Milo and William, roaring and brandishing their weapon-sticks, made sure no dinosaurs would take us by surprise.

Naomi has her stick too, of course! Framed in an ornamented bridge in the Korean garden, she’s ready to scare away her own herd of dinosaurs, or fall into the stream beneath, whichever happens to come first.

Who knew sheep poop was a collectible?
I suppose to a baby it makes sense. It’s alluringly round, it comes in neat little piles, and God knows it’s plentiful enough in New Zealand.
“Come on Naomi, here’s another clump.” Emma thought Naomi’s fetish with dried poo was pretty funny, and I made a mental note to empty her pockets before I washed her pretty little denim jumper.

It’s been a long time coming, but it feels like winter now. How fascinating that the ice crystals form on the leaf margins, giving them furry little halos.  I wish I had a more suitable camera for capturing the frost fairy’s handiwork.  We just passed the shortest day here, but that would be about the equivalent of December 21 at home….the end of winter isn’t even in view.  

Even with a chilly start to the day, it always rises above freezing. In the sun, it can be downright nice. Good thistle whacking weather.  I was skipping around feeling pretty cheeky about winter so far–but then I realized that winter hadn’t actually begun.  There’s a finance guy at work who wears pin-striped shirts and pointy shoes, but he doesn’t even have a heat pump in his house.  “Heat pumps” are the kiwi answer to central heat–a machine that heats at least one central room.  He’s the driver of a BMW with heated seats, you’d think he would install in-home heating, but no.  It’s a mentality, not a lack of resources. 

We don’t normally sleep with full winter garb, even in our chilly NZ winter house. Naomi fell asleep on the way back from a playground morning, and I figured the extra layers wouldn’t hurt.  It will buffer her from the startling cold when she awakes.  

Castle Hill is one of those places we seem to visit again and again. Only a bit over and hour from Christchurch, it’s a giant child’s playground and easily accessible from the main road. These photos are from the weekend Jeremiah was hunting, and I took the kids to met our friends the Summerfields for a play day among the rocks.

“I can squeeze in there….as long as you go first, Mom.”

Naomi was delighted to climb and crawl her way thorough this little tunnel cave. Milo’s pretty self-sufficient on the rocks, but Naomi is still a hazard, unconcerned about running full tilt down a steep rock slope, uninhibited by Mommy’s visions of little bodies pitching head first down slopes, shedding teeth on the rocks.

There’s a natural slide washed into this rock, unfortunately not smooth enough to get up any speed. The kids spent a lot of time finding ice chunks in rock puddles and doing what kids do with ice–cradling it lovingly if you’re a Summerfield girl, smashing it to smithereens if you are Milo. He has become quite adept at getting a rise from the girls, and the advice my own father gave me in such situations (“don’t squawk, it’s exactly what he wants”) is just as incomprehensible for them as it was for me.

The two youngest Summerfields, Amelie and Ella.

Look there, Naomi could be Ian’s forth little girl.  There were a ton of people out that day, from rock climbers to tourists to families like us.  If you come visit us, we’ll take you to Castle Hill too.

It’s been a year since we took a family backpacking trip–the last time we could manage to carry all our gear and two children on four parental legs. This past Saturday we did a test walk, a day walk up the Kaituna Valley track to Packhorse hut. Six legs in gear this time–Milo walked the whole way. Results are promising. It was only 2.5 kilometers to the hut, but steep in sections.

Milo was starting to flag and M&M energy was being doled out every third trail marker when he discovered his Echo. “Go A-Way” he shouted at the cloud spilling over the saddle. “Go A-Way!” the mountain tossed his strident little four-year-old voice back. Suddenly he discovered the well of energy reserved somewhere near his lungs, and belted out his challenge with gusto. He believed another little boy was yelling back. Then the cloud receded, and he gaped in astonishment, shaking his head. “It worked!” Right, we had a little talk about echos and skipped the tutorial on correlation versus causation.

Mist shrouded the last little bit up to the hut, but cleared when we reached the top.

Cloud swathed Lyttelton harbor, and beyond the tops of the port hills sticking out we could see Christchurch still smothered in its chilly blanket. It made us doubly glad we had gone out hiking and escaped its embrace. We perched on a little promontory, watched the mist advance and recede, and precariously ate our lunches (“Naomi, sit, or you’ll tumble backwards! Milo, you sit too!”).

We have spent the night in this old stone hut before, and there looks to be a good stock of firewood so we could give it a go again this winter.

Naomi has such an engaging grin, even through grimy window glass.

Milo enjoys his chocolate reward for having made it up the whole way without whinging.

A little pouty face near the end–but a game of “I spy” perked him up. Next summer may see the whole family in the hills again.  

