Paihia July 2015 - Day 4

Time to head home. But first it was time to return one last time to the wonderful Ngawha Hot Springs. We'd been every night except Saturday night, and  so we decided to go back before coming home. These hot pools are pretty primitive. There's no worry about people getting meningitis from putting their heads under - nobody would even think of doing so. But despite the colour of the water they were wonderful. Actually, the colour of the water is because of the minerals, which are, in turn, why they are so effective at healing. It was sad to leave them behind - there is nothing like it near us, since the Waingaro pools closed.

 The white, cold pool - only Heidi was brave enough, though Steven got in to about his knees.

 Mac in the pool in the foreground, Steve and Heidi in the pool behaind him.

It was so nice to have a winter break away we decided to do it again - New Plymouth in August!

Paihia July 2015 - Day 3

The last whole day of our little break away.

In the morning Mac and I went for a drive out past Waitangi

Then in the afternoon we drove up to Kereikeri.

The stone store - the oldest surviving stone building in New Zealand, built in 1932.

Then on to the Rainbow Falls - very beautiful.

Paihia July 2015 - Day 2

After two nights of soaking in the pools at Ngawha Springs, my body was feeling a lot better. (I had fallen and hurt my back and had been having physio for six weeks, and the car journey north had set me back.) Another cold but sunny day saw us head across to Russell on the ferry with Steven and Heidi, and Mac's sister, Jenny.

A visit to Pompallier House - I love this place, although the visit wasn't as good as last time, when Mac and I were the only tourists. The presence of children this time meant the tour was aimed more at them, with some of the juicier bits of history left out.

Paihia July 2015 - Day 1

So there I was in the middle of winter, starting to feel that dullness, that deadening feeling, that is the hint of warning that all is not quite right inside my head. Then Heidi commented on how long it was since we had been away together, and how she missed those times - and I agreed. I looked at the website of the NZ Railway Welfare Society, to which we still belong, and found two options for a few days away - Napier and Paihia. I ruled out Napier because of the risk of road closure (which did indeed happen) and ruled in Paihia because it would be warmer (it was not!)

 The holiday flat proved to be seriously cold - they were totally unprepared for morning frosts and icy winds from the south. On the up side, the Bay of Islands is spectacular when the sun is shining.

 We walked down to the wharf to meet up for lunch with friends from Morrinsville, whose holiday overlapped ours by just one day.

 Mac waited on this beautiful mosaic seat.

 First Eileen appeared,

 then Colin, after parking their car.

We had lunch with a view.

Antenatal Depression

I heard this item about antenatal depression on the radio this morning and burst into tears. For me the depression was worse with each pregnancy until the only thing that kept me from suicide during my last pregnancy was the fact that killing myself would also kill another human being. That, and the certain knowledge that this awful state of mind would disappear the moment my baby was born as in the previous births.

But back then, 25 years ago, no one took me seriously. Post-natal depression was accepted as real, antenatal depression was not. When I asked a friend for help (something I had never done before, as asking for help is well nigh impossible for me) she refused saying I needed to pull myself together because it would be much worse once the baby was born. It wasn't, I didn't ask her for help again, and that friendship ended for good.

This morning on the news I was caught unaware by the confirmation and acknowledgement that what I felt was real, is indeed a 'thing'. I have talked about it openly ever since that time, helping other women who were feeling alone in their misery. But it seems that deep down I wanted this - this acknowledgement by the establishment that my pain was real. It appears that after all these decades of questioning experts, I still have a buried need for their acceptance. It seems I still have work to do.

I watched the sunshine creep down the hills in the west and cried. So much to do this morning, and all I want to do is cry. I am weeping for that sad, lonely, desperately depressed young woman who was disbelieved by almost everyone.

Friends, Ex-Friends and Not Really Sure

Twice I’ve asked the question:

“Have I offended you

in some way?

One answered, “Yes. You have.

Now that you mention it,

I never want to speak to you again.”

To be honest, it was a relief.

The other said, “No! It’s me.

I just can’t talk without guilt

for spreading misery.”

It was a relief to hear, and to say,

“I’m always here to listen.”

Other friends drift away.

Sometimes they drift

Sometimes it’s me

Sometimes it’s both

but rarely at the same pace.

Shared grief, shared fun.

School and uni friends.

Waiting for kids at classes friends,

Sharing stages friends.

Work mates, play mates,

book group, bee club,

best fit of the bunch.

Friends for a reason

Friends for a season

Friends for life.

I’m sad you drifted away.

I’m not going to ask the question again.

I’m not going to ponder possible reasons.

I’m not going to apportion blame.

Nor bear a grudge.

Know that I respect your choice

to distance yourself from me.

But also know that I miss you.

So if you change your mind,

just call my name

and I’ll meet you half way

with tears and laughter.

June - July Reading

Somehow last month's list didn't get finished: in fact, barely started, so here's some of what I've read over the last couple of months.

Fiction

One Small Drop by Liz Constable
This is a tiny book about sadness, disconnection and love. Liz says in her TradeMe listing: " The idea was conceived by Liz who wanted to produce a bedtime storybook for adults. One that offers comfort and encouragement, just like a good bedtime story ought to. It is suitable for children too." Liz is one of my favourite New Zealand bookbinders and easily my favourite NZ workshop tutor. You can read more about her, and her work on her website and on her Facebook page.
The book may seem expensive, but given this is a very small run, hand produced, and a delightful book, it is good value, I think. It comes in the post as a treasure package to sit down, with plenty of time and a cup of tea, to open with ceremony and delight.

