The Parrot Place

When I first heard of the Parrot Place I thought that was just a description of where we were going to visit with friends to celebrate our young friend, Layla's 7th birthday. I like it when the place name says it all.  

The Parrot Place is a bird display and breeding centre in Kerikeri, about a 1.5 hour drive from here. There are approx 300 birds from all over the world.  Some birds are in cages with little plaques telling the visitors all about that particular bird, others are flying free, quite tame and will sit on visitors heads or shoulders and like to be hand-fed. Staff are on hand to warn you about the birds who like to peck at ear-rings. The whole place is spotlessly clean. Little doves wandering around on the ground take care of any dropped seeds, nuts, etc. 

 Emilia was a little reluctant at first but soon got the knack of feeding the quieter birds.

I took a liking to this pair, who were hiding around a corner out of sight of most of the visitors. I thought they looked all "peopled" out.  One reluctantly hopped onto my outstretched hand for a few seconds before returning to its mate in the corner.

                                        The cages are set amongst lovely subtropical gardens.

Taranaki Christmas 2025

I always come alive at Christmas.  Not that much life is required on my part, the next generation take care of the preparation and all the work.  I must admit watching them work happily together adds to my enjoyment.

It seems a shame when the cooks have worked so hard to produce a fantastic meal, that the food (or the gifts) is never the highlight of our family festivities.  Although Justine's hot honey glazed ham and carrots were much appreciated.

 

And her first ever pavlova was a resounding success.  

Maybe I should have said in my case they are not the most important or enjoyable part of the day.  They may be to some others.  For me, it's the gathering of family, having so many of them around me.  I declare the annual "silly family" photo gets crazier every year.

I only have a couple of weeks each year with all four of my children in the country, so like to make the most of that time. 

A couple of grandchildren and my great-g-daughter were missing but at least these aren't towering above me.  (Shhh, Aiden will be soon.)

I might be a silly old bat but my favourite part of the day is the games we play.  They vary a little each year depending on available space.  Justine and Bill have expansive lawns and gardens and the weather was warm if a little windy at times so there was lots of outdoor fun.  I'm pleased to report that I managed to take part in all events and didn't disgrace myself too much.

Affairs, anxiety or apathy

My Gran would sometimes refer to a "sorry state of affairs" and that's what I found myself saying when the best thing to happen all day was an email which offered me all sorts of exotic sexual pleasures.

Someone sure got the wrong address!

I thought that was hysterically funny then became alarmed thinking hysteria is a sign of anxiety, not apathy.  Maybe I'm anxious about my apathy.

I'm amusing myself now.  I feel better.

 

It must be spring

The spring weather has been as unpredictable as always.  I just give thanks that I live in the north and not in the South Island which has really been copping it.

I'm at a bit of a loose end.  There's no much I could be doing but I don't want to do any of it, lack the energy and the enthusiasm. 

I'm sort of bored with myself, if that makes sense, vaguely looking for the stimulus to kick start a sense of purpose.  Spring, with it's new life, new beginnings is all around me and I just sit and wait for what happens next.

 

 It's been two whole weeks since I’ve felt like creating anything. That’s something of a drought for me.

I finished all my Christmas present sewing projects and fell into a strange place, a mood that was very unusual for me. I suppose we can all, from time to time, be gripped by moods that are vastly different from our usual mien. A little random gene that manages to fight its way past all the others that dominate, fights its way to the surface and takes command for a time.  I'm confident it will soon be beaten back into the depths by the daily troops. For the moment that little random gene is holding all the others at bay – pretty good going for something that only pops up maybe once or twice a lifetime.

For the past week the only word I can think of to describe my mood is a malaise which is a word I associate with Victorian ladies who fainted and swooned and drifted around the place in a dream. Weren’t they always sinking into a malaise at the drop of a hat? In my malaise I just feel  exhausted, lifeless, zero energy, it's an effort to walk to the kitchen to turn on the kettle let alone feed myself. I don't feel unwell in any way, I just don't feel myself. 

And my mind feels as decrepit as my body, can't concentrate, had to swap books as the one I was reading suddenly became far too difficult to follow. And I even had trouble following the plot in a bodice ripper.

