Election season

New Zealand has national elections in just two weeks' time.  Unlike in America where people are campaigning more than a year before the election, things here didn't really get into full swing until a couple weeks ago when the Rugby World Cup ended.  Naturally.

So we've been soaking up a lot of political news lately and trying to educate ourselves about the candidates and the issues.  As the Flight of the Conchords said, "We're talkin about the issues, but we're keepin it funky ...."

Basically, there are two main parties: National (right-leaning) and Labour (left-leaning).  John Key is the head of the National party and, as his party has the most seats in parliament, he's the current prime minister. 

Incidentally, how's this for the "Only in New Zealand" file?  I met the prime minister a few weeks ago at an outdoor mall.  Thank goodness we had our camera with us! 

me and John

I've never met a prime minister before so I was a little flustered and couldn't manage anything clever to say.  So all I said was, "I'm a new kiwi" and "this is Quinn" (he was on my back).  John replied, "that's nice."  I didn't tell him that I don't plan to vote for him.

The other major party, Labour, is led by Phil Goff, who we both find pretty irritating.  He lost my vote when he appeared on a current affairs/comedy show called "7 Days".  Although dressed casually in jeans and meant to be joking around with the panelists, he seemed totally stiff and insincere and not funny.  Our local MP is a member of the Labour party, but we've not heard anything from her or seen any sign that she's done anything for us in the nearly two years we've lived in her electorate.  So while I'm definitely a left-leaning person, Labour leaves me with an empty, unsatisfied feeling.

The third most popular party is the Green party, who are currently polling at about 10% of the vote.  This seems amazing to me.  Compare the American Green Party, whose candidate for the 2008 presidential election didn't even get to be on half the states' ballots, and who managed to win only about 160,000 votes (according to her Wikipedia page, anyway.  Honestly I'd never heard of the woman until I just Googled this).

I'm leaning Green this election.  Apart from their policies, of course, I like that a Green party representative handed out packets of organic lettuce seeds at our local farmers' market instead of pamphlets. 

I like that the Greens call their website "the frog blog".

Although not an official act of the party, I also like this billboard stunt one of their members pulled.  This was all over the news just today.  Someone (or, more likely, many someones) defaced hundreds of National party election posters by putting stickers on them.  The stickers said "The Rich Deserve More" or "Drill it, Mine it, Sell it."  It was done to look like part of the poster.  Of course I don't condone vandalism, but I thought this was cleverly done.

Then there is a buffet of other, smaller parties.  None are polling at more than 5% of the vote right now.  That means the only way a smaller party can be represented in Parliament is if one of their members wins an electorate seat. 

One of those little parties is New Zealand First.  I understand they're pretty far-right-leaning.  They've got a guy running in our electorate.  His name is Dennis O'Rourke.  He recently parked a van outside our house and started talking through a a megaphone.  Two of our neighbours stood nearby, listening politely.

Lonely campaigner

We were out back doing some gardening when suddenly we heard a loud voice delaring, "I'm for educating our children!"  But who isn't for that, really? 

Hokitika

Friday was Canterbury Anniversary Day, a public holiday for those of us living in Canterbury.  (All the provinces have their own anniversary day, which is their special day off work and no one else's.)  Since it was a 3-day weekend, we decided to get away.  We had not gotten away for some time, and considered we were well overdue.

Deciding where to go was a challenge in itself.  We wanted to take both the boy and the pup - this would be a holiday for the whole pack.  This means we (1) need a bach/holiday home that allows pets, and (2) need it to be within a reasonable driving distance.  We wanted to go far enough away that we felt "away", but not so far that Quinn had a meltdown in the car.

The west coast is perfect for us.  It's about 3 hours by car, with a perfectly placed tea/lunch/potty break halfway there in Arthur's Pass.  And I was able to find a cheap 3-bedroom holiday home in Hokitika, about a block from the beach.  All good.

So you expect a bach to be "rustic" and this one certainly met expectations.  I think the house was quite possibly made of cardboard.  Not that it blew over or leaked or anything, but you could see seams in the walls and it just didn't feel altogether solid.  But that's ok; it was shelter.  And it had a mighty heating device:

Provider of heat

This monster is a "multi-fuel burner" - it burns wood and coal.  Even though it's late spring here, we fired this baby up our first night in the bach.  There was some smoke.  The smoke alarm sounded.  We had to open all the windows, and the back door.  It was good fun.

