Term holidays, don't really exist. The only real holidays are those at Christmas. The others are rest, recover, catch up. And even then, we never do any of these properly. So after hanging out with Māori teachers I go into school for a morning. Yuck. I pick Sharyn up to go to Newnham Terrace to talk to Gary the builder about his start and finish times. He lies like a flat fish. Says he uses his head torch when arrives at work at 7:15. For over an hour? It would be laughable but I want to slap him. He's over charged Sharyn by thousands of dollars. Can't look us in the eye. Sharyn's brain injury makes it difficult for her to pin him down and it's not my place to go for the jugular. Sharyn's brother, Nigel the project manager, should do that. But he's already dropped in to see Gary this morning.
On Saturday I pick up more curtain fabric samples. William Morris this time. It's superior to anything else whilst being in the same price range as inferior fabrics. I figure it's do or die. Sunday is a Morris family lunch with Jane and Geoff, and Jane's uncle and aunt on the other side. There are four of us cousins, Jane, David, Kathryn and I, and three from the next generation, Caroline, Kahu and Jazmin. And Auntie Ruth. It's a cold winter's day, perfect for sitting inside eating.
I throw things in my bag and stagger out of bed early for another Wellington flight to the biennial Combined Trade Union conference for women at the Michael Fowler Centre. It's beside the old town hall which was under scaffold two years ago and is still being fixed.
The conference delivers interesting speakers and the food is amazing. I listen, try to talk to Sharyn, organise Jenny who is staying in my room, John who is visiting, and Kahu who is cooking for everyone, as well as fighting fatigue. The rigours of the term take a while to get out of the system. I meet a very sweet Parisien, behind the camera and one of the few men in the room. We have a stiff walk in a cold Wellington wind to dinner at an old bank where the food is super good. People who are conference goers put on weight. I can see why.
Day two stretches one session too long. When we end I go shopping before meeting up with Sue, an old boarding school friend. We've boarded together since 12 years old, strong bonds... we're like sisters. A catch up over drinks then I catch a bus to Lynley in Lower Hutt. She's another school friend who's like family. People from past lives still in the present who have become familiar in a special, easy way.
But Lynley seems different, tired maybe, and wintered out. She suffers so depression so winter is never easy. And she has school work to finish. I meet, Jae, another mate from early Christchurch days and we visit a Shane Cotton exhibition. I see the art but am so engrossed in a catch up the art flows over my head. Lynley and I go for a walk along the foreshore at Petone. Her in laws who are staying come too. Before I fly out next day, Lynley and I visit Audrey, a special mother figure from Wellington days, 1983-5. She is the same age as Tui would have been and living out her last days in a retirement home. Body caught in four walls but mind roaming free. It hovers over her youth when she stayed out past curfew, sneaking home through the laundry window only to find her mother waiting for her by the laundry sink. Audrey reminisces about happy times in her 20's and 30's, an innocent time of hope before her beloved Bill died in the war. Leaving her a widow with three children.
After a visit to an old university/ travelling friend from Invercargill, Mary, I'm back in the Koru lounge. Happy to be flying home.
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