Old Petty People in November.

November 4th Ray decided we would go on one of our little adventures.  First we got petrol at Z.  Driving out of there Ray took the wrong turn because it was easier, no cars were coming that way!  So we did a short circular tour of that part of town and set off north on the highway.  We turned on to Whites road, so I knew we were not going to Tirau, and probably not Matamata.  We passed Leslie Road, so I knew we were not going the Blue Springs.  We passed the turn-off to Okoroire so I knew for sure we were not going to Matamata.  We had already passed Waikmakariri road, so it looked like we were heading to Rotorua, a place Ray does not like to go. 

It never entered my head that he might be heading for Waiohutu road, but that was where Ray turned.  It is a road that leads only to a farm, and might be called a private road. Ray parked the car in a clearing beside a batch of hay bales.  We walked down the road.  Down, down  the road.  On our left a drop-off would have been alarming were it not for the thick bush.  To our right the land went upward just as steeply.  From one spot we could see the Rotorua highway away up a cliff. In the gully were some old tall trees.  How they escaped the saw in the early days is a mystery. We reached the bottom of the gully. Up the other side went the road.  Ray did not think it was as steep this side, but dreaded going back up the road we had come down.  After 2km we came to the farm which we knew was there, but we did not recognize it.  We do not remember how long ago that was that we drove up that road, reached the farm gate and turned back.  This time we were walking, so did not seem so intrusive.  Even so, I did not like the idea of walking up the road to the main house, but Ray had no such compunction, and that was a lucky decision.

We were standing admiring the view when an old lady on a quad bike drove down a dirt road.  She and her husband bought the place, I think she said in 2006, as a retirement block.  They have been busy farming it ever since.  That is, she has, with help from her son. She must be well into her eighties.  Her husband is dependent on oxygen.  She had a lot to say, and did not mind talking to us.  A remarkable woman who seems able to turn her hand to anything.  It turns out she is Rosie Glover. 

She gave us her telephone number, telling us we could come and walk on the farm anytime.  Walking groups from all over do that. But to phone her first.   We met her son Lindsay who drove down on a big tractor.  I thought it was before 2006 that we had driven up there to see where the road went, had seen nobody and turned around and returned.  The farm did not seem the same to us.  Amazing how bad both our memories and our powers of observation are.  Yet one time, and it could not have long after that, Ray met Rosie in town and having got talking, found out where she lived.  She issued the same invitation then.  We got around to phoning them once, but received no reply, and did not try again.

An amazing hidden place. We intend to take her at her word.  Ray took a photo of me near an interesting shrub, then we walked back to the car.  We had not been looking forward to the steep hill back to the highway, but for me it was not that steep after all.  I did not have to stop for a heart-rest, and that is my criterion of steepness!  Ray plodded up, but thought it difficult.  Called at Count Down because Ray wanted more chocolate milk.  I should not have gone in, because I bought other things and I had hoped not to spend on groceries this pay.  What a dreamer!

Ray's next adventure was unplanned and not pleasant.  We were at Tokoroa and decided to walk around the lake. The man-made lake had been partially drained again.  We walked from the Maraetai road carpark round the foot of the weir.  We saw black swans and almost fully-grown cygnets, still with some of their baby colouring  I had never seen any like that, and neither had Ray, who took photos.  I wondered whether Nathan had seen any.

There was a sign, which read Do Not Walk on the Lake Bed.  Ray considers himself above the law, which he considers to be the proverbial ass.  He thought the dry sand near bank would be pleasant to walk on.  I told him he was setting a bad example for any children who might see him, especially any LDS children who might know us. Actually there were no young people around.  I walked along on the grass bank and he walked on the narrow dry layer of sand in the lake bed.

I came to a part where the bank was steep, so walked further inland, at which point I could not see Ray.  Then I heard a splash.  He has never fallen in!!!  But he had.  He had come to a culvert and attempted to cross the stream that flowed through it by stepping on some concrete slabs protruding from the water.  Somehow he slipped into the fairly deep pool that had formed there.  I went to where I could look down and saw he was still in the water.  On his feet, and soaking wet, but in the water, and having a bit of a hard time climbing out. Then it occurred to me to take a photograph! Should have done when he had just fallen in!  He struggled up the bank and we began to walk slowly towards the path to return to the car. 

Unfortunately the episode had been observed by a young grandmother, Kura, who was out wheeling her granddaughter Heavenly in a pushchair.  Imagine naming a child Heavenly!  Kura came ask Ray if he was all right.  Just at that moment Ray discovered he wasn't.  He said he felt queer, and began to collapse.  Kura and I kept him from falling, and laid him gently on the grass.  He was fortunately in the shade of a coniferous tree.  Kura was overly helpful.  She called a passing exerciser to phone for an ambulance.  I thought that unnecessary and so did Ray, when he realized what she had done.  

Ray was soon able to get up and walk to a nearby park bench.  He discovered he had grazed his elbow and the base of his thumb. His wrist was painful, but did not seem to be broken, and his elbow was really sore.  The ambulance having been sent for, there was nothing for it but to sit and wait.  I occupied the time trying to dry out Ray's camera, which I thought had not got too wet inside the zippered case, but an orange light appeared on it and would not go out even when I turned the camera off.  Ray was more concerned lest his camera be ruined than anything else.  He thought he might have done in his watch too.  Both survived intact.

So the ambulance arrived, and parked beside the nearby road.  The attendant, a loud-voiced woman named Carla came across, and went through her obligatory routine.  The only thing that bothered her was Ray's high blood pressure.  Over 170/140 or something like that.  But that is normal for Ray.  It might not be healthy, but it is normal.  She drove Ray back to the car in the ambulance, and there she filled out her report.  She insisted he go to the medical centre to have his blood pressure checked when we got back to Putaruru.  At my request she provided band-aids for the gashes on his hand and elbow.  Meanwhile I had walked back to the car.  When I there I realized Ray was not the only one suffering from shock.  Now the excitement was over, my knees got weak!  I did not want any lunch either, which was not me at all!

Ray found it painful to drive with his right arm so sore, but managed all right – except he could not fasten his seat belt.  He was of course still pretty wet.  In the back of the car we carry some emergency stuff,  and sometimes wonder why.  Several times I had asked Ray to give me a change of his clothing for me to keep there, but he always said that would never be necessary!  I offered him mine, though the trousers would not have met round his waist, and the shirt would surely be too tight.  Instead we found things to protect his car seat from the wet and we set off.  He agreed to let me go to New World for some things I could not get in Putaruru, and promised to stay in the car.  He does not like to be told what to do, but I insisted he have a drink of water and eat a small candy bar.  He did that, but did not stay in the car, but came into the shop.  He said it took his mind off his painful arm, which was fair enough.

We got to Putaruru safely.  We took our purchases into the house from the hot car, and Ray got into dry clothing, then we went to the Medical Centre, where Ray was able to see a practice nurse.  She made a return appointment for another blood pressure test in a week's time.  There was no follow-up from this, so we suppose his blood pressure is acceptable. Next we drove to the other side of town buy petrol, and get some cat-food and couple of perishable things from Count Down.  Ray was a long time paying for the petrol.  I assumed he was just talking, so thought nothing of it.  Seems he had been having a great joke with the salesgirl.  When Ray got his wallet out to pay, all his money was stuck together and they had a hard time separating it.  She dried it for him with a cloth.  He spent some time later that afternoon getting all his cards unstuck, and copying out sodden notes he had made on bits of paper and stuck in his wallet.   So that was our adventure in Tokoroa!