Social Isolation Day 28: Halswell Quarry Habituals

Milo peeked into my bedroom this morning and climbed into my bed, and unusual move for him.  Thankfully his nature called a few seconds later and I had a chance to scuttle out to my closet and get some proper clothes on before diving back into bed, ready for his return from the potty.

“Why are you snuggling into my bed this morning, Mr. Milo?” I asked, as I ran my hand over his cropped hair.

“Staying away from mean Daddy,” he pouted.

Milo and Jeremiah have had just about enough of sharing the same space, and tolerances have been fraying for the last few days.  Oddly, the more Milo fights with Jeremiah, the more cooperative he is towards me.  Go figure.  I guess he figures he needs one parental ally, and can’t bite both hands that feed him, at least simultaneously.

“Cooperative” is all relative when it comes to Milo, but this afternoon he didn’t even put up a fuss when I announced that I was abandoning the garden (and along with it the territorial squawking of the kids), and we were all going to troop around the quarry.  AND that we were biking there, not driving.

We’ve become habituals at Halswell Quarry these days, walking the same path again and again. It’s a good thing, actually, especially for kids. I remember doing that with my grandparents at a little nature reserve called Five Rivers, and they had tons of patience to stop dozens of times along the path. Naomi always wants to climb up this tree.

And Milo tries to climb into the hedge. For some reason he decided to wear his bike helmet on the walk.

Social Isolation Day 27

Delight of the Day: a vase of flowers. I don’t normally pick flowers for inside because I don’t spend a lot of time in the house, they soon fade, and then I have to throw away flowers which seems so cruel. But one day I accidentally broke off one of those gaudy pink blossoms (Nerine) and figured I might as well put it in a vase.  It lasted three long weeks and I enjoyed it multiple times a day.  When put the flowers the corner of the bathroom mirror I get 4 for the price of 1!

 

Social Isolation: Day 25, squirreliness

“Mom, Mom, I found a fake egg!” Naomi called as she ran across the grass. Half a second later she had squeezed said egg and it was shockingly genuine, and dripping all over her fingers! Best we can figure it was a duck egg, laid by a confused duck under a tree not too far from the Avon River.

We had gone to Hagley park with two goals in mind. Firstly, the kids were excited to find a pile of leaves to jump in. This little gully caught the windblown leaves naturally, saving us the effort of collecting them.

My mission for the excursion was to collect more nuts. We discovered this tree last week and I really enjoyed the few I had gathered on a salad with the last of the garden’s cucumbers and tomatoes, and I wanted more. They’re a good deal of work to shell, but we have an abundance of time on our hands at the moment….. The shiny smooth nuts are addictive to gather, and I felt rich as I stirred them with my fingers, clinking against one another satisfactorily. I kept saying I was just about finished gathering, but then I’d spot another, and another, and I’d be scurrying to hoard them like an industrious squirrel. It was rather like trying to leave a blueberry field when the picking is really good but the containers were full….just this last handful….and this one too….and these are too good to pass up. Mom used to call, “come on girls, I don’t have enough money to pay for more than this!” Except these nuts were FREE!

Torrey pine, from the USA. It grows bigger pine nuts than the ones you can buy in the grocery store.

Social Isolation Day 24: solace in art

“I feel like I’m not actually achieving anything I’m supposed to, but kind of half-assing it,” my friend Carrie text yesterday. She’s trying to work from home, along with her husband, while her three young kids are also at home. Craziness.
I’m not trying to work from home like many women are right now, but Carrie’s text certainly struck a chord. I feel like I’m only half getting there for much of my life. Career, kids, marriage, and self-health….some people say you can have it all but I certainly haven’t figured out how. Now that the career has come to a grinding halt I suppose I could be the domestic queen, but I’m lacking the motivation.  TOTALLY lacking motivation.

When Carrie said “half ass-ing” it tickled me, so I thought I’d whack together an illustration of a half ass. I put a movie on for the kids and sat in the sunny dining room, bits of paper littering the carpet and a podcast playing. There’s nothing quite as enjoyable as a good crafty art session to lift my mood.