Incidentally, I never saw such a thing before moving to New Zealand, but wood burners are quite common for heating houses here.  Lucky for me, Gareth comes from a country that is also into archaic forms of heating and was able to work the thing. 

So we've never heard anyone rave about Hokitika or anything, and the west coast in general is kind of the butt of a joke most of the time.  I guess that's because there aren't many people who live there.  It's kind of the wild west of New Zealand.   But despite this (or maybe because of it?) Gareth and I are really drawn to the place. 

We were a bit slack with the camera during this holiday and didn't take any pictures of the town itself.  Imagine a small, tidy town, situated alongside a beach, with a cute clock tower in the middle.  That's Hokitika.  No McDonald's or KFC to be found here, but it does have a Millie's Cafe (good homemade almond slice!).

On Saturday, we took a drive to see some of the sights.  There was a helpful map in our bach that highlighted all the local attractions.  One of them was called the "Kowhitirangi Incident Memorial".  This piqued my interest.  A memorial for an "incident"?  Tell me more.  We included this on our brief itinerary.

Gareth had heard that the Hokitika Gorge was also worth a look, so we planned to stop there as well. 

Off we went.

Driving around westland is awesome because there is almost no one else on the roads, and when you do see someone, they usually wave hello.  We got waves from other drivers and from one cyclist.  Usually they wave as you pass each other coming out of a one-lane bridge, as if to say "Thank you for yielding and saving us both from a head-on collision while crossing this crazy narrow bridge, mate!"

These are the kinds of things you see while driving around westland:

farmy

rural rugby pitch

We got to the Incident Memorial and accidently drove right past it.  One quick 3-point turn and we were there, ready to learn about this Incident. 

Turns out the Kowhitirangi Incident involved a mass murder in 1941.  A guy named Stanley Graham went nuts and shot 7 people.  There was a huge manhunt for him which lasted 12 days.  There's a plaque at the memorial that tells the whole story, which we read with interest.  If you want to learn more, you don't have to travel to the west coast of New Zealand; you can just read about it here on Wikipedia.

Having had our fill of information about the Incident, we carried on to the Hokitika Gorge.  It was quite nice.  Here are some photos:

"maximum capacity 6 persons"

Isn't it pretty?  It's that same impossibly aqua-coloured water we saw at Lake Tekapo.  Something to do with glacial run-off.  The result: Hokitika Gorge puts the gorge in gorgeous :-)

Airplane

This week I had to fly to Auckland for work.  The first time we undertook air travel in New Zealand, we could not believe how pain free it was.  Years later the amazement is barely diminished.  So I tell you again: flying in New Zealand is a pleasure.  An absolute pleasure. 

This is especially true if you fly with Air New Zealand.  Here are the Top 5 reasons you should always fly with Air New Zealand (this is an unpaid advertisement!).

1.  Hassle-free check-in. 

It's all automated.  You walk up to a kiosk, you check in.  There are people there to help if you need it, but you don't need it.  Because it's easy.

2. The Koru Lounge. 

After you've checked in, mosey on over to the Koru lounge to wait for your flight to board.  Ok, you have to be (or be with) a Koru Club member to hang in the Koru lounge, and I understand it costs $800 the first year and $400 every year thereafter if you want to join.  So it's not cheap.   I'm not actually a member myself, but my Wellington-based colleague is a member, and she brought me in as her guest.

I had always wondered what wonderous things went on behind the Koru Club doors.  Now I know.  A buffet that stretches as far as the eye can see.  A well-stocked bar.  An automated espresso machine.  Workstations where you can plug in your laptop.  Couches/lounge chairs.  Television.  And lots of people wearing pinstripe suits.

All the food and drink is free, so I ate a lot.  I had: penne pasta, a sausage roll, a ciabatta roll, a lamington (cake coated in coconut - yum), a chocolate chip cookie, cheese and crackers, some olives.  And a glass of pinot noir.