After my Ann Cleeves binge in May, I was still in the mood for easy read fiction and found the following three books fitted the bill nicely, but in quite different ways.

Darkening Skies by Bronwyn Parry
Set in a small Australian country town and surrounding district, this is a mystery / romance which pushes the bounds of credibility a bit. However it  is fast-moving enough for the creepiness to be manageable and was a satisfying light read.

Silver Girl by Elin Hilderbrand
An interesting mystery which is really about people - how well do we really know the people in our lives, even our nearest and dearest, and also, how well do we know ourselves. The setting and basic story line is somewhat shallow and unrealistic, but I enjoyed the characters and their development.

8th Confession by James Patterson
Pretty brutal with a nastiness that means I won't read Patterson again until summer: life is a constant battle against the Black Dog in winter and reading dark fiction, however well written, is not advisable. I will come back to him again though.

Non-Fiction

The Nourishing Homestead: one back-to-the-land family's plan for cultivating soil, skills, and spirit by Ben Hewitt with Penny Hewitt
I really don't want to give this book back - I'm seriously considering buying it, and I don't usually buy books these day if they are available from the library. It is a beautifully presented (that top photo on the front cover of their son with his face buried in a bucketful of blue berries has to be one of my all time favourites) and extremely well written book. It is full of practical information, but there is also a lot about the Hewitts' philosophy of life - from life in general to homesteading, parenting, education, soil and animal care and more. I have to admit that I skipped most of the section on animal raising, slaughter, and use of parts, though I found it interesting that these one-time vegetarians have thought through their stance and changed to eating (and growing and slaughtering and respecting) animals. I love that this book resonates so deeply with my own beliefs - I just wish I'd 'got there' as young as Ben and Penny did. As you will see from the photo, I marked too many special paragraphs to fit into a review, but I'll offer a few.

On the value of homegrown food: "The labor to produce nourishing food is itself of value. I have to admit, I did not always see it this way. But over the years, I have come to understand that the value of the foods we produce is only partly found in the foods themselves. Indeed, I now understand that the labor itself holds a deep and intrinsic value; it maintains our physical health, it connects us to the land and nature, it fosters our intellect with new skills, and it develops the spirit. The sense of labor's role in feeding my family's body and spirit is so profound that it occasionally seems to me as if the food itself is merely a byproduct."

On improving soil: "Our habit of fertilizing our garden with compost we proudly made from vegetation and animal manure originating from plants grown in depleted soil only magnified soil imbalances, as the depleted compost was incorporated into the soil from which it came."

On the loss of celebration of season and ritual: The first strawberry in June is no longer cause for celebration: it is no longer brought to the house in the grubby palm of a child and quartered so that every member of the family can experience it's brief, particular sweetness and the anticipation of the berries that are slowly ripening on the plants. Why? Because, of course, we can have strawberries year-round, now, enough for everyone to have heaping handfuls and more. Who can resist that?"

On unschooling children on a homestead: "....we believe that the resourcefulness and confidence their hands-on capabilities engender - along with the inevitable failures along the path toward attaining these skills - will provide the foundation necessary to support them no matter what career or lifestyle they choose."

And the concluding paragraph: "We are still working on all of this. We do not have it all figured out. We never will have it all figured out. Every day, we are learning new ways and unlearning old ones. Every morning, we wake up and we walk outside to see what the day holds."

Magazines

Organic NZ July/August 2015 issue

There's always interesting things to read in this magazine, although there is frequently some articles which are full of unsubstantiated woo as well. But best of all, in this issue there was a recipe using five limes - my limes have been going to waste - that was also raw, gluten free, and dairy free. It was also really yummy once you got used to the unusual flavours. Sublime Tart. Try it. At least three slices before you decide.

Permaculture No84 Summer 2015

My favourite magazine. I could read many of the articles online and the website, but I love having this magazine lying around to pick up and browse - even the advertisements are fascinating. There's always a wonderful mix of the practical and the theoretical. Unlike many publications which address ecological, social and environment issues, this magazine always contains abundant positivity.

Still Alive and the Sun Shines

I slept really badly last night: hot flashes woke me, but after I threw back the covers and went comfortably back to sleep, I'd wake again, chilled to the bone by the frost outside that crept in through the cracks. In the morning I woke with an aching shoulder, back and knees. I have felt tired, sore, head-achy, nauseous and dizzy all day.

When I went to hang the washing out, I saw and smelled my daphne bush. I have bought and killed more daphne bushes than I can remember. I bought another four years ago, Wrong time of year - it was in full flower and I kept it inside to enjoy the fragrance. My friend Marcia visited and was horrified: there were woolly aphids all over it! She told me what to do, and where to plant it. It's the first daphne bush that has lasted more than a year. This morning as I breathed in the sweet smell I thought of Marcia who died just over a year later.

I took a photo of the bush, and when I went to look at it on the computer, the file was next to last year's photos for the same day and thus I was reminded that it is a year since our beautiful NgTong died.

Despite all this, I felt happiness seeping through the daze.

How could I be miserable when I'm alive and there was sunshine and bees?