GARDENS AND OTHER THINGS

It's only one story

I ended my last blog with a photo of the sign that said that our house was for sale.
Craig Palmer, of Metro Dunedin, asked me if I would write something about my experiences of having lived in our house for nearly 40 years.  And so I did and have decided to blog this little story.  Craig sold the house within a week!  He fulfilled his promise to make the sale as painless as possible and I can thoroughly recommend him.

Kowhai in full bloom, October 2013

In 1966 we bought our first house.  A rambling roughcast house which needed a lot of renovations.  We were not daunted.  We were young.  The main attraction of this house was its quarter-acre garden.  We wanted a garden where our Down syndrome daughter Miriam and our twin sons Foster and Ray could play and run around to their hearts content.  This garden became an adventure place for our children, initially playing in sandpits, using the swing in the huge chestnut tree, then moving on to climbing trees, running around chasing each other, always having friends around.

Photo on right was taken in December 1966

 Unfortunately, Doodle, our black, shiny 'sheep dog' was hit by a car.  She loved to chase cars and people on bikes, perhaps training for the sheep that might eventually wander into our street!  At that time we had a white kitten. Doodle's favourite pastime was to pick up the kitten, run to the bottom of the section with the kitten in her mouth, run back and deposit the poor wee thing in the dust under the house.  Whatever we did, she had to follow her hunting instinct.  The kitten survived!

We did extensive work to improve the inside of the house, taking out walls and chimneys to create an open living space.  The garden stayed the same, an open place to use trikes and play soccer and other ball games.  Our whippets, Dody and Muffin joined in the fun. 

Miriam with dogs and Ray and Foster on trikes

In 1973 we decided to have a two-storied house built on our back section and it was a special moment when in September 1974 we moved into our new sunny house.

Foster, Ray and Bart creating a new path alongside our old house (1975)

Bart built retaining walls, for us a priority to keep our house safe.  Later, surrounded by bags of cement, sand and a pile of grey uneven shaped rocks we created rock walls close to the house.  Water and a fine mixture of cement and sand bonded the stones together.  I remember thinking: these walls won't move once the mixture between the rocks has dried.

We created a garden where we could rest and relax between bouts of work, either indoors or outdoors.  Using Kokonga stones Bart made a terrace.  We planted shrubs and trees and flowers that gave an intensity of colours.  There was no organised colour scheme but the texture of the plants created their own images.  I planted a climbing rata against a bank, thinking of the day when I would see its red fluffy flowers amidst the dark glossy leaves.  Near the letterbox we planted a kowhai.  A hamamelis found a place in a corner where it displayed its yellow tendrils in the middle of winter, just before the first spring flowers shot through the winter earth.  I knew that whenever I planted a tree or shrub, a small part of myself secured a stronger hold on living in this new land.

The countdown to leaving has started.  I'm dreading having to say goodbye to our special suburb where we've lived for more than 50 years.  As I move from room to room - sorting, tidying, cleaning - I think of the good times we've had in this wonderful part of Dunedin, the many friends we've made, the old-fashioned caring attitude of people around us.  The changes we've observed in half a century.

And now our apple tree is in flower again.  The beginning of a new cycle, new growth.  I am sure the new owners will enjoy its beautiful apples.  Our Dutch habit of often eating appelmoes (apple sauce)  will have to be modified.  But ... there's always the fantastic Farmer's Market!

Apple tree in 1981

 

MEMORIES

This is the last spring we celebrate in this house.  More to follow in my next blog.  Yesterday  I took a photo of our yellow plum tree.  It's a bit like a Christmas card with its radiant display of white, green and red.  In late afternoon I sat on the balcony and absorbed the bridal beauty of this gorgeous tree with the rata and red camellia in the foreground.

Plum tree, native rata tree and camellia bush.

 During the past week our family has been absorbing memories.  Memories of being together as a family with Foster and Frances arriving from Thames in the North Island to take part in the 50-year celebration of the Survey School at the University of Otago.  Foster and I enjoyed being part of Basil Jones' party at The Link on Friday night, a special occasion for both of us.  For Foster it was good to meet up with his 1984 entrance class mates, and for me to see so many students I met during the nearly quarter of a century working at the Survey School.  It was delightful to catch up (and recognise!) people I knew as young students and to be recognised as well.  A warm and sincere time.