I could have eaten more, but I didn't want to seem greedy...

3. Clever safety videos. 

 All airlines will ask you to put your magazine down for a moment and pay attention to the important safety instructions.  But only Air New Zealand makes their safety videos interesting so you don't really mind watching.

Here's the one they did for the Rugby World Cup (that's All Black coach Graham Henry and captain Richie McCaw in the cockpit, for the uninitiated):


And here's the one they were running for the last couple years. It looks like they're wearing clothes, but they're not.



4.  More food and drinks!

In case you didn't get enough to eat in the Koru Lounge (or weren't able to sneak in), don't worry! They will feed and water you on the plane.

It always seemed on American airlines that every time you flew, you got fewer goodies. They'd bring the drink cart around, but you had to pay for most of the stuff on offer. And forget about getting anything more than a bag of peanuts.

On my flight from Auckland to Christchurch, coffee, tea, wine, and beer were all on offer for no charge. No charge! And there were snacks too! A choice of snacks: bagel chips with hummus, cheese and crackers, or chocolate biscuits (cookies). As I had already gorged myself in Koru, I was prepared to say no thank you when the hostess asked which snack I'd like. I did in fact say "no thank you." But then I caught a glimpse of the cheese and cracker plates. There was brie. I got the hostess' attention before she wheeled the cart away and told her I'd changed my mind.

Sitting in my aisle seat happily munching my brie and crackers (and there were grapes too!), I was pretty content. I thought nothing could make this flight nicer.

5. They watch your kids for you.

There was a very small baby on the plane a couple rows behind me. In a past life, listening to a baby cry on the plane might have made me grumpy. But on this particular day, I had just spent the night away from my own baby - my first and only night away from him in his whole 17 months of life. And I was on my way home to see him again. So hearing that baby cry only brought the mama in me to the fore. I wanted to hold that crying baby and comfort him.

But I didn't have to, because the Air New Zealand staff did it first! As the drink cart was going past, I heard the two hostesses saying something like, "are you getting him or should I?" The one who was closer said, "I will!" and then suddenly the hostess had swiped the crying baby from his mother's arms and was walking up and down the aisle with him, shushing and rocking him. I thought a couple of things. First, what a relief and a welcome break for that mother! Before I was a mother, I might have thought, "that poor woman, they took her baby!" But as a mother I now know that if someone wants to give you a break from your crying kid, even if it's a stranger, it's a gift. Take it.

I also thought, again, how wonderful Air New Zealand is.

Happiness is

 

the seaside + coffee



Some answers

A few weeks ago I did a post about things we still don't know. I talked about some questions we still have about life in New Zealand, two-plus years in.

Would you believe that in the last week, two answers to my questions have arrived in the post??  It's as if the post office is reading this blog.  Creepy.

I talked about New Zealand's confusing parliamentary system, and specifically how I had no idea what MMP stands for. Then this arrived in the mail:

This helpful pamphlet explains that there is a referendum coming up on November 26th (election day) and that voters will be asked if they want to keep MMP or change to a new system.  On the back, in an apparent admission that many people will have no idea what the orange man is talking about, it explains what MMP is.  It stands for "mixed member proportional".  The orange man explains:

This is the system we currently use to elect our Parliament.

There are 120 Members of Parliament (MPs).  There are 70 electorates, including the Maori electorates.  Each elects one MP, called an Electorate MP.  The other 50 MPs are elected from political party lists and are called List MPs.

Each voter gets two votes.  The first vote is for the political party the voter chooses.  This is called the party vote and largely decides the total number of seats each political party gets in Parliament.  The second vote is to choose the MP the voter wants to represent the electorate they live in.  This is called the electorate vote.  The candidate who gets the most votes wins.  They do not have to get more than half the votes.

Under current MMP rules, a political party that wins at least one electorate seat OR 5% of the party vote gets a share of the seats in Parliament that is about the same as its share of the party vote.  For example, if a party gets 30% of the party vote it will get roughly 36 MPs in Parliament (being 30% of 120 seats).  So if that party wins 20 electorate seats it will have 16 List MPs in addition to its 20 Electorate MPs.

Coalitions or agreements between political parties are usually needed before governments can be formed.