“I like snow,” Milo said, “but I like summer better.” Right you are, buddy.
We thought NY would feel shockingly cold, being that we haven’t felt cold like that (10 degrees F this hiking day = -12 C) for three years. It was cold, that was true, but not surprisingly so. I guess it’s another example of the Power of Expectations. We expected it to be cold, and the weather fulfilled those expectations. Here we are hiking Noonmark in Keene Valley, Adirondacks.

Of course, when the Shaw’s house is this warm, unless you’re hiking, the cold outside is mostly just pretty scenery. Milo decided clothes were an unnecessary luxury this afternoon. And to tell truth, we decided that winter hiking wasn’t for kids, and we left them with Nana in the balmy house for the day.

Here was our hiking crew for the day. Eric (left) is now Missy’s (center) husband. Rachel, a bridesmaid from England, completed the group.

When I wasn’t behind the camera I was hugging birch trees. In the summer I hardly notice them, but in the winter they’re glorious, their white bark glowing with almost a pink color against the brilliant snow. This is my favorite part of the Adirondack mountains in winter–that subalpine birch zone just below the altitude where the spruces take over.

Fresh snow on the spruces! Snowshoe hare tracks crisscross under their bows, but I’ve never caught a glimpse of the creatures themselves. This sunny day the intrepid birds were out chirping, but I went out on a snowshoe a couple days later while it was snowing and it was so silent that the crisp sprinkle of the flakes could be heard against the dried beech leaves.

We had a clear view from the top, before the next bit of weather rolled in from this side.

Winter is fun an all, but that’s not the reason we made the journey to the other side of the planet. This trip was for family. For Missy’s wedding, first of all, and to renew friendships as well. Papa (Jeremiah’s dad) was really looking forward to taking Milo for a ride in his new toy. Vintage 1965, he saw one in the Christchurch museum Antarctica display when they visited us. Papa has a weakness for big machines, history, and good deals….I’m guessing that buying this Tucker SnoCat fulfilled all three passions. I’m not sure something can be a good deal if you don’t need it….but he certainly likes it, as well as the attention it garners from passing motorists.

Another big machine, this one he does need for the business.  Milo’s an appreciative audience.

Nana likes her breakfast smoothies. She chocks them full of healthy stuff, some yummy and some completely inedible. The resulting brew is, to my taste, barely edible…it must be an acquired taste. She made fruit ones for Milo and the rest of the gang, which were delicious.

Wedding day! We dolled ourselves up and then stuck a tacky passifier in Naomi’s mouth. She was crabby and tired, so it was our ploy to buy silence. It didn’t work. Omi and Abi helped out by playing with her upstairs.

There now, she’s got what she needed on Abi’s shoulder.

When Abi relates to the kids, he gets right down at their level. Naomi had a bit of a window-crank fetish, and unfortunately not all of them were stuck on securely. I rescued one from the garbage where she had binned it, and Abi helped her put this one on and off again numerous times, all while showing due admiration for the lego man Milo had thrust under his nose.

Moriah is Jeremiah’s younger sister. Naomi shares a family resemblance, does she not?

“I have 13 cousins!” Milo tells everyone with an ear to spare. Ben, Jeremiah’s older brother, has 13 children. Nathaniel and Elizabeth, some of the youngest, are the same age as Milo and Naomi.
Milo cited sledding with the cousins as the highlight of his America trip.

And here we are, headed back to New Zealand. Unfortunately these good-natured grins were temporary. 30+ hours is a long time to be traveling, even when 15 of them were on a new Dreamliner plane with individual entertainment stations. The beautiful thing was that time doesn’t stand still, as much as it may seem to, and eventually all things come to an end. It was with much relief that we finally disembarked from the last plane in Christchurch. It feels great to be back.

We have a family wedding to attend this week in NY, so we gritted our teeth and endured a 13 hour flight across the pacific. Turns out that the eventful part was yet to come. Ten minutes out of Los Angeles the crew smelled smoke and we made an emergency landing in a little regional airport. No drama really just 6 hours of waiting for a new plane.

Of course we missed our connecting flight in Washington, necessitating an overnight hotel stay. Might as well take a bath!

We bundled our babes up and headed out to play. Rosy cold cheeks--it's single digit cold.

The snowy world is almost colorless, muted greys, blacks and of course pure white

Last week our Alaska friends Mark and Maria paid us a visit. Here we are, group giggles! We spent the week showing them some of our favorite spots in Canterbury. Weather cooperated perfectly, so we really got see a lot.

First day we walked out to Godley Head where the old WWII bunkers still remain. This narrow view would have been the window through which recruits spent dreary hours anxiously scanning the approach to the Lyttleton harbor. It was a glorious day to be out walking, but I imagine that in blowing spitting rain these camouflaged hidey holes weren’t so pleasant.