 

I'm confident eventually my daily genes will regain command, I will wake up one morning soon and my old self  will be back. I know my instinct to write about this until I can make sense of it will save me.  It's always been the way for me when something doesn't make sense.

 

Well, Hello again.

 “Nothing ever seems impossible in spring, you know.”
― L.M. Montgomery

Sounds good but, in all honesty, I think my blogging days are over.   I will probably post a few times a year to record significant (to me) events but nowhere near at the same rate as I did for years (since I started in 2009).

It seems to take longer to do the other things I do each day.  No, not just seems to.  It does.  And I think a record of my daily activities would be quite boring.  

I've always been frugal but am now taking frugal to whole new level as I'm saving for a trip to Bali in late April for my darling grandson, Michael's wedding to his beautiful Rose.  Unexpected car repairs this week gave me a bit of a fright but I should not have to curtail my social life too much to make the trip possible.

My younger daughter had another trip to Scotland a while ago and this time paid a visit to Graham, our friend at Eagleton Notes in the glorious Outer Hebrides, where I left a piece of my heart when I visited 10 years ago.  While there, she visited the home of Harris Tweed and brought me home a pack of small pieces, each about 40cm x 25 cm.  The pack included an equal number of little tags to verify the materials authenticity.  I have sewed these pieces into glasses/sunglasses cases which my family will receive as Christmas gifts.

 

 Not all of these are from the tweed, that would be a bit extravagant for the farmers in the family and their sunnies.

I've also made a fair few for our village market day, which is coming up soon, from my own material stash, including some from old ties which I purchase for a couple of dollars at op shops.  I might keep this next one for myself.

Most of the other items I've created have been given as gifts.  I should have taken photos as some of them were quite beautiful but I outlived the lifespan of my camera and I suspect it may be the same story with my phone.  Although that will have to be replaced, I can't imagine life without a phone these days.  Ha!  Must be a modern old girl after all.  

Both my daughters have been travelling lately.  My older daughter and her daughter have recently returned from completing a Camino de Santiago pilgrimage in Portugal and Spain.  I should say Leone has returned, Jami, my grand-daughter stayed in Europe and is currently touring in Italy and, luckily for me, posts lots of photos of her adventures.  I often curse all this modern technology, especially when I feel I'm not keeping up with the changes, but it's wonderful for keeping in touch with loved ones when they are far from home.

Justine, the younger daughter, has given up her working from home, long time job with an international company and joined forces with a tour company as a tour group leader.  From working from home for 23 years to tour groups, quite a change. She's in Vietnam at the moment with a group and loving every minute of her new role.  She does women only tours and a younger friend of mine is with her on this tour.

Finally we are having some nice spring weather.  It won't last for long.  Never does in spring but I enjoy it while it's here.   

The News

In order to stay focused on the positives, I've been looking at the negatives that sometimes creep across my path.  When I stumble across something that annoys me, I stop and have a good look at it.  I say stumble on purpose because I often come across them by surprise. 

Last night as I was watching The News, I realized I was feeling a number of negative emotions - hostility, anger, sadness, sorrow.  I've always watched The News, wanted to know what is going on in the world, and without knowing I was doing it half the time, raged against those who cause so much harm, destruction and human sorrow in the world.  Yet I've been known to advise myself not to waste my emotions on things I can do nothing about, to change the things I can. But what sort of monster would I be if I weren't touched by injustice.

I suspect watching The News is not doing me any good.  I listen to the radio during the day, catch The News every half hour and don't have negative responses.  Same when I read the newspapers which I must admit I don't do very often because of my failing eyesight.  I feel the visuals they show us on the TV are designed for impact, for their shock value.  And I've become too susceptible.

From here on in, no more TV News for me.  I will just try to have a positive influence in my little corner of the world.  To make things better for others if and when I can.  We'll see how we go, huh?

Bits and pieces

Bits and pieces are all I've got.  It's been months since I posted, there haven't been any major events, just the little bits and pieces that make up daily life.   Yet all those little events take on a life of their own as I age. Everything seems to take forever.

I've been working on thankfulness.  It seems to be all the rage these days, so I jumped on board and try to stay focused on the positives, what I can do as opposed to what I cannot.