I’m REALLY thankful for our dining room. It’s this great octagon space sticking out into the garden, catching the sun all day and also handily near the heat pump and the kettle. It’s perfect for work, school, games and crafts. And it’s NOT in the same space as the TV, a double bonus.

Social Isolation Day 23: candid conversations

I went biking with Naomi the other day.  We were spinning along the empty road and she was prattling on cheerfully, as is her wont. Suddenly she let out a big fart.  “That was a good one!” she exclaimed.  Brotherly influence and all that, I assume.

Normally I’d have made a face, and moved on.  But now that time isn’t of the essence, I asked, curiously, “What makes a fart a good one?”

“When I push hard and it all comes out,” she explained, grinning.

Candid conversations of a more serious sort happen too.

“Milo, I really don’t know what to do with you.  You’ve been disrespectful and rude all morning.  This isn’t a good trajectory.  I want to enjoy your company, but I can’t let you behave like this.”  Pause.  I feel hopeless at his atrocious behavior and now I’m curious.  “Milo, why are you acting like this?”

“Well, I’m act like that because Naomi is stupid and mean.  She squawks when I just walk by, and then I get in trouble.”

“Hum, you feel like it’s not fair that you get in trouble when Naomi’s been part of it too?”

“Yeah”

Long pause.  “Sometimes Naomi can be annoying, eh?  But you know Milo; in life, you can only control your own actions.  You can’t control anyone else’s.”  I thought for another minute.  “If you can’t behave yourself around Naomi, maybe you’ll have to stay home when we go out this afternoon.”  The child doesn’t know how to play by himself, so by the time Naomi and I got back home, he was quite glad to have her company.

And surprisingly, he was much more pleasant to be around for the next couple days.

Naomi’s interpretation of the dynamic was simple.  I told her their noisiness and discord was driving me nuts.  Why oh why do they do that?  She went explained her mode of operation in simple terms that even a mother could grasp:

“You get angry, then you squawk, then you laugh; that’s how you do it!”

 

Social Isolation Day 23: Home School teething

“Milo, can you show me what your assignments are from your teacher?”  School from home officially started yesterday for the kids.  Yesterday I left Milo to his own devices but then thought better of it, and decided I’d be wiser to check up on his work.

“My teacher hasn’t assigned anything,” Milo asserted.

“Hum, just let me read his email.”  Milo threw his arms around the laptop protectively.  “No, Milo, I want to see what he sent.”  Reluctantly he opened his school email.  I pointed to the attachment.  He opened it, and shifted the document up and down the screen restlessly.

“Milo, be still, I need to read it.”

“I already know what to do!”

“Right, but need to know what you need to do too!”  I perused the document quickly.  “It says you need some stuff on your learning platform, can you show me that?”

Milo groaned, and clicked on the browser tab, again shifting the page up and down and clicking rapidly.  “Mom, I know what I have to do.”

“Can you show me your Addition and Subtraction SDL doc?” I queried.  “And stop moving the page around, I can’t read it when you do that.”

“You don’t have to, I can follow the directions myself!” he declared, as he clicked away to another tab.

“Milo!  Stop it!  Go hang out in your room until I have a chance to read through this undisturbed!”  Feet dragging, groaning, moaning, and high pitched squealing theatrical performance followed, ended by an escort to his room and a threat that he may not exit until called for.  I retired to the computer in relative peace, only to be accosted by Naomi.  Her ClassDojo app on the tablet has instructional videos that weren’t working. Something about the app was cranky with tablets, so I had to get the videos over my email. Naomi didn’t want to give up possession of the tablet, and kept swiping and tapping with the blithe assurance that though the video hadn’t worked last time, it probably would this time, if she could just DO IT HERSELF.

Milo popped his head out of his bedroom door: “Mom! When can I come out?”

“When I have had a chance to figure out your on-line school,” I retorted, “which takes longer when you keep bugging me!”  I turned back to squint at the laptop screen.

“Naomi!  Stop clicking on that video!  Can you please go and play in your room until I’ve had a chance to figure this out?”  Naomi disappeared and was quiet, but Milo kept up a steady stream of rattling complaint from his bedroom door.

