Call me cynical if you like

Don't get me wrong. I genuinely admire Tony Blair and hope that he will make a good envoy for peace in the middle east?

Call me cynical if you like though, but what happens to international oil prices when there is trouble in the middle east? Which two countries control the majority (if not all) of Iraqi oil? What would become of the international arms industry if he succeeded. How would the return of so many thousands of US soldiers impact a sagging US economy and does the West really want peace in the middle east, or is it all just so much political'spin'?

Well, I guess he'll make a much more acceptable envoy than George W, but it's still a little like sending Hitler to advocate for those in the concentration camps. Don't you think?

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How precious are the little things we take for granted.

It's Tuesday। Not usually my day off but Ciara & Youjae are having a family day with baby, so I take the opportunity and head for the country. Avoiding the main highway I trace a back mountain road (we call them hill roads) to the west coast beaches north of Wellington. I stop for a few moments at the roads highest point, 205 meters above the small township of Paekakariki, overlooking Kapiti Island just a few miles off-shore: the winter sun, filtered by high cumulus cloud casts a steely gray huge across the Tasman Sea, making its calm shiny waters mysterious and murky looking.

To my left I can clearly see the rugged outline of the the South Island and to my right, gray sanded west coast beaches stretch endlessly before me until they vanished into the distant nothingness of the horizon। Just looking down from the sheer cliff beneath my feet to the rocky coast immediately below gives me an uneasy churning deep in my stomach. It's been several years since I came this way and as I have forgotten this view more times than I care to remember, so this time I pause a little longer - to enjoy it.


What I don't know at this time is that in an hour or so, my dear aunt, Bea, will tell me of her increasing blindness, and her need to move to more supervised accommodation as her world closes daily around her.

A stark and sudden contrast to the endless vistas I enjoyed from the top of the Paekakariki hill road just a few minutes earlier. I will not forget it now.

He that is strucken blind cannot forget
The precious treasure of his eyesight lost.

- William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

Romeo (1.1.162)

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a quick succession of busy nothings

Winter has settled in and made herself at home, the skies remain still, but the temperature has plummeted. I've taken my winter coat from the closet and fear it will remain my constant companion now till at least the end of October.


Last weekend we pruned the rose vine under the pergola, heavily. It was just beginning to blossom when we left seven years ago and has flourish unattended since then: engulfing everything in its path, including the pergola, and the trellis which will need to be replaced.

Sujin is sleeping more now with the colder weather, so our outings are shorter and less frequent. I have taken advantage of this and busied myself indoors with planning and sourcing of trades people and suppliers for the refurbishing of the interior next autumn, Inshallah Meantime we've installed a home ventilisation system which ducts hot air from the roof cavity through the house raising the temperature and dehumidifying the air.

There has been an excellent concert , meals and outings with friend, but between the 'jigs and the reals' “Life, it seems, has become but a quick succession of busy nothings.” and I am counting the days till Anthea's return at the end of July.

Update: - 6th July, the NewLook Rose & Trellis

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Don't look now John . .

. . but it's finally happened. Suburban neurosis has set in! The challenging boundaries offered last year by the Sahara, the Himalayas' and the Serengeti have finally given way, not to soap operas, but only because I don't have a TV, but to vicariously living through diminishing horizons of other peoples blogs, downloaded news podcasts, talking to the baby as though she understood every word and: horror of horrors, writing letters to the editor.

This final stage, acting out, I believe it's called has finally tipped the balance. You see I was encouraged by a lead article in the local news paper, the Dominion Post, exploring issues, still unresolved, on the 40th anniversary of the Six Day War, and I felt moved to congratulate the editor. This morning, I find my letter published firmly along side the 'rantings' of one who was definitely not amused by the article. Needless to say, I wrote again, reinforcing my view and now am probably committed to the debate should others decide to buy in.

Oh well, at least it's better than talking to yourself!

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Who really calls the shots?

Three weeks ago I strained a mussel in my shoulder. 'Parents arm', the Physiotherapist called it, from picking up babies! Anyway it was still troubling me at church yesterday, so I decided to invite a little 'divine intervention' and went forward for prayer. "What would you like prayer for John". Father Steve asked. My arm, I thought to myself, but to my surprise I heard myself say. "for someone whose life may be in danger," As he laid his hands on my head to pray I had a very clear image, like a photo in my mind, of a young boy, 7 or 8 years old splashing in the surf of a sun drenched ocean beach. The person I was concerned about did have a little boy, but he was only 2 years old, so I dismissed the incident as a bit of a day dream and went on with rest of my day.

