From home to house

We will move to the new house over the coming weekend.

We’ve been packing steadily for a month now. On the one hand, that’s been nice… doing a couple of boxes here and there instead of madly exhausting ourselves for a few days. We have a lot of stuff, and we don’t use most of it every day (hmm…) so this slow and steady process has been fine.

But on the other, it leaves plenty of time for the sadness to creep in. We’d invested time, money and thought into making this house ours over the past almost four years. Now we’re consciously stripping ourselves out. We are daily faced with the idea that no matter what a great job we did finding curtains for a window or arranging pictures on a wall, nobody cares. At least not a potential buyer, someone with whom we may share very few cultural touchstones.

So, into the boxes it all goes. We’ll keep what’s important to us, like this plant which has survived every move in the last 37 years. We will reassemble it all in the next few weeks, and then we’ll find new curtains, new arrangements, and turn the new house into our new home.

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As fast as I can

I was out metal detecting the other day, way out in the shallows of low tide, nobody around me except a few of these red-billed gulls.

I didn’t find any treasure but I sure had fun watching these guys stir up the sandy mud with their fast feet. I guess it must bring some tiny little creatures out of hiding?

The TikTok world loves fast footwork. I won’t link you to them, but whether it’s jumping rope, tap dancing, roller blading a slalom course, or who knows what else, this kind of video is a thing. Hopefully this clip also goes viral and I will be able to retire on the ad royalties.

Oh wait… I don’t do ads. Or TikTok! Oh well, enjoy!!

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Grill of my dreams

The post-flood renovations and improvements to the Northcote Bowling Club (which we in the petanque club share) are just about done.

One of the last projects was redoing the BBQ area. It looks great now.

As an aside, I’ll mention that antipodean barbecues usually have a flat griddle for part or even all of the cooking surface instead of a perforated or wire grill like I’m used to from the US. I was horrified at first but have come to see the value… not only is the grease not dripping into the works, but it’s way easier to fry onions!

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Here to pump you up

This pumping station has been under construction for the last 2-3 years, snarling up parking at Mairangi Bay, which is my group’s home swimming beach. It’s finally operational.

The pumping station promises to move a bunch of wastewater from its big underground reservoir to the water treatment plant a few miles away. This is supposed to reduce the frequency and quantity of sewage overflows during storms. That in turn means cleaner water in the bays, and so more swimmable days. (Or maybe it’s better to say fewer unswimmable days, since actually the water is pretty darn good for being in a big urban area.)

We’ve had one big rainstorm since it opened, and all the beaches recorded sewage overflows (according to the Safeswim website) just like they always do. I don’t know enough to say whether the pumps are actually doing anything, but I sure hope we see some improvements!!

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Still searching

I took the metal detector out to Devonport yesterday. Didn’t find a pot of gold, or really anything interesting. I eventually moved to another beach and found a few old coins.

But after a shower soaked me a bit, this super rainbow appeared. one end was pointing right at the big navy ship in port…

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Utility boxes

One afternoon last week I found myself in Parnell, walking on one of the very first streets we walked on when we got to New Zealand seven years ago.

I was blown away by the painted utility boxes back then… something I’d never really seen before. Now, they’ve become a common sight that I don’t even think about. There are a lot of them, often painted by community groups, and many aren’t even that well done.

But here’s a good one. If the apartment building weren’t there, it’s more or less a representation of what you would see… that impressive structure is the Auckland War Memorial Museum, which sits on that hill which is just about there. I haven’t actually seen a Cheshire Cat in those trees, but who knows?

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Aunty June Jackson

I saw this great mural on a quick trip to Wellington last week. It was even better in real life as the mist rose around it in the predawn hours.

But who is it? Well, after reading this article I still don’t quite know, but she sounds like a cool lady.

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Day and night

On my morning walk around Brisbane the sun shone golden through the mist. And in the evening the Story Bridge and the highrises turn the world into a futuristic fairyland.

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$tarbuck$

Less than 36 hours after getting home from Dallas, I was back on a plane to Brisbane for a couple days of teaching software developers about the intricacies of sending health-related data between computer systems.

On the plane, I had to fill out the little arrival card that you always have to fill out when you go to a foreign country. Although NZ has recently digitized that, which is nice. But anyway, somehow, and I still don’t know how, that card disappeared. So, I was rooting around under the seat, trying to find it. I never did. But I did find a Starbucks gift card, and it turned out to have a $5 balance on it. So now I am at Starbucks, having a mocha and a croissant for breakfast. Of course that was way more than $5, but at least I got a discount.

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Choices

Mostly the “big issues” are things that happen far away or to other people. But here’s someone I’ve met several times, and her partner with whom I have spent quite a bit of time in the pool and the ocean. And what’s really a bigger issue than living or dying?

https://amp.theguardian.com/society/article/2024/may/12/woman-having-assisted-death-in-new-zealand-calls-for-uk-law-change

“The best shitty option” certainly seems right. I hope Tracy’s story inspires political thinkers in the UK and elsewhere.

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Oh, the glamour of it all!

My week in Dallas at the HL7 meeting is especially filled with meeting rooms, partly because my schedule happens to be extra full and partly because the hot weather and the hotel location conspire to keep me indoors.

But I’ve still been able to get out in the evening with the gang for way too much food…

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Not so spicy

Years ago, we accidentally discovered a spice blend Bolner’s Fiesta Pico de Gallo con Limon. It’s become a staple in our house.

It’s mostly sold in the Southwest US, and so, finding myself in TX, I hiked to the supermarket to pick up a couple of jars to bring home.

When I saw this Bolner’s Fiesta display I figured I was set. But, after looking and looking, I was sorely disappointed to find that they had every variety except the one I wanted.

It was a ‘Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink’ moment of the first order. But I did get some Cream of Wheat, so the trip was not a total loss.

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Texas sized

My brother in law’s Ford Maverick hybrid truck, on the right, is a pretty good-sized vehicle in my view. But everything is relative: when we pulled into Whataburger, it was apparent just where we fit in the overcompensation hierarchy.

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Tornado warning

After we got to my niece’s house, everybody’s cell phone made the startling emergency warning noise… tornado warning!

In their snug home it didn’t seem that bad, so instead of taking shelter in an interior room, I stood by the window and took video of the wind. In hindsight, perhaps not the best idea.

A million people lost power, including us, but luckily we had a generator that kicks on automatically and runs off natural gas.

Once the storm passed we drove through the neighborhood and saw plenty of downed branches and water on the road. I stayed over with brother Frank, and there was less damage in his part of town.

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At least it’s cooled off

I’m en route to Dallas for a week of standards development. That allows me a quick stopover in Houston to see the in-laws, including the bun in the oven that is very close to popping out and turning into my grand-nephew.

The flight was fine, and the Customs and baggage claim experience was amazingly fast. In fact the longest delay of the whole arrival was the 90 seconds or so that Mr. Customs Man spent staring intently at screens with my passport in hand. As far as I know, there are few people with less to worry about coming into the United States than me. So what was he looking at so carefully? No idea… At the end of this surprisingly nerve-wracking time, he just said thank you and waved his hand for the next person.

And so out to the curb while my ride navigates the traffic. It’s gray and the humidity softly slaps you like a sauna towel. There was a guy on the flight with a black cowboy hat and camouflage luggage, 6’4” and heavy, with a big bushy beard. I expected more like that, but here as we wait for our families and Ubers it’s mostly the same mix you’d see in Auckland, except with more Black people.

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