So thankful I can still drive although my eyesight is failing and goodness knows what I'd sign up for if there were any fine print.   Yesterday I had to ask my friends to read out the menu for me as we lunched in style to celebrate a milestone birthday and I tried to remember how I'd felt when I turned 60.  Doesn't matter, I can assure you my taste-buds are in top working order.  I chose well and am thankful that I have people in my life with whom I can laugh out loud.

Forget the fact that I have no urge to quest too far afield in my car.  I would probably want to stop for a nap if I drove too far.  For now, I'm thankful that when I feel the need to be by the sea, feel a fresh breeze on my face, breath in the salty air, I can drive there and back in a few of hours and have a good nap when I get back home.

 I sometimes wonder if I should focus on every activity as it might be the last time I do it.  Not in the death is nigh sort of way but pay attention so I can remember it as the last.  It's as if I'm gathering memories to keep me company a bit later on in my life journey. 

Each week I suffer just a tad more during line dancing so I distract myself by trying to extract every last ounce of pleasure from it that I can.  And each week I force myself to keep going, next week it just may be a little too much.  

Was my latest long road trip to be the last I will make?  Maybe I should do one more and pay attention to every detail.   And after that graciously strike them off the list of Things I Love to Do.

I think if we were more aware of this each time something precious happens, it would be far more meaningful.

Old age doesn't bother me.   Not many of the limitations get at me.  Just a few that I think are unfair.  Especially thinning hair.  Really!  I can't see the point.  I've always had good hair, strong and straight, healthy and shining.  Now it requires a lot of attention to stay looking half decent.  I should have more sympathy for men who lose all their hair as has happened or is happening to my sons but that, to me, has always been Mother Nature's way of evening things out after women have to suffer through menopause.

If I can't think of anything more interesting to talk about this may very well be my last post.  Darn, I should have given it more thought and made it a bit more memorable for myself.  

Local beaches

Summer has gone and autumn is slowly drawing in.  The nights are slightly cooler, the days also.

 

This was probably the first summer in many years I haven't spent time with my camera searching for fresh photos.  This summer all my beach time has been people focused, either with my g-daughter who was visiting from Brasil or my siblings from Australia and England.  I did not take my camera to the beach even once.

I realized, around the time of my birthday in late January, that it's time to get serious about writing my story of my childhood.  So I've done my best to patch together the dozens of short stories I have written and tried to put them into some semblance of order.  I've sent the manuscript to my brother in England to edit for me and that has been returned with much appreciated comments and suggestions.

 

My two oldest relatives have, within a week of each other, shuffled off this mortal coil and left me feeling quite desolate.  It's no good my brain telling me not to be silly, it was to be expected at their age (96 and 103 respectively), I feel sad.

I fought the urge to retreat into a protective shell of silence.  I lost the fight and resorted to my usual coping strategy, my habit is to keep my thoughts and feelings to myself.   I needed to sit by myself in a beautiful place and try not to think, just "feel".  I had to wait a few days until the weather had cleared but now after just one half day of blue skies I can appreciate the beauty of my world and the beauty those two aunts brought to my life.

Time

Just before my 80th birthday I decided it was about time I got serious about writing my family story.  I've been writing bits for it for about 20 years and realized I probably won't have another 20 to get it done.  So that's what I've been doing these past few weeks.  My progress was slowed by an infection that knocked me for a six.  And I can certainly verify that one does not bounce back as quickly as one once did.  I tell myself to forget about bouncing, just get up and get on with it.

I most likely won't get back here to post about the North Island tour I had with two of my sisters after my birthday.   So I'll just leave a few photos.

  

 Taupo

 

 Huka Falls, Taupo

Waipunga Falls, Taupo Napier Road

  

Diamond Princess docked in Napier

Diver feeding the fish at National Aquarium of NZ in Napier

 

 

Main street, Napier on a Sunday after all the tourists had gone back to the ship

 

Mission Estate, Napier

Te Mata Peak, Napier

Fountain, Pukekura Park, New Plymouth

 

 Lake Mangamahoe, New Plymouth

Mt Taranaki, New Plymouth from my daughter's home.  No snow but plenty of decorations.

Places north

While I was tripping around showing my family the sights near where I live, one of my sisters asked were we near where we had seen a funny sign about littering on her last visit to NZ.  No, we weren't, we were in the Waipoua Forest and that sign had been in the Mungamuka Gorge which has just recently reopened after being closed since August 2022 until last December.  The road had suffered severe storm damage.