This morning, when I checked my friends blog site guess what was centre page. a photo of a boy, 7 or 8 years old splashing in the surf of a sun drenched beach and a note below it saying life was back to normal, what ever 'normal' is in Gaza!

Often we think of ourselves as puppeteers, masters of our own lives, of our own destiny, but perhaps there's someone behind the scene who really pulls the strings? Thanks be to God.

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Missing in action?

I don't think anyone who knows me would describe me as an emotional person: probably more of the pragmatist. However, over the last several days I've become increasingly anxious, and worried about the safety of someone I've never spoken with, written to or met.

Laila is a fellow blogger. A Palestinian mother with a 2 year old boy, living in Gaza and working as a freelance journalist for the Guardian, Washington Post and Aljazeera. Her blog started 2 years ago with the birth of her son Yousuf , and records (in a non political style) her life as a mother on her own (husband has refugee status in US so can not return to Gaza) living in a country that is under occupation, economically disadvantaged and just downrigh dangerous.

As a professional writer, Laila posts blog entries once, sometimes twice a day, depending on what's happening. Her last blog was posted more than 10 days ago and was written as an Israeli gun ship hovered right over her apartment and took out the next door building which housed a money exchange, raising it to the ground.

I guess she is typical of many 'ordinary citizens' that get caught up in political power games and if killed, would simply be referred to by the media as "collateral damage, militant or refugee". I found it easy,in the past, to remain objective about such human suffering. but it makes a difference if it's someone you know, or think you know.

As a grand parent I simply hope that the world Yousuf and Sujin inherit will have learned to get on with itself and value human rights above power. - Yeah, right!

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Another milestone

At last. It's happened. Sujin is on the move. Crawling! Well, it's more of a backways shuffle, but she's also leaned how to turn around, so she can navigate here way back to where she started, if she wants to - though getting stuck under the couch required some intervention from granddad



Oh . . . . how did I get here?


Hay - Im really getting stuck in here!

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First Anniversary

It was one year ago today that we set out from Southampton on our Off Road Odyssey , crossing the globe (overland) from west to east through some of the most remote and inhospitable places on the face of the planet. And we made it, unscathed!

Wonderful memories of Samarkand, The Gobi desert, Everest, the Serengeti and the Zambezi. To adapt a line from the Mastercard advertisement:-

Somethings are priceless. . . . for everything else, there's photographs

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Another milestone

Another tooth popped through this morning.
That's TWO down and eighteen more to go!!!

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Soulmates

I met William a couple of weeks ago. I don't know much about him, just a man at church, but I instantly liked him. He's about my own age and, like me, has just returned to NZ after a number of years absence. Like me he has been involved, during his time away, in international aid work, something or other in Bangladesh, for the World Bank for a couple of years, and has lived the rest of the time in the UK.

We met again today after church and the conversation went something like this;

Me: So, how long since you arrived back William?
William: Only a month, but I'm finding it harder to settler back than I thought I would.
Me: Do you feel guilty about that? as if you should just slip back into the space you left 5 years ago?
William: Actually, that's exactly how I do feel, guilty. But worse, i find my self not wanting to pick up where I left off and fighting against being enculturalised, kiwi-ised again.
Me: Would you go back again, if you could?
William: In a flash only it would be financial suicide. I'm too old to make up the financial ground I'd need to in order to live as well there, as I can here. The value of the NZ dollar you know.

Snap! I knew just how he felt, and it was good to know that someone else understood. That I wasn't abnormal, unpatriotic or a try-hard winging Pom. Just no longer the person I was seven years ago. And that's OK!

So I can sit here, sip my Tetley's and watch my Podcast of BBC Breakfast and the 10 O'clock News and feel perfectly normal!

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The only consistent thing about 'normal' is that it gets worse!!

Adapting from the life of 'adventurer extrordinair,' scaling Everest and canoeing down the Zambezi has not been without its challenges. Slowing down and learning to live at Sujins pace and coping with days characterised by endless interruptions has: I must admit it has had me on my toes!

Over the last several days however, I've been reading the blogs of two Palestinian women. Young mothers trying to cope with not only raising their children alone, but with living amid the confusion and chaos going on around them as Gaza's streets burn and are over run with armed checkpoints, indiscriminate gunfire and constant rocket bombardment. Writiing about the effect of all this on her young son,Yousef, Leila said,
"Yousef of course became more and more concerned as the day day passed, until I finally told him they were not firing, but rather making an enormous pot of popcorn outside that would fill the streets once it was done. At first he wasn't convinced, then he later remarked "mama, I don't really like this kind of popcorn!". When the firing died down, he ran into my room excitedly shouting: "mama, mama! I think the popcorn is done!!""

