Diary of a House

Monday, 14 February 2022

Last Week of Freedom

It's a week of swimming and settling back into Christchurch...unpacking and tidying up the house and garden. Not to mention, processing apricots. Preserving, making apricot marmalade and chutney. I find one of Lionel's bank cards in a box of preserving rings, lost ages ago. It's slipped into a crevice and reminds me of summers past when I used to take Lionel on drives to pick apricots then preserve them. He would sit at the table and cut them in half with his curled, arthritic fingers. Having worked hard all his life he loved doing something useful. I also clean up the kitchen where nothing has moved for two weeks, except mold. Not sure what Kahu cooks when I'm not here, very little, as the few dishes I left are still here.

Amana and I go to Sparks in the Park. I wonder if it will the last big event for a while; Omicron's out of the bag. Still feels unreal and far away, but that's an illusion. It's not relevant but very relevant. Sunday afternoon in Cathderal Square at the Old Government Buildings bar and town is eerily quiet. Folks are staying home.

I go on peer support camp for the first time. I assume it will be cruisy but it turns out work intensive. The kids are excited and happy to be together and it's a good vibe. I find out I've got a Year 9 form class, an extension class who I will teach. I haven't had an extension class in over ten years, lack of confidence from the HOD but the new one is different. She's seen my teaching for two years and is much fairer. Extension kids are easy and fun to teach because they're smart. I have cruisy peer support leaders but I wish one of them had artistic talent....my tree banner could do with clearer lines. They dab paint on like kids at kindergarten. My challenge is the night line walk and I concentrate on not being scared. I've got a blindfold on anyway. I get to the end without freaking out.

Meanwhile Nic and I put an offer in on a house in Alex. There's paperwork and more paperwork. And I have to do it from camp. In the end we have competition from another buyer and put a low offer in knowing it won't be accepted. It's disappointing but we've made a start. We've been through the process, except for organising funds. Another exercise in paperwork which it feels like climbing a mountain. The government has restricted lending to make it harder to get a mortgage. But the horse has bolted in Aotearoa as there are not enough houses to go round and lots of people are returning from overseas because of Covid, cashed up. Prices have gone up about 7% in the last year which means we've gone backwards after selling the family home. It's dispiriting. Must be depressing for people trying to save a deposit and applying for higher and higher mortgages with interest rates going up and banks less willing to lend money. Nic and I are in the privileged position of owning houses but want somewhere to go in a place, Central Otago, which feels like home.

27th Januaary

Cases and vaccinations

There are 45 new community Covid-19 cases, and 90 Omicron cases in total to date, officials have reported.

The 45 new community cases (both Omicron and Delta) were in Auckland (22), Waikato (two), Bay of Plenty (three), Lakes (seven), Taranaki (one), Hawke’s Bay (eight), Nelson Marlborough (two).

Saturday, 12 February 2022

Art, Apricots and Eruptions

Lynette, Denis and I take a trip to Makarora. I haven't been there before and feel Denis's sense of adventure. He's returning home and is so excited. It's beautiful weather and a beautiful drive along sapphire lakes at the feet of southern mountains. Reminds me of Fiordland: bush, blue water, soaring peaks. When we get there we find the folks who own the home Denis built and they take us to visit. Memory lane. We drive down the road to a bush track. Denis can't walk and Lynette's hip gets sore so we spend time and I get a fix of bush scents rising from layers of beech leaves on soil. I've missed this smell of humus and leafy greens. Although Denis is in pain, he's at peace. On Sunday I take him to Art at the Packing Shed and he sees other local art and its creators. Although he's a Central Otago patron of the arts, people don't pay him much heed or give him time. He's old, his life force is diminishing and like many of the elderly is fading into invisibility. Paget's disease makes his joints ache and ultimately results in bone cancer. The rust is already in his bones and his body smells of it. I take him to Maxine's where he looks over the art in her shop pronouncing it better than what we've seen.

Meanwhile I visit Eden Hore's collection of merino high fashion from the 60's and 70's. A high country farmer, he had a proclivity for asethetics, especially of fashion, and had the foresight to collect avant garde pieces. An eccentric, he used to ride round with a goat in his car. A book in Central Stories Museum has allowed those who remember to record his exploits.

The sun burns down and relief from a swim in the lake is fleeting. Lynette and I eat outside on Saturday night and I'm unsettled by deep booming sounds about 7pm. Lynette's not...somebody letting off explosions. At this time??? Are they mad? Too close to earthquakes for me. Listening to the news later, turns out it's a volcano in the Tongan islands reawakening. Only Mother Nature can generate such energy. I heard similar when the earth moved in 2011 and when a comet flashed through the atmosphere about 2006. Theses sounds stop me in my tracks and change lives forever.

I stay at Maxine's and we drag mattresses outside to sleep under the stars. She lives in the middle of Ashton's orchard and we forage apricots... left after picking so it doesn't feel like stealing. I fill three boxes. I do more visiting and see Arthur, of moving fame, and June who have had a year of bereavement with stories to make my hair curl. They recount with wry humour and laughs which belie the tragedy of loss.

On Wednesday, two weeks is up and I throw my stuff in the car, put Lynette's bike and mine on the back and drive north back to the city. Mixed feelings but this is my other life and keeps my world turning. I make it in time for a game of bowls at Papanui BC, my first for the PHS team. We're schooled by old timers...rolling is harder than it looks but this is fun. I get to my beach at dusk. The surf is roaring.

Thursday and I start to process apricots. Covid is somewhere out there.

Sunset

Sunrise

Sunday, 6 February 2022

Back in Alex

It's strange to be back in Alex with no family but the drive from Airport Rd in feels so familiar, it's like coming home. Lynette's, where I'm staying is just down the road from the house in Fir Close but I don't dwell on it. Time with Tui and Lionel has been and gone, that part of my life in two boxes under the sod in Clyde cemetery.

Lynette and I go for a bike ride to the airport. Feels like the same routine, just a little different and Lynette is a faster pedaller. I go to visit Maxine in her shop, Matau, and she poses with her latest art work, a tiger she painted during lockdown. She has been busy sourcing old stuff and the inside is attractive, luring people through the door to browse, pick up and buy. Debbie's ice cream, Nom Nom, is next. As good as ever, especially old friends.

The weather heats up. Some would say, like the summers of old, but climate change makes me nervous and I wish for cooler temperatures. The lake is cooling but the nights are warm so sleeping with one sheet. I start to feel itchy again and realise I've got scabies, round 2. I'm sure it's from Sharyn and when I look at her wearing my hat on Christmas Day, I know. So I contact Bertie to send me some permethrin left over in the cupboard. I could do without the drama but at least Lynette is cool about it.

The week passes with visits, chutney making and general wind down. Lots of jigsaws, like days of old, but I can't get Lynette to go out. She's a little stuck and bored. I do my best to make things happen and go to Wanaka, visiting Cromwell friends on the way.