I wonder if it was re-erected when the roadworks were finished.

 

We visited Tane Mahuta, which is the largest living kauri tree in  New Zealand, named after the Māori god of forests and birds. It is over 2,000 years old and still growing, 51.5 metres tall, nearly 18 m to the first branch and 4.4 m in diameter.  It is magnificent.

 

 Unfortunately, it faces threats from kauri dieback, a fatal fungal disease.  Below, is the remains of another kauri, a very short distance away, which succumbed to the disease.

 

 

Unwrinkled heart

A friend, while wishing me happy birthday, commented that the wrinkles don't matter, I must just keep my heart unwrinkled.  I liked what she said enough to find out where the words came from. 

It's a quote from Thomas Bailey Aldrich - (November 11, 1836 – March 19, 1907) an American writer, poet, critic, and editor.

"To keep the heart unwrinkled, to be hopeful, kindly, cheerful, reverent - that is to triumph over old age."

A reminder to us that a youthful spirit does not wither with the passage of time. To keep our hearts full of hope, kindness, cheerfulness, and reverence.  The wrinkles time leave on our bodies is irrelevant.

 

A big one

My older daughter, Leone and Clare, the third youngest of my 10 siblings pulled off the surprise of the century for my 80th birthday.  I was already in high spirits, looking forward to a gathering of family and friends at my son and d-in-law's restaurant on Monday, 27th January, the day of my birthday. It was also a public holiday. 

 

The day before the Big Event Leone asked me to go with her to look at a house for sale near the beach where she and my older son live.  There, firstly one by one and then two by two I discovered two of my brothers and their wives, two of my sisters and a niece were all there.  My brother Peter and his wife live in England, all the others live in Australia.  I honestly had no idea, had no expectation that any of them would even think about coming all that way for a birthday.  One other sister made her appearance the next day.  I cannot begin to explain how delighted I was.  I blemished my  reputation as a speech maker by becoming overwhelmed and getting teary eyed.

    

Four sisters.  Only the youngest knows how to behave herself.

There are still a few bloggers around who will remember how my grand-daughter, Georgia and I spent hours in my kitchen together when she was a child.  She credits me with her love for cooking and her current role in hospitality.  Which is strange because all we ever cooked was muffins and I am a really lousy cook.  Look at the beautiful cake she created for me.

 

With my grandchildren and g-g-daughter beside me in white. 

One grandson was in Australia and unable to attend.

My family, who planned and schemed and worked so hard to give me a great party.

 

The Australians and English guests.  My niece proved expert at avoiding photos.

Siblings

 

Old and dear friends.  The two who have  been there for me for over 40 years. 

If you know me well you will have heard of Chris and Twink.

So proud of these four!

Emilia

It's been over two months since I last posted.  That makes me more of a rare occasion blogger than the irregular one I thought I had become.  I think I might become a special occasion blogger as I would like to continue to record special occasion.  My blog has been a great resource when I've tried to remember what happened when and just today I could refer back to a post in 2010 to find the name of a church.

While I was at it, I checked when my first blog post had been - 23 January, 2009.  Happy co-incidence!

That's what it was until I wandered off to do something else and forgot about this post.  I also said happy birthday to a brother on our sister's birthday. 

Ah well.  That's how life is these days.

Christmas came and was happily celebrated in a quiet-ish fashion.  The family was a bit scattered this time - Bernie had not yet arrived from Brasil and Justine and family were celebrating with Bill's family in Canada.   They had a wonderful time in the snow, too.

The pace of life picked up in the new year with the arrival of Bernie, Roberta and Emilia.  Little Emilia caught a cold somewhere between her home and here and was miserable for a few days. I think jet lag also played a part.  She loves water but didn't have any enthusiasm for catching tiny baby sea creatures in the little tidal creek that runs off from the beach at Waipu.   She just sat on the sand, looking unhappy, and watched her father trying to catch some for her.

For a child who rarely sits still, she was happier letting her father bury her in the warm sand.  Although she denied it, I think she drifted off to sleep for a while.

 The quiet Emilia was short lived.  Within a few days she was back to her lively, noisy self.