By comparison, that makes my job here in the peace and quiet of western suburbia seem relatively easy and my stress-ors rather insignificant, but the amazing thing about it all is our ability, as human beings, to adapt, just like Yousef did, and the way 'normal' becomes whatever is going on in your life at the time.

It also makes me aware of the frustrations Sujin must have, with so many thoughts and questions bouncing round in her little head, like gun fire, and no effective way of expressing them. Let's hope that the world she and Yousef inherit is better than the one in which their parents now struggle.

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The End of the Golden Weather

The prolonged summer we enjoyed is now over and autumn is well and truly with us. Because of this, our afternoon walks often find us at the local shopping centre. It is affectionately known by our family as 'The Inferno', ... somewhere you could imagine being consigned to for eternity if you died and had not lead a good life. It's retail mania gone manic and its claustrophobic arcades,its lack of natural light and its bland exterior well qualify it for the 'least imaginative architectural award for 2005.' It's Hell, but it's where Sujin and I make for on cold rainy days as its warm, its dry, there's plenty of 'buzz' and there's lots to look at. Good coffee too.
It's also an important part of her social development creating a familiarity with her environment as we stop and talk with acquaintances we meet, as we pass familiar land marks; the school, the church, park and library and as we simply sit and watch all the surrounding activity.

Whilst I'm sure all this could be achieved without visiting the Inferno, it will have to do till the good weather returns or till they build something better!

(apologies to Bruce Mason , NZ Playwright, for stealing his title)

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Shades of Gray

By comparison with me, Sujins mind is so uncluttered. Every situation she encounters is of equal worth and recorded, without prejudice or past experiences, at face value. Nothing is ever strange or weird or offensive. It just is, what ever it just is.

It was probably like that for me too at 6mths, but then it changed. When I was a young man, life still seemed un complicated, but in truth, things were simply either black, or white. If they were black I just disregarded them out of hand, and if they were white, I simply popped them away with the rest of my prejudices. Life scarcely skipped a beat no matter how complex the issue. It was easy, but the price was high. The prejudices of my world view had robbed life of it's mystery and it's awesome magic, a perspective Sujin is now helping me rediscover, with all its many shades of gray.

"Alas that Spring should vanish
with the rose!
That youth's sweet-scented
manuscript should close!
The Nightingale that in the
branches sang,
Ah, whence, and whither flown
again,who knows? Rubaiyat - Omar Khayyam

NB - First tooth broke through 4th May!!!

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The Kiwi Culture

Today I was exposed to my first, and hopefully my last, incident of gender discrimination. New Zealand is still at heart, a bit of a chauvinist society, usually we describe our culture as having a 'pioneering edge', but in truth, the term chauvinist is much more accurate. And 'blokes' caring for babies still don't fit into the local world view.

So when a 'boy racer' had to stop his souped-up old Chrysler Valliant so I could push Sujins pram across the crossing I was not all surprised to see him roll down his window and hear him shout, 'get off the road ya homo'

On reflection. I'm not sure if it was the pram, the tight jeans or both, but at least he didn't call me GANDDAD!

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But what lies beneath?

David Bowie and Madonna are past masters at it. The media call it reinventing yourself and it involves taking on a new persona, drastically altering the way you look and dress and maybe even having surgical procedures done too, so that you can re-present yourself as a new product to a new market.

For most of us non celebs, this is only something we read about in 3am, or similar publications that we browse in the doctors waiting room: perish the thought that any of us would admit to buying such puerile trash. You see, for the most part we adopt a hair style and choose the type of clothing we feel we look best in while we are still in our early teens and, apart from gaining weight,wrinkles and grey hair, we remain largely unchanged, appearance wise, till the day we die.

When my grandfather went to work at around 14 he wore his first suite, a style of clothing he then wore everyday till he died. At a similar age I, and my generation, adopted jeans, sneakers and t-shirts as our national costume and, whilst it is not something I wear everyday, it's still my default dress code setting. When todays 14 year olds become grandparents they will still have scruffy hair, ware a hoody and pants that carry the crutch at knee level and are weighted down by chunky silver chains.

But what lies beneath? Is it just external appearances that are important, or need we look deeper?