 Foster and Frances enjoyed the special Survey School celebration dinner at the Toitu Museum on Saturday night.  This is such a lovely photo of them, dressed up to party.

Foster and Frances ready to celebrate.

 Earlier in the week we had another special memory occasion when two couples visited us, all connected through the School of Surveying.  Ever since I retired we've stayed in touch with Allan Blaikie (Acting Head for several years) and his wife, Mary.  They moved to Rangiora and we have lovely memories of staying with them and being totally spoiled.  We spend a lot of time going back to the old days.  The other special couple to visit us came from Auckland.  As always, so lovely to see them too and to bring back the old days but also focussing on the moment.  Sylvia and Norman Sloper are in the same position as we are: moving house.  Norman's first wife, Pat, was my colleague at Survey School.  She died tragically in a car accident.  Sylvia's husband, Gus, died several years ago and now it is wonderful to see how Norman and Sylvia have found happiness together.  Our children have known these couples for many years and it was a special treat for them to meet up with both couples.

ltr: Mary, Sylvia, Norman, Allan, Ray, Bart, Foster and Frances

 I end this blog with the Metro For Sale sign in our drive.  The start of ending forty years of living in our 'brown' house with its glorious views and more than fifty years in this wonderful suburb.  Howie, the photographer, came on Tuesday afternoon and I saw myself as a 'snow plough', removing unnecessary items before the photos for the internet were taken.  But, he made a beautiful job of those photos as he managed to get my 'certain hill' (a previous blog) in many of them.

DIFFERENT BALANCES

 It's an unsettling time, clearing and sorting Miriam's bedroom, her Scotch Chest, her large cupboard which holds photo albums as well as boxes with old photos.  And then there are the coats we have gathered over so many years.  Some quite worn, but oh so comfortable.  I ask myself, how many coats does an old woman need?

 No delicate branch acrobatics for me either while I'm trying to balance my time, appointments, working on Tipping the Balance, a novel for young adults.  It's good to be back 'inside' that historical novel again. 

During day time the kereru is busy in the tree outside my study.  It's wonderful to see the huge bird, trying to balance itself on fragile branches.  The flowers aren't out yet and I hope our neighbour won't cut down this safe haven for birds.
How I love watching this gorgeous creature with its proud chest and delicate colouring.

Kereru

 At night I look out of my window and see the new moon.  It moves so fast within my dark window, 'sailing' from the upper right hand corner to the middle left.  It inspired me to write this simple poem.

Closer to the moon

The new moon hangs outside my window.
A bleached pumpkin,
peeled, cut, sliced,
processed into soup or stew,
added to an avocado salad.

Do astronauts think of white pumpkin soup
while occupying orbits?

Do they think of wives in kitchens on earth,
taking kids to school,
putting pumpkin pie in lunch boxes?

I wonder whether thoughts of fear and failure still circle them
while being closer to the moon?
Are there racing thoughts of urgent bills to be paid,
of fragile relationships that need mending?

Perhaps they too dream of pumpkins growing
while staying on the ground.

HH 2013

BIRDS AND BEES

 This morning's front page of the Otago Daily Times (our local paper) shows a fantastic photo taken in the Dunedin Botanic Garden of a kowhai tree in flower with a kereru digging into the goodness of the flowers of this beautiful tree. There are also two smaller photos of a tui and a bumblebee enjoying the flowery nibbles on a mild July day.  Mild?  Middle of winter?  Daffodils in a white vase inside, windows wide open, bell birds singing outside while they, together with tui and wax eyes, wait for their daily dose of sugar water.  More details about our unusual weather in this afore mentioned article.

 During the past year I've posted photos of tui sipping sugar water from a large plate on our balcony, photos of kereru sitting on branches of the Vergilia trees outside my study, but unfortunately have never tried to take a photo of a bumblebee.