Jeremiah emerged from the bedroom where he’s set up his office for morning tea and asked how things were going.

“Milo’s banished to his room while I figure out his “bleeping” school platform, and Naomi’s videos aren’t working on the wretched tablet, and I haven’t even had a chance to have breakfast yet!”

“Would you like a muffin?”

“Yes.”

“Warmed up?”

“Yes.”

“With butter?”

“Yes, please,” I muttered, sheepishly.  The muffin was duly delivered, and Jeremiah retreated to his bedroom sanctuary.

Eventually I sussed out the daily tasks Milo was responsible for, amid the network of the student dashboard and the google docs with reporting templates, and made him a chart where he has to check off what he’s done each day.  I’m still not sure which ones he has to submit as evidence to his teacher, or how we’re meant to do worksheets without a printer, but it’s a start anyway.

Maybe tomorrow will be smoother.

I actually took this photo yesterday, a fall iris blooming in the side garden. The flowers are on short stems, so they kinda get lost among the tall and rather skanky foliage. I felt it deserved a moment in the spot light, and besides I didn’t manage to take any other nice pictures today.

However, my Delight of the Day was hearing my Mom’s voice on the phone sounding so cheerful. She felt a little better than the day before, and Dad was doing ok too. We let out our breath a little bit.  They seem to be coping well, but we’ll feel much better if they’re still perky in a seven days. That’s April 21. I’ve got Day 1 marked on my calendar.

 

 

 

 

Isolation day 22: Skin in the game

That’s not quite the message you want to hear, when Kelsey is with our parents in NYC, the epicenter of the covid19 outbreak in the USA. Particularly when Dad said he was going to bed early yesterday because he wasn’t feeling quite right.

I called her back.  The long and short of it is that Dad stayed in bed with a cough this morning, and Mom was currently on the couch with the chills.  She had called Kelsey to let her know she was sorry, but she couldn’t take care of Emerson, my one year old nephew, that day.

So now we have skin in the game, as the saying goes.

After morning dawned in NZ, us girls did a zoom meeting.  Kelsey is with her one year old son Emerson in NYC, working from her apartment; Rebecca is in Chicago, trying to teach high school math in the new on-line format; Susanna is starting the uncertain vegetable growing season in Massachusetts, and I’m at home without any work to speak of in New Zealand, home schooling the kids.  Dad also has brothers scattered over the eastern half of the USA.  We triaged the next steps.  Gosh, we should have done that weeks ago.

First off, most people with Covid19 recover.

But were Mom and Dad taking this development seriously enough?  We weren’t sure.  They seemed a bit fatalistic about the prognosis.  Up until today Dad had been continuing his work as a factory maintenance electrician, because if you stop your job in America, you lose your health insurance.

Most people with Covid19 recover.

What were the symptoms we should be watching for that would mean Kelsey should take them to the hospital?  No use being too early or too late on that call.  Rebecca would call our dear friend Dr. Kennedy and find out.

Remember, most people with Covid19 recover.

Kelsey has a spare key to their apartment, and will find out where their car is currently parked, and will scout out the route to the nearest hospital.

Most people with Covid19 WILL recover.

Will Kelsey get sick as well?  Or has she already had it but not known it was IT?  If she goes to hospital, how do we care for Emerson?  Lots of questions there, but we do have a big, warm, loyal family.  

Most people with Covid19 will recover.

Most people with Covid19 do recover.

Most people with Covid19 recover.

It IS true, most people with Covid19 DO recover.  In NZ, one small country for which we have very good up-to-date publicly available data, of the 1386 confirmed cases today (and that’s with more than 66,000 tests to date, so we’re reasonably certain we’re finding all the cases) there have been nine fatalities.  And 728 people have recovered so far.

 

 

 

 

Social Isolation: Day 21 “brewing”

Milo originally came out of the house carrying a meat tenderizer, the potato masher, and a porcelain plate. What could possibly go wrong with that combo? I told him to trade the plate for a frisbee, then the only consequence was a mess. My socks picked up a fragrant sticky yellow residue from the patio after that.