With this being the first year of my seventh decade I've been using my changed circumstances (retirement, relocating back to NZ after seven years, becoming grandad, rather than dad etc, etc), to look beneath. To try and see objectively, if I can, who I am and how I fit into the space I (and others) have unthinkingly moulded for me over the past 60 years. To have, if you will, an internal makeover and possibly discard some things that no longer serve me well, perhaps even take on some that are more in keping with my current neads? But what's inside is far harder to identify honestly and objectively, and still harder to alter than either my hair style (if I had any left) or the type of clothing I choose to wear.

So, whilst this process has unearthed more questions, at this stage, than answers, it has made me hugely aware of the influence I will have on the development of Sujin's world view, her values and her attitudes and maybe, understanding this will be key to my own internal make-over.

Anyone for charades?

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Autumn

I lay there on the soft grass and looked through the branches of a not too mighty Oak at the clear cloudless sky above. Leaves at the furthest end of the branches were just beginning to turn. Golds, reds and browns, all heralding the coming of autumn. The neighboring Pohutukawa, an evergreen, had lost all of its summer blossoms and was now a tight mat of succulent dark green leaves, like an animal taking on body mass to nourish it over the coming winter months.

During the past seven years, the sharp contrasts of the Northern hemisphere seasons have become, for me, a calendar. Four distinct twelve week cycles that, despite global warming are a constant reminder that we are part of a greater mystery. and I shall miss them.

Unaware of my reminiscences, baby sat there in the pram, gooing and enjoying the late afternoon warmth. Children are so uncomplicated.

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Another milestone

Sujin has a ride-on. It's a small chair and toy tray, like a car really with wheels and a space for your legs to hang through to the ground. Several weeks ago her legs became long enough to touch the ground and she soon mastered backward movement. This was rather good as I only had to point her in the direction I didn't want her to go, and she was sure never to get there. However, today she discovered forward (and sideways) movement. This means she can run away from me. But worse still, she can now get to the table and reach things from it! I fear my troubles may have only just begun. Oh well. such is life.

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Some people are so shallow

With no baby duties today (Sunday) found me, once again, in the small dark church where I spent Easter. Can't remember a word of the sermon, but the the Motet (Handle) was very moving and the Voluntary, J S Bach's Toccata and Fuge in D, absolutely divine.(click on the link and have a listen)

Who me, Shallow?

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The voice of an angel

No, not Charlotte Church. For several days now Sujin has been discovering her voice. At first it was just gurgles and blowing raspberries. Then came the unintelligible sentences with accompanying facial expressions and, just incase you were in any doubt, a rising inflection to underscore the fact that it was a question. Well today we added volume to the mix. We were out walking, well I was doing the walking, and SJ was in her push chair talking. As we entered the shopping complex she quietened momentarily, the ambient noise in the mall quite drowning her 'singing.' It was then she discovered the volume control and, raising her voice several decibels, she began competing. Singing at the top of her little voice and smiling.

A passing mother looked in at her, smiled at me and said," Yi know, yi cant wait for them to start talking, then as soon as they do, you spend the rest of your life trying to keep them quiet." Oh well, win some lose some.

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The Clash of the Titans

I'm not sure if babies today are more energetic than they were in the 70's, but all this baby minding has me run ragged, and I'm only a part timer! No night shift for this old feller. No wonder traditional wisdom had been to have your family while you were young enough to cope. However modern lifestyles now mean that one in five women world wide have their first baby at age 35, or above. And there are many benefits associated with this trend such as a more established lifestyle and greater affluence.

However from the other side of the fence Nancy London, Canadian author of 'Hot Flushes, Warm Bottles' described this phenomena as 'The Clash of the Titans,
When Maternity meets Menopause'
Well, as a granddad I've never experienced either of the above, but I certainly notice my ebbing energies being challenged by Sujin's growing enthusiasm to chew up each day.

Now, what was that story called again, the Hare and the, oh yes, Tortoise, thats it.

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Working from home

One of the things I like best about working from home is the casual dress code and relaxed work ethic. So today, like most days, I arrived at work at 7am, unshaven and in my dressing gown, collected my work assignment, (baby) and returned to my office, the bed! Nappies, bottle, winding and stories were dispatched from our breakfast meeting agenda over next next hour or two along with; making my own breakfast, showering, tidying up, putting out the garbage, putting on my clown suit (to keep baby amused), phoning doctor, chasing neighbors cat away from scratching in the garden, and putting off any un necessary activity that may divert my attention from the fact that she might; eat the flowers, pull over the standing lamp or throw up on the Persian rug! Of course, all this would be so much simpler if we shared a common language and I didn't have to present several individually viable alternatives to each of babies frustrated shouts for attention or eye rolling goo and gurgle that, by it's intonation, implies a question to which I should know the answer.

