Diary of a House: January 2021

Sunday 31 January 2021

Attempting the Impossible

An almost impossible task- getting to grips with the mountain of stuff which is 22 College Ave. It's overwhelming so I leave. Structured procrastination. I drive to Vintage Wonderland to see if they've still got a light shade I saw pre-Christmas, for the ensuite. No. Alistair is philosophical- best to keep looking and wait for something to turn up. I drop in on Pete but he's playing golf so I chat to Hannah about death and family relationships. Her Grandad in California died yesterday.

Back home I swing Kahu into action and he gets the lawn mown minutes before rain buckets down. I swim in the southerly change...fresh water, cold air. The first volleyball game of the year for the Morris Minors is a winner.

Friday 29 January 2021

Back Home

It feels weird to be leaving home for home but I'm ready to return to my house. My heart is split. In Christchurch I need to sort the house out, I've only just started. But I feel emotional getting on the plane. I'm a step closer to closing a door of my life. The door of my childhood, adolescence and early adulthood. I feel older, a step closer to the end. It is the end of an era. Nearly.

The ride out is turbulent and I hang on to the seat in front. We circle to gain altitude, tipped sideways and dropping to ride the winds to safety. But we get to Christchurch in one piece. It's like stepping into an oven. I ring Mark but he's too drunk to pick me up so I catch an Ola. On the way I get a call from Mark to say he's at the airport. When he arrives home he wants to pick Kahu up. I take his keys. I'm angry, frustrated and flabbergasted, but I've been here many times before.

It's another scorcher and we go to the beach later. Alex didn't know Mark was coming and is pleasantly surprised. Judith comes for dinner, Graeme appears after touch, and Steve. It's like old times sitting round the table. Old times but our lives have moved on. Kahu tries out his height but is still slightly shorter than his dad. Nearly but not quite. I'm missing Central Otago but glad to be home.

Packing/Not Packing

The L.J. Hooker team arrive to have a look through the house. Donna gets them to pose- they're happy chappies, taking this sale seriously. The house is getting ready but Tui and Lionel's room, where I'm sleeping has stuff everywhere. If T and L were here they would nod their heads at the familiarity. It's been like this since boarding school, then uni days, when I came home for the weekend or school holidays. Short periods, not worth unpacking for. I lived out of bags and spread stuff to find stuff. It's been a peripatetic lifetime, or maybe several. I think I was a Bedouin in a past life.

Nic and I cool off with a coffee. When she goes to work I start to pack and tidy then find other, more interesting, things to do. Like retrieve the dish of dirt from the cemetery. Not much has gone so I sprinkle it. And say farewell.

I head to Max's shop. She invites me to try on a coat and do a model walk. Of course I end up buying it. The fit is perfect and the style is so 60's/70's. I go home and think about more packing but Lake Dunstan is calling. Packing happens before bed.

Thursday 28 January 2021

63rd Wedding Anniversary

It's Tui and Lionel's wedding anniversary- 25/1/1958. Tui's explanation of their courtship.

We met at St John’s Church in Invercargill when this nice young man came up and asked if he could take me home after a service. I told him I had my bicycle but he said that wasn’t a problem he would put it in the boot. After that he would come in every weekend and we would go for drives in the country. But there was a problem. He was getting serious. This was April and I was booked to go to England on a trip with a friend in May. We decided I would go ahead. It would give us time to think things over and I would return a lot sooner than I had planned. So we wrote regularly and he met me at Lyttleton on my return. From there we had about a week and decided to get engaged, buying the ring in Dunedin on our way home. We were married at St John’s on 25^th January , 1958. As the Teviotdales didn’t have accommodation for a married couple Lionel had to look for another job. We settled with Charlie and Jean Sutton at Fairfax and had seven happy years there. Our three daughters were born in this friendly community.

But Lionel was hoping to own his own farm. At this time the Lands and Survey Department was developing land in vrioius parts of Southland for ex-servicemen who wished to take up farming. As their needs were satisfied the scheme was opened to others. Lionel applied for several years and attended the ballots at the end of each. The largest scheme of all was in the Te Anau Basin and there were three farms the last year we applied with over 80 applicatns. We couldn’t believe our luck when our name came out of the ballot. Lionel hadn’t even gone to the draw. We didn’t realise at the time but it was better than winning Lotto. And so we took a farm of 500 acres, five miles from Te Anau on the way to Mossburn. It was only partly developed of course and there was a lot of hard work ahead but Lionel couldn’t believe his luck.

Just moved to Te Anau, 1964

We spend the day sorting and tidying. Divvying up in order of age, eldest to youngest. In the end we all decide with no arguments or tension. Seems we value different things. Nic passes on the 1860's painting, supposedly to go to the eldest in each generation, says it doesn't appeal and wouldn't work in her hous. I love it so I'm stoked. With a sense of achievement we head out to the Courthouse Cafe. In the afternoon I contact Arthur for the third time to pay petrol money. He presents me with a detailed, handwritten document which I straight away lose down the back of a built in cabinet. So I go to visit him. His house, immaculately ordered, full of odds and ends. Like his head. I slip into Arthur meditative mode, gentle, quiet, slow. We end the day with an Indian, we forget to toast Tui and Lionel. I'm exhausted and sensitive and try to keep a low profile.

Lines company, Orion's, pole catch up

The Vanishing Past

Seconds pass, lives vanish, death comes to us all. And with it the irrelevance of stuff. What matters and what lasts are our social connections. The death of a parent mixes the two. I feel like I've lost my childhood. The time we spent, the memories we created, have gone. So I grieve my childhood, lost to me except through physical items like photographs and family possessions. The things we used, the clothes we wore, the plates we ate off. Most I can let go, but there's some I am attached to. And I find out these are more than I realised.

The garage sale is supposed to start at 8am but people arrive when the urge takes them. There's an early rush before we settle. So slow I get permission to go on my morning ride ride up to the airport. All is well after I have a coffee. More people come and go. The neighbours trickle in mid morning and we meet people we've never seen who know us. We "get rid of" more than we expected. It's great to see socket sets, LP's, wool blankets, lawn bowls get a new life somewhere else. Some garage salers take a long time and I ask one careful shopper to take me to the dump with stuff too unwieldy to fit in the Suzuki. Cameron is very obliging, says he hasn't got much to do today. Tells me about his mum in a wheel chair with MS. A slow death, too soon.

Late afternoon, we visit Jill, Lionel and Tui's, carer. She went above and beyond for some time- doing extras and telling me the inside story before she let Healthcare know so I could prepare myself for changes. She broke the rules and helped keep Lionel at home longer. She knew time in the house was more than cooking, cleaning and showering. It was human contact. Jill's also entertaining and we owe her big time. Today it's her turn for tragedy. Having already lost one daughter aged 18, she has another terminally sick in her mid 30's and an unwell husband. Who looks after her? Jill boxes on, her family life vanishing before her eyes.