December 2012 blog.
After much warm weather, December came
with near freezing night temperatures, which sent me scurrying to find sacks
and other things to cover young plants in the garden. As it did not actually
get below 1 degree above freezing, I probably did the plants more harm than
good, but they all survived and are now bearing fruit – or I should say –
vegetables. The end of December found me fighting back the wilderness areas of
the garden. Sometimes I feel like giving the whole thing up.
On one of our many visits to Tirau, I
got a book from the library about the English Village. It was an eye-opener in
some ways, though there was nothing in it I did not vaguely already know. The
time the village was at its best was the six centuries from the Saxon take-over
of England until the Norman conquest. It was functional and reasonably fair to
all. The weakness was that it was not defensible, unlike the Celtic stockades
that preceded it, or the Norman manors the succeeded.
Ray bought two packets of X-pol
(underfloor insulation). We did not have the trailer with us that day, so we
tied them on top of the car with rope, lashing them to the roof through the
open windows. The snag was, doing that, we could not get into the car. So Ray
got in, and I fastened him in! I thought I might have to walk home, where he
would have to wait until I arrived to set him free, but I was able to climb in
through my open window. I would never otherwise have thought to try that! On
the main street of town too. I hoped no one was watching. I did not look around
to see! Back in our driveway, I had to reverse the procedure. We thought for a minute
or two that we might be trapped in the car forever. People would come one day
and find our skeletons. However, once I got the idea of how to do it, getting
out was easy. Sit backwards in the open window and put first one leg outside,
hoping it almost reaches the ground, and then the other! Just in any you ever
need to know! Being pleased with myself for developing that skill, I'll
probably never need to do it again.
On 13th December we finished the underfloor insulating!
Hooray! I thought I would feel ecstatic when it was finished, but I felt
nothing! That tends to happen, I have found.
I got into Family Search, and tried the
new Family Tree that Glenys told me about. I found nothing to add to what we
have on the Tree, but somebody had messed up my David Evans line. There was an
email address for the contributor, and I wrote her a long letter, only to be
told the address was permanently cancelled. What a waste of effort! And I did want
to know what relation she might have been – actually, probably none. I think
she got the wrong David Evans. Too bad, because she had taken his line back
several more generations. So it goes. I also found on the Family Tree what
Laurie is not on it, and I could not find out how to add her. Her and Jessica.
Perhaps because they are living, I have no right to. I sent an email to Family
Search about the problem, and actually got an answer, but I could not make
sense of it.
From the family we had unwelcome news.
Laurie wrote in Facebook that their garage caught fire. The barking of a
neighbour's dog woke the neighbour, who came pounding on the Petty doors and
windows. It was the middle of the night. The fire chief said another 15 minutes
would have seen the main beam of the garage alight, and thence the house. Jane
was understandably grievously upset because her beloved pet rabbits died in the
fire. In fact, were the cause of the fire, because David had a light burning
near their hay. When the TV news crew arrived to interview them, David
suggested a caption for the item be “Genius Dog Saves Idiot Family”. I do not
suppose they used.
We watch a few TV programs, and caught
one about an obsessive hoarder. We can tell for sure that the Old Pettys, even
with their junk-filled garage, are simply not in the same league. That man had
one small space left, where he ate and slept, and that was in a chair in front
of his computer. To prepare his food, which was always toast and boiled eggs,
and a cup of tea, he had to crawl through a narrow tunnel to the kitchen, where
his gas stove was in a space perilously enclosed by piles of magazines and
papers. To get to the front door took him, he said, half an hour. He did get
out occasionally, for he had a small job. Delivering papers!
One day Ray decided he wanted to go to
Whakamaru. I am glad we did not buy our house in the village. It seemed a great
place to live then, but I do not think so now. It has changed and so have I.
Nostalgia is fine in its place, but “one cannot step into the same river twice”
as the old Greek philosopher said. We walked around the village, and then drove
to Mangakino to see the changes there. The village centre is much improved. In
one new building is the post office at the front with the library at the back.
One can walk through from one to the other. There is an Op Shop on the main
street, and a brand new bakery which was going to open the next day. We'll have
to go back!
It will come as no surprise to any of
you to learn that our Christmas was quiet! In fact, I did no more than a few
steps out of the section for the whole Christmas week. I would not even have
taken those few steps but once when Ray was keeping an eye on next door while
the neighbours were away, he asked me to come with him on his tour of
inspection, so that I could admire their enclosed garden. The other occasion
was when I saw a glorious sunset sky, and walked out on to the road to see it
better.
So now it remains to wish all of you a
fulfilling New Year. With love from Nan.
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