March 21, 2009

Vegas


Blogging these days comes a poor 23rd to work, baby wrangling, gardening etc, and I can't believe it's been almost a month since my last post (and that one was pretty lame). My computer is going at grindingly slow speeds, so who knows if I will finish this one in the time I have to a suitable Pulitzer Prize winning standard or not? I am also sleep deprived today from listening to our downstairs neighbour flush his toilet, move his furniture, have a shower at 2.15am (which makes our pipes rattle) and 'be' with his girlfriend. Oh - I had to break up a fight between Charlie and his nemesis, the ginger ninja from across the cul-de-sac by clambering into my neighbours backyard at 3.30am. There are no earplugs good enough to block any of that out, so I'm shattered today.
So what I wanted to talk about was Vegas (to non-New Zealanders, I mean Rotorua; hot, stinky city of thermality) where we went on holiday last week. The Postie competed in an off-road half-marathon and did so well, he crossed the finish line before we even got there to see him (only two minutes, but I feel stink nonetheless). Postie's parents and sister came down to see us, and wee Jessica too who is growing up so fast.
One of the highlights of the trip was spending the night at Lake Tarawera with Postie's pal Christine. She's setting up a wellness retreat at her place, where the view of Mt Tarawera and the lake are Amazing. She has families of wild quail visit her pad, and a spa pool in the bush above the house. We soaked in it under an almost-full moon on a night with no wind; the only rustling was from birds in the undergrowth. Harper was treated to lots of attention from hungry swans on the lake the next morning, he loves animals and tried to walk off the edge of the jetty we were on to get to a curious swan.
Speaking of walking, Harper took his first unassisted steps while we were in Rotorua. He loves me holding his hands and walking him around, but I sneakily untangled my hands from his and he stood for a while not knowing what to do. I scooted around in front of him so he could see me and he took six steps before collapsing into my arms. We both squealed and laughed like hyenas. His record so far is eight steps, taken at a playground in Levin on the way home.

2 comments:

noizy said...

Walking. Trouble.

Beth up North said...

Your blog makes me smile. Keep up the good work and say "hi" to the postie for me.