Finally, a succinct explanation.  This fills in so many gaps in my understanding.  Thank you, Electoral Commission.

I also asked, "How much will I be charged for this ambulance ride?"  This, too, has been answered via letter in our postbox:

I love the apologetic tone of the letter, where it says, "Unfortunately, because the Government only partly funds us to attend medical emergencies, we have to charge you ..."  I'm pretty sure this is the most sheepishly written bill we've ever received.  And we are only too happy to pay it.  Sixty seven dollars!!!  I doubt that will even cover their gas (it's more than $2 a litre here now... that's about NZ$7.50 per gallon.  So quit your whining about gas prices, fellow Americans!  Ya hear?  $7.50!!)

Go the All Blacks

The Rugby World Cup is happening in New Zealand right now.  I'm not a huge rugby fan but I don't mind watching.  And I will tune in every time the All Blacks are playing just to see the haka.  I can't get enough of it.


p.s. I love Piri Weepu (he's the guy doing all the shouting).
p.p.s. This haka is from tonight's match against France. As this blog post goes to press, the AB's are winning 19 to 0. Go the All Blacks!

Pretty

It's going to be a long time before the cracks in our house are fixed.  We've already been looking at them for over a year, and it's likely we'll be looking at them for at least another year. 

A lot of houses have had all of their broken cladding taken off and replaced with plywood.  While plywood isn't attractive, it at least has the advantage of being uniform.  And of course it eliminates the danger of loose bricks falling on the heads of your child/dog/meter reader.  We've considered getting someone in to pull off our broken stones and plywood the house, but just haven't gotten around to it. 

So we have Oamaru stone in some places and tarps in other places.  And where there is stone, there are usually cracks.  It's not pretty.

But this weekend I did my best to make it pretty, at least at the front entrance.  We bought a bulk lot of used pots from a guy off of Trade Me.  Then we got some colourful flowers from Orderings Nursery.  And away we went.

There.  That's better.  Now rather than the house saying, "Please knock me down and put me out of my misery," it says something more like, "I'm down but not out.  See my pretty flowers?"

So much still unknown

It's occurred to me a lot recently that there are still so many things I don't know about everyday life in this country.  It's amazing all the little things you take for granted. 

For instance:

1.  How tall am I?  In America, I knew I was 5 feet, 6 inches tall for many years.  And then I had to attend a medical exam for immigration purposes and this included measuring my height.  The doctor measured me, said "5 foot 7", and made a note in my chart.  So I  have known for nearly three years now that I am 5 feet, 7 inches.  I have no idea when I gained this extra inch, but I'll take it. 
Anyway, in New Zealand, tallness is measured by centimetres.  I have no idea how tall I am in centimetres. 

2. How much do I weigh?  Similar to above - I know my weight in pounds.  I have no idea how many kilograms I weigh.  When I tell people I gained 50lbs while I was pregnant (it's true - I was huge) they ask me how much that is in kilos.  We're just not speaking the same language here.

3. How does the government/parliament work?  This is basic civics, and I'm a little embarrassed to say that I haven't really sussed it out yet.  I have a handle on the general principles.  I know that whichever party gets the most MPs elected gets to have control and their leader gets to be the Prime Minister.  I understand that sometimes one party won't have a majority and so they need to form a coalition.  I know our local MP is Ruth Dyson and that she's a member of the Labour party.  I know that when it's time to vote, I vote for a party (Labour, National, Green, Mana, or some other party) and I can vote for individual candidates.  But there is so much I don't understand.  I hear talk of "list MP's" and I don't know what function they serve.  Also, they're always talking about "MMP"; I don't even know what this stands for.  I have no idea what Ruth Dyson has ever done for me.  And other questions too.  I need New Zealand's version of School House Rock.

It is noteworthy that although Gareth grew up in a country that also uses a parliamentary system, he was initally a little baffled by New Zealand's system too. 

4. How many calories are in this [insert foodstuff]? 
Here's a New Zealand food label:

  I don't know what a kJ of energy is.  Is that like a calorie?   

(footnote: Gareth has just told me that a "kcal" is a calorie.  This particular mystery has just been solved.  Hoorays!)