The above then becomes a recurring module, which (apart from brief sleep times) replays itself, with minor variations, till my relief (mother) returns to takeover at 5.00pm. Then with shaking hand and pronounced twitch in the left eye, I pass baby back.

How come you're still in your dressing gown dad?

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Now that's a real job

To be perfectly honest, I'm really only a part time child minder. I actually get evenings and weekends off to recharge my batteries, so this Easter weekend I've been doing a little socialising. Nothing too hectic but it's great to meet other adults outside of Plunket, baby doctors or supermarket checkout assistants. My biggest challenges on such occasions is justifying my existence to new people I meet. Though some think being a 'solo granddad' is pretty cool (even if a little crazy) others just look blankly at one: as though one had two heads! Ok it gets the sympathy vote but it doesn't generate a lot of street cred(abiliy)' No one takes you very seriously. Like, oh yeah granddad, get a hair cut and get a real job!

I wonder if I should try upgrading the title from child minder to Research Associate in the field of Child Development and Human Relations."

Mmmmm, now thats something you could be taken seriously about!

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A sign of the times?

It hung there,far above my head. A thin brush stroke of white extending unbroken in the still Wellington sky from as far as the eye could see in either direction. It was only the vapor stream of a commercial jet, but it's such a rare sight here in Wellington as thick moving cloud and blustery winds (the normal default setting for a NZ sky) usually disburse them the instant they form. It was a rare sight, and I watched it hang there, seemingly forever.
Friends who are obviously more attentive than I told me that they too had noticed the phenomena regularly over the last 6-8 weeks of clear breathless weather we have been enjoying thanks to Global Warming: and I remembered the unseasonably cold rainy days of our summer Christmas a mere 12 weeks ago. Writing from Macedonia today, missionary friends there told of their first ever snow-less winter which has seen the level of beautiful lake Ohrid drop by more than a meter, cutting drastically that countries hydro power generation capabilities. Another of natures calling card condemning George W's (and Australia's) refusal to ratify the Kyoto Protocol. At one level I must say I am enjoying our extraordinarily late summer, but at the same time I despair at the legacy we are leaving to Sujin and her generation.

To borrow a line from a Dylan song,"when will the ever learn. . . .when will they e-ver learn?"

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A Senior moment

He sat there, behind the organ in the dimly lit church stripped of it's adornments and bared for the Good Friday passion. He was an older man, perhaps in his 80's and distinguished looking in his academic gown and hood, his gray flannels and matching silver hair. He stood, shuffled across the Chancery area toward the choir, gesturing as he did, for them to stand. As he positioned himself at rostrum he raised his hands authoritatively and the first notes of their choral offering rose to the fill the small parish church.
It was a grand occasion and he had filled this role many times in the past. Afterwards, the reading of the Passion began and he returned to his darkened corner at the organ bench. At the end of Passion, a lenghty section of St John's gospel, the priest and the congregation sat and the choir stood. Eyes darted fertilely. Like star wars lasers they searched the darkness of the church coming to rest, as one, on the sleeping figure of the organist. Throats cleared and music scores rustled but alas, the old man continued his slumber unaware of their awkward gazes. Finally a would be invisible chorister tip toed across the Chancel area, arranged the old mans music and smiled as the organist re focused himself, completely unaware of his momentary lapse.

Choristers 1, Organist 0 - the game continued.

PS -- He redeemed himself tonight with the most brilliant 15 minute organ Voluntary at the end of the vigil mass. Well done!

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Easter Greetings

It's Easter. The first in seven years where I can not smell fresh blossom on the trees, see spring flowers breaking through the hard ground of winter past, or hear the sound of a Cuckoo or a Robin. Instead, the late summer days here in NZ turn my thoughts toward the cold months still to come. To preparing winter soups and casseroles, enjoying an early evening beside the fire or wrapping up warm to walk along a windswept west coast beach feeling the salt spray on my face. These are the memories of Easter in youth and they, just like Easters blossoms, remind me that spring is on its way.

Meanwhile I'll take my copy of Bach's St Matthew's' Passion out of it's plastic CD case and a nice bottle of Merlot from the shelf and reflect on the Easter message and the joys of spring.