“Mom’s taking a photo, it’s my cue to make a stupid face!” They’re listening to a read aloud book on Epic, a kid reading app that’s been a real boon during this lockdown.

In Remembrance of Better Times

My sister Susanna visited us in New Zealand at the end of February.  It seems like another world now, in the age where we were working, going to school, and exploring the wilderness, but it was less than two months ago.  Life was busy then and I didn’t take the time to share any photos from her visit.  Now I have time, and it’ll do me good to remember that world.

I haven’t lived with Susanna for 20 years, if you can believe it–I’m marking time in decades now, like the old farts.  Almost 20 years ago I left home to go to college.  Susanna is 8 years younger than me, but she and I used to spend a lot of time together.  I was energetic and project-oriented; so was Susanna.  And she (unlike me) was very sociable.  My enduring memory of her childhood is her lovely saying, “I just want to be with you.”  It didn’t matter what I was doing, whether it was scrubbing and re-staining the deck or vacuuming the swimming pool or raking leaves, Susanna was happy to come along and help out.  And personality-wise, we’re very similar, except for the aforementioned sociability.  I was curious to see if that similarity had lasted over the years.

Turns out it has.  As much we’ve changed ourselves in various ways, the core preferences and personality are still the same.  It’s comforting in a funny confidence-boosting sort of way; there’s someone else in this world who operates just the same way I do.  And moreover, her way of moving through the world is working just fine for her.

The following trip was from February 20-23. 

It was mid winter 2019 when Carrie suggested planning the hike into Gillespie Pass, down near Queenstown.  It would involve taking some time off work and arranging the husband calendar to take care of the kids, but the other girls are much better at trip planning than me, and all I’d have to do is jump onto their good forethought.  So we planned, and we hoped for good weather, the one thing we couldn’t schedule ahead of time.  

As the time approached, the forecast did not cooperate.  It became so dismal for southland, in fact, that we had to move to Plan B.  Carrie found a great loop in the Nelson Lakes and we headed north instead of south.

We got up to Lake Rotaroa in time for our 7:00 boat ride to Sabine Hut. There is no longer a trail along the lake edge, so the 20 minute boat ride takes the place of a day’s tramp from Lake Rotoiti.

Five backpacks, 5 girls.

Sabine Hut is just on the lake shore, very luxurious with a beautiful setting and merciless sand flies.

Inside is pretty posh too, with a nice cooking area and better windows than most NZ homes (double glazed with insect screening). Left to right: Carrie, Susanna, Molly, Irmana. Jue is taking the photo.

We started off the next day through lush green beech forest. It was about 17 kilometers to Blue Lake hut, our destination for that night.  The trail is well maintained and all the stream crossings have bridges….except for a few that recent river flooding have re-arranged.

We walked up the Sabine river valley all day, along sparkling clear water with a startling blue tinge.  If you stop in the woods, the sand flies don’t seem to find you.

Sometimes the trees opened up to grassy river flats or we climbed over scree that had fallen down the mountain side. If there weren’t multiple avalanche warning signs, I’d say it’d be a great track for the winter.

We lunched at West Sabine hut, another flash DOC hut, and the junction with the Tearoa trail.

Just after lunch the soles on Jue’s shoes started to come loose. We stopped and tied them back on.

Then we stopped and taped them on. In fact, we tended to those shoes frequently for the rest of the day.  Correction: for the rest of the trip.

I practiced my map reading skills, trying to figure out how far along the valley we had come by comparing the slips and the river clearings on the map to what we could see….not that I really needed to, the trail was well marked.  I’m not a great map reader but this past year I’ve been doing rogaines with Sally, and it DOES seem to have improved my map reading skills.

Blue Lake hut is very popular. We rolled in pretty late in the afternoon thinking we’d need to pitch our tents, but were pleasantly surprised to find exactly 5 bunks unoccupied. We ditched our stuff and went for a wash in the icy stream that exits Blue Lake (no swimming allowed in the pristine lake).  The frigid dip isn’t worth the cleanliness in my book, but I succumbed to peer pressure and squashelled around, gasping but feeling quite accomplished in a clean pair of undies after emerging.  No photos of the bathing beauties survived.  

