meh num uh nuh...do do do do do....me num uh nuh...do do do do.
September 10, 2005Onemana, New Zealand
6:21pm
You may be wondering why I am writing at this moment. You are perhaps wondering why I am not presently at the dinner table at Carol’s house sliding my toe up and down her knee high nylon calf. Well she cancelled. Her husband is suffering through a brutal chest cold. I think he was catching on. And to avoid the potential fisticuffs, she cautiously nixed the invite. She was breathing heavy when she dropped by to let us know. To let me down. She said the breathing heavy was because of helping John pull something in the garden. But I think we both knew the real reason. She’s got a bad case of Jaseitis. And Carol baybee, it’s time to put down your quilt pattern. Cause I got just the tonic.
Wrote another 2,000 words yesterday. Moved on to another voice. The pretty boy. It is harder to write as him. It’s easy to write as the snake. Hmmm. I think I can pound out 8,000 words a week. That would get me to completed book by January. Enough room to edit out the crap. Which it may all be, who knows. All I know is the morning three hours has been a blessing for me and my roller coaster mood swings. The sense of accomplishment drives happiness home.
Yesterday afternoon we bought another boatload of groceries. Basically more of fresh produce we need to sustain the healthy regime. Steph’s new found mommy friends were nice enough to give us some local tips on where to buy the produce and which butcher to use. There is a large supermarket here, but there is something about getting your produce somewhere, and then your meat somewhere else, and just the sundries at the supermarket. I did a price comparison and it was all basically equal. But if the lamb chops we had from the butcher were an indicator, it is the quality that will give the local people blue ribbons. Small towns. Affectionate I am becoming.
I also strangely enough am enjoying the act of hanging our laundry out to dry. We have no dryer here so there is only one option. There is something about seeing my boxers, which the neighbours must think are some sort of novelty underwear they look so massive, swinging in the wind, that makes me feel good. And the smell of freshly outdoor dried clothes is like a hug turned into air.
I am so gul darned country. Pass me a whittlin’ stick ma, I’m gonna go sit me out on the rocker for a spell…
Today started nice and slow. I went for my walk, which is great only because we had kind of agreed to slack off on the weekends so we can enjoy ourselves. But I am enjoying the walks, so I did it anyway. When in my life am I going to be able to wake up just after sunrise and walk along a beach with waves so big and menacing it feels like they are going to reach up and pull me in. My shiny head disappearing quickly under the white foamy aggression. So I will continue to do the walks. The uphill part still hurts. But less so. And I know if I ….er…when I keep this up…I will have to make them longer to ensure optimal physical value.
After breakfast (grapefruit, three flatbreads with light cheese and tomato, fat free yogurt) Carol dropped by to tell us everything we already knew about the area. I was just getting out of the shower when she arrived. You be the judge.
Before we left on our driving adventure, I called home to try and catch Andrew at his stag. I did not, but I did manage to talk to Jim, Tony and Sam, three other lifers. None of them sounded to eager to talk to me, but strippers were in the room, so I will give them the benefit of the doubt. It was still nice to hear their voice, especially Jimmy, who is on the cusp of fatherhood. So much so that he is wearing a pager and not drinking at the stag. Yeah right. He’ll be pissed in the delivery room.
Our day began by driving 75km up the coast to a town called Whitianga. The town was basic, but I was able to snag myself the birthday present I was looking for. A huge grey sweatshirt with a hood, which they call hoodies here.
I love it. I had been searching for a couple of months to find the exact cotton of my youth. And I know, barring any unfortunate misplacements, I will own this sweatshirt for the rest of my life. Hud will wear it one day. It will be massive for him. It will never ever fit him well.
I did get ahold of Andy, and wished him well. There were forty to fifty people at his stag, proving how well liked he is. He is such a special and warm human being. I am lucky to be one of his friends. It kills me to not be there.
After lunch at a small café (BLT’s and salad, remember, weekends are free) we drove back down the coast and stopped at Hot Water Beach. Hot Water Beach is aptly named because between two hours on either side of low tide, you can dig into the sand and very hot water created by underground geothermal activity will fill the hole, allowing you to have your very own hot tub as the cool water of the ocean washes over you. We had planned to come here at a different time but we were in the area and realized it is only about 40 minutes from our place, instead of two hours we anticipated before.
An adolescent rugby team was there at the same time as us, playing in the waves and digging into the sand with shovels they brought with them. It was a lot of fun and we will go back when low tide is in the middle of the day, and it is a little bit sunnier out.
We continued driving, stopping a couple of times to bask in the beauty of our surroundings and take a few pics. It is almost exactly as I pictured it to be here, and that is saying something. Back in Toronto I thought there is no way it can be as beautiful as I imagine it to be. But it is. It reminds me of being back home and rounding the corners on country roads and seeing a golf course in the middle of nowhere. The shock of the green. The carving and shaping. Well it is naturally like that everywhere here. The dormant volcanoes and the dairy farms (way more cows than sheep where we are) are all covered in this almost fluorescent colour green, only interrupted by the occasional big mountain, or thousands of miles of beach and ocean.
It’s phenomenal.
It’s earth’s phenomenon.
Love to all,
J.
posted by Jason @ 12:26 AM
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