 The ODT photographers are very good and it's always fascinating to observe how they find special areas in our town that need our awareness.  Daring too!  When in early 2000 Miriam had her exhibition in the Moray Gallery, Stephen Jacquerie (ODT) stood on the pergola rafters to take a photo of her sitting down in our garden surrounded by dozens of her paintings. 

Back and cover pages of book about Miriam

 Tonight Bart and I went to the launch of Raymond Huber's stunning children's book Flight of the Honey Bee with amazing illustrations by Brian Lovelock.  Claire Beynon launched the book in a witty and thoughtful speech.  It was wonderful to be with our friends at this happy occasion.  The book is dedicated to Raymond's and his wife Penelope Todd's first grandchild, Spencer Bond.   What a lucky child he is.  The book has already been translated into the Danish language.  Let's hope it will be translated into many other languages as well.  This book deserves to be treasured.

THE SEASONS COME AND GO

Time to prepare

The Helleborus is out!

 We are still in the middle of winter, so far having survived a few snowstorms, high winds, heavy rainfall and, in the centre of New Zealand earthquakes with massive aftershocks.  We think of the people in Wellington and Christchurch, having to cope with these scary rumblings.

 Each year I'm excited when I see the first flower of the Christmas Rose (above).  I planted it nearly 40 years ago.  It's surrounded by several other Hellebore with purple and lilac colours, and taller stems but I just adore this little one.   Here in Dunedin we've had beautiful spring days, temperatures up to 15 degrees C.  and Bart has been in the garden, clearing and tidying as he goes.

 Clearing and tidying is going to be our main task for the next few months as we are now preparing for our big move early next year to the Summerset Bishopscourt Retirement Village in another part of town.  I don't really want to think yet of leaving our very special suburb of Opoho after having lived here for 53 years but we cannot afford to stay here any longer.  In the meantime our focus will be to concentrate on clearing this house with its five bedrooms and keep enough furniture and 'chattels' to fit a small apartment with two bedrooms.   So, after having emptied cupboards and wardrobes we already have left various bags at the Red Cross and other second hand outfits.  There are more to follow.

  Then came a small challenge.  The photo I'm inserting below shows a clean version of a carboy.  You should have seen it before Bart put the hose in it.  When we moved into this house in 1974 I filled this carboy with soil, charcoal (to keep the soil moist) and pebbles in which I planted begonias and tiny ferns and other green bits and pieces.   After a few years, life's hectic pace took over and I totally ignored the carboy and the plants (shame, woman, shame!).  Gradually the plants withered and all that was left was a dark mass at the bottom.  But we cleaned the glass jar with sand soap and garden hose and hey presto: here it is.

Clean Carboy

 When we shifted from the front house which we bought in 1966 to this newly-built house I thought of the John Lennon song 'Imagine'.  And as we carried our few possessions down the drive I hummed 'imagine no possessions' and thought how lucky we were to move into our new home.  Now the time has come to let go of some of those possessions, and I feel grateful that a sense of detachment is slowly taking over.  As long as I've got my family, friends, music and books I'll be all right.

 Now off to the next project: clearing another wardrobe in a room that looks out onto this glorious camellia.

Here's to a spring day in the middle of winter.

MIRIAM's LEARNING PLACE

GOOD NEWS

Stella and Donald Cullington at DCLC with ltr Nichola Ferguson, Miriam Hellendoorn and Rebecca Thompson

So much has happened but with this blog I want to acknowledge the generosity of Dunedin residents with the result that the Dunedin Community Learning Centre can continue to function.  What a relief it was to hear that the Lotteries Community Funding has offered support for another three years and that so many Dunedin people, after reading the Otago Daily Times' article about the possible forthcoming closure of DCLC, came forward with generous donations.  At this stage I can name a few, the Accounting firm Deloitte; Mrs Dawn Ibbotson; Stella and Donald Cullington; the Junior School of John McGlashan College who gave half the money they raised by their Readathon (GO WELL Boys!).  And not to forget that every time we buy Anchor Milk products their support of fundraising sets in.