Surveying the world.

Milo checks out the barren bunker interior, with the Banks Peninsula beyond.

Mark spent a bit of time soaking up the relaxed and friendly atmosphere in NZ. I think he’s saying saying “Wowzers, l LIKE this.”

Another day we headed up to Arthur’s Pass. These purple flowers seemed to be around the edge of a dried lake, a beautiful mountain valley accessible and irresistible to us tourists!

Castle Hill. Any why not yell?

Here’s Milo in his King Seat.

Just up the road from Castle Hill is a bit of the same limestone rock, this time carved into a cave by the resident stream. Here’s the caving crew–the boys. Us women took the kids and sat sedately by the entrance stream, doling out strawberries and scooping kids out of the water.

We figured out that Mark and Jeremiah have the same personality type. Perhaps that is why crawling through a dark, cold, wet cave sounded so appealing to them. Mark loved it.

Jeremiah loved it too, but he was also glad to emerge into the sun and thaw out his fingers.

Further up in the pass we stopped to putter along a nature trail, admiring the flora.

Yet another day we headed out to Akaroa, stopping at Birdlings Flat on the way.

The waves were surprisingly tame for this beach, but every so often one would still creep up to catch our feet.

One afternoon we took a ride up to Pegasus Bay Winery. Wine is nice and all, but the REAL reason for the trip was to feed their pet eels. If you bring along your kids, you can get fish scraps from the restaurant kitchen. Then you meander down the manicured garden lawn to the edge of a shady pond bisected by a picturesque Japanese-style bridge. You pause by the edge of the water, then the EELS start to appear. In DROVES. Silent, slimy, black, bold…the ultimate creepy creature. I was holding Naomi and had to take care that an eel didn’t sample her toe. Not surprisingly (in retrospect), Molly was the only one truly interested in the eels. Dear Reader, if you ever make it down to NZ, I’ll make sure and take you there….oh, and we’ll bring along the kids too.

Not sure what Naomi was demanding here, up in the garden safely out of reach from the eels, but her expression is so characteristic of her go-get-it personality.

Mark and Maria have moved on to tour some more of NZ by train before their return to Alaska. Here’s wishing you safe travels, delightful interactions with people, and food as delicious as a pb&j picnic lunch!

What a way to spend your birthday, hiking with Mom! We celebrated Naomi’s birthday on Saturday October 11 because on Sunday Jeremiah had a fishing trip to Kaikoura. Somehow when he sent me the date the significance of October 12 didn’t register to either of us. Sunday was forecast to be a stunning hiking day–sunny and light winds about the peaks, a rare combo. Our friend graciously agreed to have Milo, so I packed up Naomi and headed out to the hills with some colleagues from work.

We started down there in the valley at about 700 meters, and climbed to Cloudsley Peak at 2100m. It starts out with matagouri and tussocks but quickly climbs to bare scree…and stays bare and exposed the whole rest of the way. Impressive, yes. Grand, yes. Beautiful? Well, yes, it is in a way, but it’s awfully barren.  Naked.  You can see all the bones of the hills.  It would be miserable in the wind.

Naomi’s tucked away in her sleeping bag to stay warm, and it worked. We were in short sleeves for part of the hike but donned jackets and mittens at the top. The two folks with us are work friends, Janine and Tim, who graciously moderated their pace for a pack-laden mama. Naomi was a good sport about being carted up and down the mountain too.

Not quite almost there–you can see the top by it was another 45 minutes of climbing to reach it.  There were grass hoppers in that scree field.  What were they doing there?  No food, that I could see anyway. 

Further west the peaks were more snowy.  Somewhere not far beyond the last snowy peak is the ocean.

Maybe some day Naomi will be an avid hiker and be happy that her first birthday was spent in the mountains. That day she was oblivious to the views, and happy to have snacks inserted into mouth at regular intervals.  And yes, my legs were sore on Monday. 

Look at that face–Naomi is so pleased with herself! Last week she could stand up, let go, and take two shuffles before plopping down on her bum. Monday she got four steps in a row. Wednesday the tally was 7. This morning she’s been walking across the living room. With the aid of the Tonka Truck, she can go the whole length of the driveway. As a kid, I spent many happy afternoons zipping around Mommom and Poppop’s house with the vintage green Tonka truck packed with Fisher Price passengers.

“Cool little disks fit into the slots, I can do that too!” The strategy of Connect Four still eludes even Milo, but nevertheless Naomi confidently joined in the game. The great thing was that she couldn’t actually make it into the slot, so Jeremiah and Milo could carry on playing while Naomi happily joined in her own way.