Blue Lake is one of the clearest fresh bodies of water in the world. Long ago an earthquake shook down a massive jumble of rocks from the surrounding mountains and blocked off the valley just above, creating the much bigger Lake Constance. The waters of Blue Lake filter through the sediments from the lake above, and by the time they fill the little depression that is Blue Lake, they are stripped of all particulates.

Blue lake is just below; we’re climbing the earthquake dam. It made me wonder what will happen up there next time the Southern Alps fault slips.  I hope NOT to be staying at the hut that day.

The next day it RAINED. We took a little stroll up to peak at Lake Constance under the clouds, got wet enough to feel we’d done something, then retreated to the hut again.  My macpac jacket once again failed the water proof test, grr.  

View from a top bunk in the hut.

We spent the rest of the day cozily near the wood stove, playing Iota and Quiddler, and debating what tramp we’d do the next day. We feared that Jue’s shoes weren’t going to be up to the task of going over Moss Pass and down the Durville Valley, so with much reluctance we decided to walk back out the way we came in.

Still, I wanted to give Susanna the experience of a NZ mountain pass, so she and I got up early the next morning and climbed up to Moss pass. We saw a group of chamois scampering over the scree and up some cliffs, their agile babies following nimbly along. The cloud sometimes opened up behind us, and sometimes closed in as we clambered up the stream bed. We peaked into the Durville Valley–there was no hint of the expanse below us through the fog.

Blue Lake seen from above, coming down from Moss Pass.

The other three girls spent a leisurely morning at the hut (Bruce is the colorful hut warden) and set off not 30 minutes before us….still, we didn’t catch them until lunch time.

Possibly that was because we kept stopping to caress the moss….It’s irresistible, vibrant, shimmering with fresh rain.

We made it back to Sabine hut for our last night on the trail. The day we were leaving was another stellar weather day, still and clear, so Carrie and I got up early and climbed up Mt Cedric.  The tops were open before us and we pointed at Durville Valley where we had intended to come out, and lamented that we didn’t have another day to go on to Angelus Hut.

Brrr! It’s warm when climbing but chilly when we stop!

While we hiked the other girls went for another frigid swim.  Irmana’s face says it all!

Then they warmed up in their puffies!

We had planned another trip up there for next weekend, but we’ve had to flag it with the Covid19 shut down. We’ll go back….we may have all had the virus by then, or NZ may succeed in quashing it….but it’s good to remember that the mountains are still out there, relatively unchanging.

Social Isolation: Day 18

“Hey, how about we go into Hagley Park this weekend–we could bike there,” I suggested to Milo yesterday morning.

“Nah,” Milo dismissed that idea quickly.  “I don’t want to go to Hagley.  Hagley Park is boring.”

Later the kids kicked at some fallen leaves and wanted to rake up a pile to jump in.  “Hagley Park has the best fall leaves,” I suggested.

“I want to go to Hagley!” Milo rejoined.  “But I don’t want to bike.”

So we drove.  The bridges leading to the centre of the park are all gated, but the outside is still available for a romp.

The leaves were in perfect condition: reasonably dry, musty enough to be genuine but not too moldy.

We brought the frisbee and the rugby ball, and found a quiet spot to toss them. At some point I stooped down to caress the long pine needles–they remind me of the beautiful pine needle basket my west coast friend made for me–and noticed a shiny nut on the ground. I bit it open, exposing a big cream-colored oily seed, a pine nut! Collecting pine nuts is addictive, as is running ones fingers through the stash. The pine cones themselves seem to stay in the tree, just the seed falls to the ground.  I was as delighted as a fat squirrel.  

Naomi likes to try her hand at photography.  A great day for the park.  If the other walkers hadn’t skirted around us suspiciously and if the public toilets had been open, it would have been easy to forget we were in the midst of a pandemic.  

Side note: Cirque du Soleil has some of their performances on you-tube for free at the moment. The broadcast aired at 7:00 a.m. NZ time, giving a holiday-like start to the day.