Happy Easter

Ps: The photo is of Spanish penitents going to confession during Holy Week as we saw them when we were living in Altea.

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And not a safety pin in sight!

I'm sure babies haven't changed that much in the last 40 years or so, but the procedures and practices surrounding their daily care certainly have. And the vast array of accessories one needs these days just to operate one. Once upon a time you just piled baby in the back seat of the Ute along with everything else, and headed off into the great blue NZ yonder. Well, at least that's my memory of it all - but as I have said earlier, I'm new to all this.
So there I was this morning heading off to the doctor with one small baby and more gear than I took to Everest Base Camp, or on Safari in deepest (darkest) Africa. We could have survived out there on the plains of the Hutt Valley for a month or more had we got lost. Then half way to the surgery it struck me - did I have and safety pins, how on earth would i cope with a nappy change?

Oh, yes - babies don't require pins these days, do they. Well, at least I learned something today.

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I'll get by with a little help . . .

Patchy day today. Weather and baby! Not one of Sujin's best as she is beginning to feel the push of her emerging teeth and is inclined to be a bit grizzly. However we are making excellent progress with the eye-hand coordination since we discovered hands, and rusks, about this time last week. We've now discovered the hand, rusk and mouth combination. This opens up an infinitely more satisfying scenario but there is still the question of orientation to master as the rusk tends to arrive at mouth on a vertical rather than a horizontal plane. This, as you can imagine, is the cause of much frustration and anxiety for a beginner, and needs grandparental intervention to complete a successful docking routine.

Who says grand parents are no use!

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New Horizons

The unexpected always adds colour to the day, and today was no exception. An appointment reminder call from Plunket (yes, I'd forgotten) catapulted me into the shower and out of the door in record time. (Neanderthal man to genius in 10.4 seconds - remember the Kellogg's TV add?) A chance to drive a real car (not a truck) and to socialise and talk to other adults, even if it was only about babies, seemed to be the best game in town. And it was! I was totally energised by the social contact and baby was back in time for her mid morning nap. A 'win,win' for us both.

I'm now holding my breath for the next excursion. The pediatrician on Thursday. It's not a very big horizon but it is a horizon we can both travel toward. Who knows, today the doctor, tomorrow - the library???

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Looking through new eyes

My garden is not the greatest. Just a few roses over the pergola and some shade plants in a border area along the edge of the decking, but Sujin has discovered it and is fascinated by it. She sits, for long moments, taking in every aspect of each flower and leaf. Examining the big Dahlia flower heads and looking carefully at the wee daisy bush that is growing in a tub beside the trellis.
It's made me look again at things around me, that time and familiarity have given me to take for granted. Shadows dancing across the deck, clouds forming and moving over the sky and the way the wisteria moves in the breeze.

I think sometimes we feel we have so much to teach children but I find I'm learning so much too.

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Palm Sunday

Today is Palm Sunday. In the secular world perhaps the least publicised of any of the Christian feasts. It doesn't have the commercial pull of Christmas shopping or the warm fuzzies of the Good Friday Easter bunny, but the message of Palm Sunday is perhaps more profound than either.
Jesus enters war torn Jerusalem on a donkey. Pilot, the symbol of Roman authority and might would have pranced in along the same road on a white stallion accompanied by legions of troops and the cheering of the gathered crowds. The comparison presents a satire playing off humility and individual weakness against power and corporate strength. Two thousand years later Jerusalem is still war torn, the Roman empire has vanished into the pages of history but, Jesus lives.

The lesson of Palm Sunday is the message of David & Goliath: that we, the little people, week and powerless as we seem, have the ability through that weakness, like Jesus, to effect enormous change on the world around us. More even than the Goliath oil barons and coprorate giants! (See yesterdays blog)

Yea, the little people!

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And on the seventh day God rested - Yeah right!

Off duty. A chance to relax, or so I thought! Then Gina sat me down to watch Al Gore's lecture, An Inconvenient Truth. It disturbed me, not because of anything It said but because I'd learned along time ago that it's not the things I know I don't know that get me into trouble, but the things I don't know that I don't know.
One of he things I didn't know I didn't know was the serious effects that Global Warming is having on our climate till we visited southern Nepal last September and were horrified at the extent of the flooding we saw there and in northern India. Oh, it made world headlines, for a day or two, but the story vanished from public view much more quickly, it would seem, that the devastating effects of the flood waters. We had come to Nepal following an overland journey from Asia minor which took us through Uzbekistan. A tragic country where man's clumbsy intervention in nature through weapons testing, industrial projects and fertilizer runoffs both before and after the collapse of the Soviet Union, had all but dried up what was the worlds 4th largest inland lake, the Aral Sea.