5. How hot should the oven be/how much butter should I add?  We brought recipe books with us from the U.S. and other recipes cut from magazines and saved on the Internet.  All of them measure the hotness of the oven in farhenheit and the amount of butter by the stick.  I have a celcius/farhenheit conversion chart in one of my cookbooks that I have to consult every time.  And it never really occurred to me before, but how gross is it to measure butter by the stick??  Apart from being a little gross, this form of measurement is not helpful here because butter sticks are not the same shape here as they are there.  Butter is measured in grams.  I do a lot of baking and I am forever consulting http://www.onlineconversion.com/.  I don't know what I'd do without it.  My muffins would be a mess.

6. When is the next public holiday?  I know that we get the day off for Canterbury Day and Labour Day and Boxing Day and other days.  I just don't know when they are (except Boxing Day - that one's easy). And I don't mean that I don't know the exact date the holiday will fall on this year - I mean I don't even know what month.  You would think that something as important as days off work would stick in the head better.  But they haven't.

7. Have I dialed this telephone number correctly? Some phone numbers have 7 digits and some only have 6.  How is this possible?  How does the phone know when I'm done dialling?  This one bugs and perplexes. 

8.  Will I be billed for this ambulance ride?  Ok, this is not an everyday item (thankfully).  But last week Quinn and I had our first ride in an ambulance.  It's ok, he's fine now.  But he was blue and feverish and I took him to the doctor, who then called an ambulance to take him to hospital.  They were worried about his oxygen saturation level; it was too low.  And the blueness.  So we were riding to the hospital and I was sick with worry about my wee boy, but also sort of wondering, "will I be charged for this?"  Don't get me wrong - I would have gladly handed over our life savings if it would have gotten Quinn better quickly.  But I did wonder.  Ambulance service in New Zealand is provided by a private company called St John's.  I'm not sure if St John's will be sending us a bill for the ride.  We haven't had one yet.  Watch this space...

This segues nicely to:

9. Does my child have a fever? Yet another complication arising from the United States' failure/refusal to embrace the metric system! I believe but am not positive that a normal temperature is about 36.6. I think anything in the 37s is a bit high, the 38s is quite feverish, and anything over 39 is cause for worry, I think. But I'm not sure. I don't know the temperature at which alarm bells should sound. I should find that out.



Most or all of these things can be sorted with a quick Internet search.  But sometimes you just want to know things without thinking about them.  This information should be available on demand.  When someone says "how tall are you?" I should be able to answer without thinking.  Thankfully, people almost never ask me how tall I am.

Chocolate chip cookies

This post is about something near and dear to my heart: chocolate chip cookies.

My first memory of chocolate chip cookies is making them with my friend Colleen and her big sister Terri.  I remember Terri letting us hand-mix the dough as she added more and more flour.  It would get to the point when you've added most of the flour and it gets too hard for little girl arms to mix.

My friend Tami could make The Best chocolate chip cookies.  They were so good that no one believed her when she said she was just using the recipe on the back of the Nestle Toll House bag.  One night I tried to replicate her cookies.  I failed.  I had to call her over to help me when my cookies turned out like flat amoebas.

"The secret," she said, "is adding a little extra flour.  And doubling the amount of chocolate chips." 

I have just revealed to you the secret to incredible chocolate chip cookies.  I don't know if Tami reads this blog.  I hope she doesn't mind.

I love making chocolate chip cookies.  I love eating the raw dough.  I love rolling it into little balls.  I love baking each batch for exactly 9 minutes (never 10, defintely never 11).  I love laying them all out on paper towels, where they look lovely and delicious and leave little round buttery grease spots.

I love eating one from each baking tray as it comes out of the oven.  Considering the arm work-out you get creaming the butter into the sugar and then mixing all that flour into the batter by hand, I figure you need to eat about 10 of them to fill the calorie deficit. 

I do not love creaming butter into sugar and find this a major chore. Thankfully for me, Gareth doesn't mind creaming butter into sugar.  He's really good at it.

I knew there would be things I'd have to make do without when we moved to New Zealand.  It did not occur to me that chocolate chips might be one of them.  But it's true.  I have never seen Nestle Toll House chocolate chips here.  Or even any other brand of chocolate chips.  They seem to not exist.

