6.3 my ass.

I was at work on Tuesday afternoon, on the 8th floor of my building on Cathedral Square. I was writing an e-mail when suddenly everything started shaking. I'm used to this - we still get aftershocks all the time. I waited for it to stop. It didn't stop. Bookcases started falling over. I dove under my desk and held on.

Gareth was at home with Quinn. He had just put him down for his afternoon nap and was tucking into his lunch. Everything started shaking. Gareth tried to get to Quinn's room but was thrown around and couldn't get there before the shaking stopped.

When I came out from under my desk, every single shelving unit in our office was on its side, files everywhere. People were screaming and wailing. I looked out the window and saw that the top of the Cathedral was missing. The fire alarm was going off. Everyone was looking around in a daze. Someone said we need to get out. Someone else said no, we need to stay.

Gareth got to Quinn and saw that the bookshelf in his room had fallen over, hitting the edge of his cot, which had also moved over about a foot. Somehow, baby Quinn was still sleeping. Gareth picked him up.

There were three of us left in the office. While we had stood there in a stupor, everyone else had evacuated! We suddenly realised we were the last three there and headed for the stairwell. On our way down, we stepped over the broken glass from windows that had blown out. Eight stories is a lot of stairs. I ran down as fast as I could and tried very hard not to think about what would happen if an aftershock hit right now.

Gareth heard our neighbour calling for him and went outside with Quinn. Other neighbours were wobbling out of their houses, getting their bearings. Windows were broken, stone cladding had been shaken loose.

I got to the bottom of the stairwell (finally!) and ran out into the street. There was broken glass everywhere. Someone was shouting at me but it took a second to register. It was one of my co-workers and she was saying, "Lindsay GET AWAY FROM THE BUILDING!" Ahh, right, yes. I jogged over to her and joined everyone from my work. Lots of hugging, crying, frantic dialling of cell phones that would not connect. I kind of just stood there and stared. Someone said I looked really pale.

Gareth helped the neighbour get her car keys out of her house (she didn't want to go in alone, get stuck under falling debris, and never be found again). Then he spoke with the neighbours on the other side, and eventually joined a group that was forming across the street. They were setting up camp. It was some time before he was able to retrieve his phone from the mess in the kitchen and find that I had been trying to call and text him. He had no idea the earthquake had been as big as it was or caused so much damage until he saw my text, "the top of the cathedral fell off."

I was walking home with 2 of my workmates who also live on the south side of town. I needed to get to Gareth and Quinn. My workmate's 13 year old had gotten out of school early and she had no idea where he was. It was a very nervous time. We walked quickly. We saw liquifaction and rubble and rips in the ground where the earth had broken open.

I thought about taking photos with my phone, but couldn't do it. It was weird - I knew I'd want to remember this, and that I'd want to show Gareth what I was seeing, but I could not snap any photos. It would have been like taking a photo of a corpse or something. Too wrong. I took no photos.

I finally got a text from Gareth saying he and Quinn were ok. It didn't make my need to see them any less urgent though.

It took almost 2 hours to walk home I think, although I'm not really sure. When I had about a kilometre to go, it occurred to me that I could hitchhike. I stuck my thumb out and someone stopped, like, instantly. She drove me up the road a ways until she had to turn, and I got out and walked the rest of the way.

Gareth and Quinn were in the neighbours' yard. They were putting a tent up. Our family hug at that moment ranks in the top 5 of All Time Best Hugs.

The house looked pretty bad.

How bad do things have to move to shake sliding doors out of their frame?

We're going to have to buy some new glasses.

We have a lot of cracks like these.

These bricks should be on our house.

This is not good.

You can break our photo frame, but you can't break our love!!

One thing I've taken from this is that the Richter Scale is total bullshit. When I heard on the radio that this one was a 6.3, I thought it was a mistake. If the September earthquake was a 7.1, this one should have been an 8 or more. There was so much more damage. People died. Gareth points out that this earthquake was much more shallow and much closer to town than the September one, and that is why 6.3 was so much more tragic than 7.1.