The other thing I didn't know that I didn't know, and this was never explicitly suggested in the lecture, was that the Gore/Bush battle for the Whitehouse in 2000 was a battle of such apocalyptic proportions. The battle of the oil barons vs greens campaigner. I wonder how the Oil Barrons won?

Some day off, my head is spinning. Oh for a simple mind numbing day with the baby again. Roll on Monday.

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We're on a roll!

Another big day for little Miss Milestone and a perfect one weather wise. Blue skys, no wind and temperatures in the mid 20's. Sujin's new found fascination with the hands continue with their use now extending to gaining ones attention. A gentle tug at the collar or a poke in the arm lets you know, in no uncertain terms, that your mind (or gaze) has wandered and that she no longer has your full and undivided attention. Language is also beginning to play a part in the process too with much more vocal activity than before. These certainly are exciting times and it's not only baby whose learning new skills. My own internal time clock has slowed down and no longer races onto the next thing on my list. I'm beginning to see the world around me differently and am enjoying doing things at her pace rather than mine.

Who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks!

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Sometines being helpful just isn't

Isn't is funny. From day one we strive to encourage children to become independent then, as soon as they are, we wish they weren't. Today Sujin learnt all about helping granddad. First she learned to help granddad put the spoon in her mouth - along with her hand and very often, her bib as well. Not helpful. With this new epiphany about the use and purpose of hands she also learned how to help by smearing rusk all over her face and by spilling Tommee Tippee (the water cup) all over her front. I can't wait till she learns how to wipe her face & hands, clean up the floor and wash her own sweater.

Now that would be helpful!

PS - at 14:48 NZ standard time Sujin also learnt how to roll over. From her front onto her back. Well done Sujin, a milestone day in so many ways!

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And you Sir, are. . . ?

With the increasing tendency in our society to marry and have children much later in life - then to re marry (or not) and start again, it's often difficult to know the father from the grandfather. It seams this problem perplexes others two but till today, I've never been too sure how to find out with out sounding impertinent. However, a lady who seemingly also wondered simply popped her head into Su-Jins pram during our afternoon walk today and asked me, ", , , and what does this little beauty call you?" So totally PC for an older lady, not a hint of assumed gender of the child, or of my part in his/her progeny. Totally disarmed I simply said, 'Granddad" The big smile that followed suggested I'd given the answer she hoped for.

Dam - I thought I looked much younger than that!

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Because I'm special

Just like the Grandfather in the Werthers Originals add, today I introduced my grand daughter to a slice of my past. Something I remember, made me feel special as a child. Rusks! However, unlike the Grandfather in the add, I wasn't moves by generosity, love and a sweet tooth, but rather by the fact that Su-jin has begun teething! It's another change to take into the daily mix and naturally, she loves them and I imagine they are now a regular part of her diet. At least for the next few years.

During our afternoon walk I cut through the boulevard of mature trees (not sure what kind but they're big old and leafy) that line the boundary of the Hutt Recreation grounds and stopped to watch a group of secondary school children enjoying their annual sports day. The event that caught my eye was the 20 aside 'Tug of War'. It was a very serious moment. the supervising teacher tied the traditional hankie n the middle of the rope, positioned the teams and said,'take the strain.' Both teams repositioned their footing, leaned back to take the strain on the rope, then SNAP! The rope broke and all 40 aspiring athletes fell to a tangled mess of legs, arms and uncontrollable giggling and laughing. I'm sure they will all remember the occasion as much as Su-jin will remember her first Rusk.

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A hard day at the nursery

My first day as full time care giver is over and I'm exhausted.
I feel I've never done so little or, at the same time, worked so hard. Babies don't seem to do much but when you're not attending to their immediate needs (and there are plenty of them) you're racing to clean up and put away after them to get ready for then next session before they wake up. It's all go. The new thing in the daily mix today (babies needs change daily as they grow) was to learn to drink water from a cup. And we did! Tommee Tippee is now greeted with chubby out stretched arms and goldfish like gestures of the mouth. We can pick him up but as yet, can't work out how to dock with the mother ship! I guess it will only be time and practice that make that link for her.

A calm clear day again, weather wise, and at a personal level I discovered Bach's Leipzig Chorale Preludes. So intricately structures yet at the same time, so simple and so restful. Just what I need after a hard day at the nursery.