Ok, they sell chocolate chips here, but they are not proper chocolate chips.  They are fragments of chocolate chips.  In other words, pathetic and tiny and completely unsatisfactory.

Inadequate.

Thankfully, I have connections.

Shortly after Quinn was born, our American friend Cara baked chocolate chip cookies for us.  This was an extraordinary act of kindness because Cara had to dig into her own stash of imported chocolate chips.  I used to get up in the middle of the night to nurse Quinn and sneak into the kitchen to eat one of those cookies.  They were so perfect and familiar.

Cara recently returned from a trip to America.  She asked if there was anything she could bring back for me.  I asked for one thing: chocolate chips.  She brought me two bags.

I am baking cookies right now.  I am writing this blog post in 9-minute segments between batches of cookies.

I don't know why Blogger will not let me turn this picture the right way round. I'm sorry, but you'll have to cock your head to the right.

I am in a cookie dough-scented heaven.  My tongue burns from sugar overload.  It's awesome.

Gareth just came into the kitchen, nabbed two cookies and left.  And came back a minute later to take two more.  I said, "make sure there are some left for Friday when Cara comes over."  He said, "no chance."

Assessed

This weekend will mark the one-year anniversary of the September 4th earthquake.  One year in, and things are still pretty broken here.  We try to just get on with things and not dwell on the cracks.

We had a full assessment by EQC in January, but then the February quake hit and really knocked us down.  So we've been waiting since then for EQC to come back and check things over again and tell us what repairs our house will need.  We waited and waited.

Finally someone called and made an appointment to come see us.  We were so thrilled!  We waited with great anticipation for the appointed day to arrive.  We know other people who have already had their assessments, so we sort of knew what to expect.  Two men wearing flourescent vests would show up in a Toyota Corolla, carrying iPads.  They would spend hours taking measurements and making careful notes.  That was the one thing everyone said: they are so thorough.  One friend whose house suffered virtually no damage at all said EQC spent 4 hours there.  So we fully expected them to be at our house for the better part of the day.

Mike and John showed up on time in their Corolla, wearing flouro vests, carrying iPads.  All going as expected so far.  But then it got a little weird.  Mike started telling me what a disaster the whoe re-build effort is.  He shook his head sadly.  He said the people in charge are "idiots".  They don't know what they're doing. It's all such a shame.  And on and on.

Mike explained that he had worked in L.A. following the 1994 Northridge quake.  He was comparing the rebuild effort there to the one here.  Apparently, they did it a lot better in L.A.  The people here are idiots.

As I said, we're really trying to stay optimistic here.  We want to, we need to believe that it's all going to be ok.  Mike was really not helping matters.

One of the things he said was that a lot of the assessors hired by EQC to do these inspections have no building experience at all.  He said a bunch of them are ex-cops.  He assured me that both he and John are experienced builders and that we were in good hands.  So that was good, I guess.

John took a walk around the outside of the house and came back in with a grim report:  "It's all coming down."  !!  Ah, but not as bad as it sounds -  he was just talking about the Oamaru stone cladding.  The house is made of wood, but has white stone cladding on the exterior.  It's all coming down.  To be fair, a good portion of the stones have already come down, thanks to Mother Nature.  John was just confirming that the rest would also have to come down.

They used nifty laser devices to check the floors and make sure they're still level (they are).  They made notes in their iPads.  They looked at the ceilings, the walls, the attic. 

An hour later, they packed up their gear. 

What?  Done already?  But... you just got here! 

I really did not want to question their methods, but felt I had to point out the anecdotal evidence that these inspections should take 4 or 5 hours.  Mike's response: "those inspectors are idiots."  Ah, right.  He said our house is really an "easy case" and there's nothing major or unusual here.  All of the cladding has to come off and be replaced.  All of the surfaces of the interior walls (paper/paint) have to be repaired and replaced.  "You'll get our report in 6 to 8 weeks."  But the house is solid.  They say.  After only looking at it for an hour.

