I made it !
The remaining day and a half at my brother’s place weren’t nearly as hectic as that first one. At least, there wasn’t so much driving all over the place and doing stuff. There was still heaps of entertaining two energetic kids, which is tiring enough. Poor Brian was running on fumes by the end there, and I can’t imagine how Mom is going to survive (has survived, at this point) a couple more days of reading Frog and Toad stories and singing “The Wheels on the Bus”. (What *is* it about that song ?)
Pics: My brother, looking like the dork he is ;^) and my adorable-when-he’s-in-a-good-mood-which-fortunately-is-pretty-often nephew; my sister-in-law, brother, and so-cute-that-Japanese-tourists-at-Disneyland-asked-to-have-their-pictures-taken-with-her niece; my incredibly-supportive-of-this-hair-brained-off-to-New-Zealand-thing mother, bless her; and my last, somewhat impressionistic view of LA and the US.
Turns out that my bother’s family are huge Lilo and Stitch fans as well, and between them and the hula-themed Aloha party we had before I left (Holly brought the leis and the soundtrack), it’s going to be a while before I can hear “He Mele No Lilo” again without choking up. I think the two signature tracks on the Soundtrack of the Move would have to be “He Mele No Lilo” and Rufus Wainwright’s “Hallelujah”, which is featured on a CD *somebody* (somebody who doesn’t label their personal burns as thoroughly as my sieve-like brain would like — my money’s currently on Brian, though. If it *was* you — hey, man, send me a track list !) gave me recently, titled “Pensive Mix ’03″. Since most of our CDs were packed already, Stephen and I listened to that one pretty much continuously while we were packing, and we both found ourselves humming “Hallelujah” a lot. That, and the one that sounds like it could have come off the Evangelion soundtrack.
So, after a twelve-hour (and that’s just the LA to Auckland leg) three-in-flight-feature plane flight (Catch Me If You Can, Die Another Day, and Two Weeks Notice, if anyone is curious), some sprinting through Customs, and another, much shorter flight to Wellington, here I am. I thought that once I was here, it would finally feel real, but it doesn’t. It actually feels more *unreal* if that’s possible. Maybe it’s just the jetlag. Chris and Natasha have a fabulous house (and I must say it’s kinda weird to see their familiar furniture and art in the new setting), and they’ve given me a chunk of it all to myself. Whee ! Chris is looking delightfully crunchy now with his hair all grown out and shaggy, and there’s new Natasha art on the walls that nobody’s seen but me me me !!! Those who have been reading *their* bog will recognize the breathtaking view from their living room.
Pics: Flying over Mt. Taranaki (why yes, that *is* a honkin’ huge old volcano!) on the way to Wellington; the Welcome Gate in the International Arrivals hall in Auckland — it’s traditional Maori carving, and there are sections of native plantings on either side of it with piped-in birdsong; Chris and Natasha in one small section of their gorgeous terraced garden; the view from their living room; some *amazing* mushrooms Chris and I discovered on our walk down to the local bakery to get meat pies for lunch.
In addition to the short walk to the bakery, we took a little drive into Upper Hutt to get shampoo and groceries. Drove back through Whiteman’s Valley, which is a little valley parallel to the Hutt Valley — took us maybe fifteen minutes out of our way, but it might as well have been a trip through the boondocks: apart from little clusters of houses where the road enters and leaves at either end, the valley was mostly farmland — pasturage for cows in the bottom, where there’s a pretty little stream, sheep and forestry blocks on the slopes above. You could tell a lot of the farms were old by the size of their hedges and windbreaks, and by the venerable shade pines that loomed at intervals.
And I saw pukekos !