There are so many others and at our recent Pot Luck Dinner Trudy Scott acknowledged the other donors.  She writes in her latest news: 'It was great to meet again or for the first time some of our generous sponsors.  They are truly lovely people with caring hearts.'

Oh, yes, Trudy!  You are so right.  And what a relief for all of us, parents and caregivers of your students, to know that our children will be stimulated and supported by you and your equally generosity-inspiring team.

The amazing work of The Dunedin Community Learning Charitable Trust (The Trustees are Christine Thompson, Sandra Boock, Katherine Sturgeon, Paul O'Neill and Eric Shelton) has to be acknowledged with 'gold accolades'.  The Trustees have gone beyond the call of duty to keep the Centre open and their latest effort is a wonderful pamphlet outlining the DCLC's History, Student Comments, Life Skills, Community Based Learning and their Dream for the Future.  Here are some of the photos and Student Comments in this delightful and impressive leaflet:

"I learn things"
"I like swimming"
"I like painting"
"It's fun"
"We make things"
"We have fun and make friends"
"I like mowing lawns"
"It's fun when the Otago Polytechnic students come for work experience"

And more great news:  In the meantime the Fundraising Committee has met to discuss a few ideas in the pipeline and as Trudy writes, 'they are working hard on behalf of us all.'

Thank you all.  We count our blessings and keep believing in miracles.

NEARLY WINTER

Wake up to snow with a Maruia thermometer on zero.

Wonderful surprise to see the snow this morning.  Dunedin's hill suburbs are challenging to negotiate when snow and/or ice take over.  Schools stay closed as do the motorways going north and south. It usually doesn't last long and we are still young at heart to enjoy the excitement of a different view.

But Miriam will be worried.  She now goes by taxi from her new abode to the Community Learning Centre and the routine of her day will be interrupted when she can't go there because of the weather.

Since she left home I have missed her so much, and deep in my heart still felt cold fear and concern about the new situation.  I cried a lot, especially when I'd go into her bedroom.   But then came Mother's Day!  Miriam gave me a gorgeous wee box with little gifts (bubble bath and a cookie) she'd made herself at CLC and proudly presented them when she and Ray came for lunch at 12.00 noon.  We had a lovely time sitting together, chatting, eating, drinking wine.   Miriam doing her Word Find.  We'd had our coffee and gluten-free cake (Miriam recently had a diagnosis of Coeliac Disease -  phew!!!!) and just after 2 o'clock Miriam put her Word Find in her bag, looked at her watch, looked at me, looked at her watch again, looked at me again - was she trying to hypnotise me???  I thought of the little word circles coming out of people's heads in cartoons  and I could hear her thinking I want to go home.  I knew this routine from previous situations when we were out visiting so I took her hand and said, 'Darling, you are ready to go back?'

Well, you should've seen her face.  A shining beam, wide gleaming eyes, 'Yes, Mum, thank you.'

And I thought, there is now need to worry any more.  It was as if a heavy load had disappeared.  Exactly two months to the day when she left home she showed me that the routine of her new home had become as important (and perhaps even stronger) as the routine she had with us.  What a gift these few words were.  To receive them on Mother's Day made them even more special.

A few days later I mentioned to my sister in Holland what had happened.  She said, 'Oh, that must have hurt you so much!'   And I was glad when I could say, 'No, I don't feel hurt at all, I can only be grateful that my adult daughter has responded in her own way to this latest challenge.'

Routine means a lot for people with Down syndrome.  I can understand that we as parents have been part of that routine in her life and that we now have truly let her go, knowing that she will keep on adjusting to the changes in her life and in her own way will rise to any challenging situation.  The wonderful staff at McGlynn keep telling us that Miriam is very independent! 

There are challenges ahead for us too.  This will be the last winter we'll have in this wonderful house.  More about that in another blog when I hopefully will be able to untangle some gnarled branches.

This morning's photo of ladder in the apple tree (as in a previous blog!)

One more.  I'm like a child when there's snow, can't stop taking photos.

'Think of those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer.'