Gareth was especially concerned about a bit at the back where the patio bricks have been pushed up, causing us to wonder if the concrete slab has broken.  "Nah, that's fine," they said.  Hmmm.  Gareth questioned whether they had really looked at it properly (he managed to do this politely without suggesting the builders did not know what they were doing).  Mike and John agreed to take another look, "to put your mind at ease".  The men went out back and had another look, but Mike and John did not change their views on this point.  Nothing to worry about.  In any event though, there is a separate 'land assessment team' who will have a look at this. 

So they left.

They're attitude was like, "trust us, we know what we're doing," but I have to say, after listening to Mike tell us what a disaster the whole process is, it's a bit hard to be trusting.  I guess he was saying, "they're all idiots except us," but I'm not really convinced.  I'm a little worried.

I want to believe they did know what they were doing and that our house really is ok.  It's great news that we don't have to be bulldozed.  A brand new house might have been nice, but we can really do without all the hassle. 

So we've been assessed.  Now we sit back and wait 6 to 8 weeks for the report. 

Oh Yes, it snowed.

The snow hit us on Sunday night. We woke up on Monday morning to a glorious white-out.

So beautiful!

Gareth's work was closed, Quinn's daycare was closed. (I work from home, so work is never closed for me, but under the circumstances it was a minimal work day). So we stayed inside all day, heater cranked, enjoying our bonus day of holiday. We pigged out, drank tea, and played with Quinn. Snow days are fun!

Everything is more beautiful when coated in fluffy white snow. The street, the bushes, the mailbox, the washing line. It all looks magical and wonderful.

Frozen lemonade anyone?

We were playing outside when the sun started to try to come out. High in the sky and very faint, we could see a rainbow. Only it wasn't raining, it was snowing. It was a SNOWBOW! I snapped a photo of it.

There is a snowbow in this photo. Honest.

Later when we were looking at the photos, Gareth said, "Nice one. What exactly were you photographing here?" So yeah, you kind of have to squint to see the snowbow. But it's there. I'm pretty sure.

On Monday night, more snow. Lots more snow. When we woke up on Tuesday, it was as if we hadn't disturbed yesterday's snow at all. It had all been replaced and made perfect again. Hoorays!

clean slate

Day Two of hibernation is not as fun as Day One, however. You can't really keep a 1-year old out in the snow indefinitely, as he is very small and can barely walk in his gumboots. Gareth was called into work around midday, so he broke away and left us on our own just as cabin fever was really starting to set in.

Since the City Council was asking that everyone all limit driving to "essential" travel, I couldn't really justify social visits. And our usual standby - going out for coffee - was not an option either, since everything was closed. So I phoned my friend who lives at the top of the hill behind us and boldly invited ourselves over. "Of course, c'mon up!" she said. Ten minutes later we were suitably dressed (think of Randy in A Christmas Story) and we headed out into the storm.

Carrying a baby uphill through a foot of snow was hard work, but totally worth it to get out of the house.

One thing we're seeing more and more lately is that Quinn really, really likes to be outside. He's an outdoorsman, our boy. Here he is complaining when we brought him back inside.

Look at this face!

So it's Friday now, and the snow is nearly all gone. Ah well, it was fun while it lasted.

Storm

The people who predict weather have been all atwitter, going on about this big storm that is supposedly about to descend on the South Island. The supermarkets were jammed with panicky shoppers yesterday. There were news reports of stores running out of bread and firewood. "It's going to be huge," they said.

But this morning the sun was shining brightly. We went to the farmers' market and then to the park where we met a friend. We were squinting in the sunshine, enjoying the beautiful morning, idly pushing our kids on the swings. It seemed that once again, the weathermen had got it wrong.

But then, not long after we got home, it started to look a bit gray and dark outside.

And then it got more gray. And more dark.

And look out the window now: it's coming!

This is a rapidly changing situation. In the time it took me to see these clouds, decide to do a blog post, find the camera, snap a photo, upload the photo to the computer, and then log into Blogger (in other words, about a minute and a half), the sky had opened up! Suddenly, there was hail pounding our rooftop and the grass was turning white.

We're hunkering down. This could be a big one.

Dog park

In Christchurch, the rich people live by the airport and the poor people live at the beach. And the dogs get prime real estate at the top of the Port Hills for their play area.

