back from the busy train lines. Whenever the railroad crossing bell dinged Milo shouted “Train!” and hustled his favorite train vantage point. He liked to try and distinguish the roar of a commuter from the rattle of a freight train.  In a boy’s world you can never have too many trains, so they both enjoyed the elaborate model at the Chicago museum of Science and Technology.

Yes family, we love you!

America is Large. Big land, big cities, big houses, big coffees. We indulged in 99 cent Dunkin Donut coffees a few times….a gallon of coffee for $4. Until we lived in a small country, I hadn’t thought of the USA as particularly large, but it is.

Oh yes, and big cars. Full sized pick up trucks galore, and parking lots chocked full of these generously proportioned SUV’s — the Mama Cars in prosperous American suburbia.

Suburban Chicago looks like an arboretum. I’m not sure exactly why big trees are scorned in Christchurch, but the open grassy lawns and spreading limbs make for a pleasant shady neighborhood here. The absence of fences feels friendly.

The broad leaf forest feels friendly too. Wide fluttery leaves and sun dapples.  Despite the greater Chicago metropolitan area hosting 12 million people (the whole of NZ has 4 million), there seems to still be enough space for trees and forest preserves. 

We’re missing oak in this hardwood medley, but we have lots of maples, walnut, and black locust.

Cat tails aren’t particularly large, but they’re a friendly north American plant I was glad to see again.  If you had asked me a year ago to describe suburban Chicago summer I would not have said “Green,” but that’s my impression on this visit.  Green except for the poor ash trees, skeletons now that the emerald ash borer has established its residence. 

We’re deep in kid zone here at Omi and Abi’s house. Daily schedule: Wake up too early. Eat three breakfasts. Go on a balance-bike ride around the neighborhood. Visit a playground. Lunch. Nap. Swim in the backyard kiddy pool. Before we arrived Aunt Becky scoped out all the playgrounds in the vicinity. And this is suburban Chicago. There are a LOT of them.

Aunt Becky’s appetite for playground tag is insatiable–lucky Milo!

Naomi’s getting more coordinated by the day. Rapid crawling, standing, cruising along chairs and knees on wiggly legs, attempting reckless climbing.

There are little spray parks dotted around neighborhoods, spots where the city has colorful sprinklers and fountains expressly for kids.

Water umbrella!