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At the bay

I arrived a few minutes early just to renewed my long standing acquaintance with The Bay. Where once small wooden houses and beach front stores lined the street, cafe's tumbled out onto the pavement and casually clad patrons enjoyed the summer sun and the Marlborough Riesling. Even though Catherine Mansfield would have scarcely recognised the social landscape of Days Bay, the soft curve of the 'Crescent Bay', the bush clad hills behind it and the sparkle of sunlight on the water were unmistakable. I breathed in the warm salt air, crossed the road to van Halgan's studios for a suitable birthday gift, then walked the few meters to the corner to meet friends for lunch at the Cobar. It was Robyn's 55th birthday. Her first since her husband Timmy died suddenly last June and we all wanted to share it with her, here in this special spot. And so we did!
As you will have gathered (from my loquacious pros) it was once again a 'cracker day'. No cloud, no wind and not too hot either: I notice things like that at my age. I was pleased too with the gift I chose. A small ceramic Koru. A nice symbol of hope for someone stepping out into a new life and a especially fitting reminder of Tim's Maori heritage.

Fine wine, good food and warm friendships and a day at the bay, An unbeatable combination.

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NZ Newspapers shares sky rocket

Today the readership of the Auckland Herald incremented by one: at 16:00 NZ standard time, Sujin Olivia Lee (age 5 1/2 months) browsed the property supplement, crumpled the sporting section and eat her way through the weekend magazine supplement. Otherwise, Saturday 24th March was in all respects, an eventless yet pleasant enough day. Another perfect late summers day, cloudless and windless so after a late 'Full English' and a browse of the BBC web-page I applied 4 coats of low sheen sealer to the front steps, reloaded some operational programs onto my Mac (see yesterday's blog) and wondered if I will now have to by a daily copy of the Herald for our young avid reader.

PS - Discovered the local supermarket stocks Tetley's (Smooth) English Ale. Just like the brew I so enjoyed regularly at The Bell, Maidenhead. Cheers lads!

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And in the middle of the garden was a tree. . . .

The apple looked so tempting, juicy even, and it came with a FREE 12 month worldwide parts and labour warrantee, How could I refuse. But if Adam had have bitten into my apple (mac) today he would have discovered, like me, that its rosy exterior was just a front for the cancor and worm that lay beneath. Sure the parts and labour were free, but Magnum mac here in Wellington NZ (God's own) laced the transaction with an analysis fee,a data retrieval fee and a re installation charge bringing the total cost of a FREE replacement (faulty) hard drive to $NZ300. Mind you, they were kind enough to reduce their padded charges by $60 down to $240 following my righteous tirade. Like Adam, I discovered all that glitters in not gold, and like Adam, may they discover the eternal consequences of their sin. Bastards!

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Morning came, the second day

And on the second day, man toiled in the garden. . . .again!
Another extraordinary autumn day. Clear skies, no wind and remarkable warm so the day began with a homage to the water blaster and a fierce attack on the fences (covered in mold), under the eves and all the exterior walls of the house. North, south, east and west, which ever way you look,the house is pristine and I'm ahead of my target to be free of all outdoor jobs by the end of the week. There is still the 'monster' rose to thrash into shape and some pruning and transplanting in the front garden, but all that can wait till winter and a long weekend.
Exhausted but board, I treated my self to another dose of Hugh Grant in Music & Lyrics. It wasn't the same as seeing it with the Pixie - but I enjoyed it. As did the other three people in the theater!

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In the begining

God might very well have created the world, and all that dwelt there in, in a mere seven days but simply getting the house in shape convinces me that He and I are not in the same league!
Since Anthea left just under a month ago I've spent most of most of my days on the wrong end of a paint brush. However, the decking is now mould free, dirt free and stained with a preservative oil. The windows have been thoroughly sanded, scraped primed, under and top coated and everything is in order for the winter. Next week I begin my one on one training as 'Supa Gran'caring for Su-Jin in tandum with Ciara before my solo debut when she returns to work on Monday 2nd April.
I'm happy (though feeling very dis connected with Anthea so far away) and enjoying the extraordinary bout of good (fine and calm) weather we have had for the last 7 weeks. Perhaps climate change is not all bad!

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SuJin's First Blog Entry

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The Odyssey continunes . . . . .

Here we are back in NZ and still not settled. We're here to mind Sujin for the next 12 months to allow Ciara to continue her job for another year: though Anthea will be doins some of the minding from UK (March-August). Then ???????

Watch this space!

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