Of course I'm talking about the Victoria Park dog exercise area. It's fantastic.

At the top of Dyers Pass Road, just past the Sign of the Takahe, is Victoria Park and its dog exercise area. A sign near the water fountain reads: "A tired dog is a good dog".

The exercise area is a huge fenced field at the top of the hills. You can see the snow-capped Southern Alps in one direction; the Pacific Ocean in the other.

I'm pretty sure that if Aynsley died and went to heaven, she would go here.

Snowy Sunday run in the Port Hills

Well Lindsay has given control of the blog to me for the first time. Thought I would share a little insight on what I get up to when Linds lets me out to play in the hills.

The weather forecast for this morning called for a southerly front blowing up the country from the Antarctic, with snow down to sea level. What to do in this situation?

1. Head off to the mall with the masses?

B. Head to the local cafe for a hot chocolate and a cheeky caramel slice?

Or thirdly, load up my pack, grab the dog and head up in to the Port Hills for a 3 hour trail run.

I loaded up the pack and away we went.

I was a little disappointed that it hadn't snowed overnight, but ever the optimist I knew it would eventually snow, and I would be there to see it.

Heading up in to the Hills I came across the first lambs of the season.

Newborn lambs getting their feed on

Aynsley is just a young pup, and her training is ongoing. I could see something primeval stir within her when she saw the sheep. An ingrained need to herd them. Better safe than sorry I popped her back on the lead.

Why won't you let me herd them?

As we were getting closer to the top of the hill, the southerly front came rolling in.

Here comes the snow!

The air got colder, the wind windier, and I could smell snow in the air. Once I got to the top I took a trot along the summit road to where it is closed. There are huge concrete barriers across the road blocking access. After the February earthquake there was major damage to the summit road and a number of my favourite trails due to rockfall. Last week a video emerged on youtube of some mountain bikers who cycled the length of the closed section of road and recorded it on helmet cam. The post came down pretty quickly so I can't link to it, but the damage up there was huge. You won't catch me going up there any time soon.

Road Closed!

Maximum $5000 fine and 3 months in jail.

Thankfully there are still trails in the area open. With Aynsley off lead we headed along the ridge line hoping to see some snow.

Eventually some white stuff started to fall from the sky. Bah, it was hail blowing sideways into my face!

Hail settling on the ground.

It did eventually turn to snow, so coming up a few gratuitous snowy hill shots.

This wasn't in the brochure!

My favourite section of trail on the hills.

Going uphill on the new snow got a bit slippery.

Looking down towards Governors Bay.

Sign explaining why the Sign of the Kiwi is closed

The Sign of the Kiwi is a cafe at the top of the hill where the summit road crosses Dyers pass road. It's popular in the summer with tourists, and year round with cyclists who cycle up the hill, have a coffee and head home again. The sign above explains that due to damage caused by the June 13th earthquakes it is closed for the time being. Yet another thing closed in our city. It will reopen soon though, just like everywhere else.

The Sign of the Kiwi was our turn around point for today, so we took a different route home. A less exposed route.

Some cover on the route home.

By now the weather had started to clear up, and the sun even came out a little. We made good time back along the trail.

Snowy feet.

Some snowy pup shots.

Now, you would think that with this rough weather, and being really early on a Sunday morning that the hills would be deserted. Even the snow coated trails would make you think so.

Judging by these prints, only one man and his dog have been this way.

Here's the thing though, we weren't alone out there. On the way up the hill I met a lady coming down. Running along the ridge at the top I met a group of 5 runners ploughing through the snow. When we stopped at the Sign of the Kiwi for Aynsley to get a drink I saw another pair of runners and a lone woman. Heading back I met a middle aged couple walking their dog, a pair of women runners and had another meeting with the group of 5. All along the rest of the way home I saw probably another 10 people out walking and running in the hills in this horrible weather. This is probably more than I see out there on a good day!

Talking with the middle aged couple walking their dog, the man said he expected it to be deserted, but it was like Colombo Street this morning.

I think it says a lot about the people here, that when the weather is as bad as can be (and this is the first snow we have seen since we moved here) they load up their packs, lace up their shoes and head in to the Hills.

Finally, I'm home.