If I had gone for a walk at lunchtime or if Gareth had come to town a little later for Quinn's lunchtime feed, things might have ended very differently for us. When we finally got power again, we were very touched to find how many friends had sent us messages on facebook and that friends we haven't even met yet had posted on our blog. Thank you for your kind words and thoughts. We are doing fine.

Blog update

Freshening things up around here...

We decided that the plain green header could use some livening up. So we added a lovely photo that I took from the top of the Port Hills, looking over Lyttelton Harbour on a sunny morning. Ahh, love that view. That's better than plain green, I'd say.

I've also updated the links on the side of the page. The longer we're here, the more great things we're finding. So I thought we should link you to them. Lindreth: keeping you linked.

We just discovered yesterday that Blogger keeps track of 'stats' for the blog, and we can see how many people have visited, where they've come from, and what they're reading. Yeah, that's right, we're watching you, loyal reader from Denmark. (Halløj!)

We heard this really hilarious/awesome song yesterday and I really, really wanted to upload a sound file to the blog to share it with you. So I did some research and discovered that it is possible to do this, but it just seemed too complicated. Maybe it's not complicated at all, and maybe I'm just a bit feeble-minded. But the bottom line is there will be no sound uploads at this time.

So do this: go to iTunes and spend 99 cents to download Coco Solid's 'Girl From Where?' We think it's worth at least this much to hear this kiwi woman rap, "the best rapper in the world's a girl from New Zealand." Also this line: "I told you I'm the boss, man I'm Angela and Tony." There just aren't enough Who's the Boss? references in music these days, don't you agree?

All things bloggy

Been quiet on the blog front for the last few weeks... let me catch you up.

1. Picnics.

The weather has been so nice, we've headed out for a picnic or two. We're picnicking kind of people. I suppose we probably had the picnicking spirit inside of us all along, but it seems it didn't really bubble to the surface until we moved to New Zealand. We love a picnic. Got time for that.

2. Taxation frustration.

As a U.S. citizen, I'm supposed to lodge a federal tax return no matter where I live and no matter that I've earned no money in the United States. Although foreign income is subject to U.S. taxation, it won't matter for us because our income does not reach that level that requires sharing with Uncle Sam. That's what I gather from reading the very riveting "Publication 54 (2010)" (link to IRS website). But the information available on the IRS website is incredibly dense and difficult to wade through, so it's entirely possible that I've misunderstood a key point.

Even though we won't owe any tax (I think), I'm obliged to file anyway (I think). As a former green-card-holder, Gareth has no such obligation. He technically abandoned his legal resident status once he was out of the country for 1 year.

Last year we were very keen to file a tax return because we were expecting a big refund. We had worked only the first three months of 2009, and were entitled to refunds of virtually all the tax that had been withheld. So that was nice.

For 2010, I received one late payment from my former employer in the form of a retirement account payout. The feds kept $750 of it, and we think we should be getting that back. So we're kind of keen to file again. It seems like such a pain this time around though. Maybe it seemed easier to me last year because Gareth took care of it. Now I'm in charge (how did this happen?!) and feeling rather daunted by the whole thing. It doesn't help that the IRS website contains so much information that you could just hold your finger on the scroll down button for an hour and not get through it all. And I'm not talking about the whole website; I'm just talking about the page(s) relating to U.S. citizens living abroad. Insane. There is a form I'm supposed to file called TD F 90-22.1 "Report of Foreign Bank and Financial Accounts." Seriously. How many forms does the IRS publish that they have to call one of them TD F 90-22.1?!

You can understand my frustration. This segues nicely to our next topic:

3. Beer.

You know what's really yummy? Three Boys IPA. We wish this stuff did not cost $7.50 a bottle. Because it's delicious. And it's brewed locally. Like really, really locally - less than a kilometre from our house.

Gareth is enjoying one right now. It's his little reward for running 50K this morning. Go Gareth, it's your birthday.

If you would like to do something nice for us, you can send us some of this beer.

4. He's off!

Big news on the parenting front: our little man is crawling! There must be very few things cuter than a little baby bum crab-walking across the grass, or the living room carpet, or anywhere really. So. Freaking. Cute. If it is even possible, we adore him even more.