The pohutukawa trees are just starting to strut their stuff, brilliant red blooms appearing all over their greenery in time for Christmas. They are often called the NZ Xmas tree.
We arrived back at the weekend (I never ran into Nick casually strolling along a road in Brisbane. He was on the Coast - but in his honour I am re-reading the True Story of Butterfish, which I secretly think should have been called the True Price of Butterfish *g*). I have swung into action with Christmas preparation. I haven't sent any cards overseas so if you were waiting, it might shuffle over with its head bowed some time in January... sorry! I got Viv's one though *g* she is so organised! Thanks xx. And a card from KYLE! Kyle, I love you! And Moth, you send the most delicious ecards in the world!
I have bought a nice little pine tree for the living room and just made a Christmas cake for the first time with pineapple in it. Pine pine. Canned pineapple. It seems quite nice. I made one for some friends as well. I've made chocolate logs as gifts and shortbread. I have cleaned things. I have done weeding and chopping in the garden. I have gotten a WOF for the car. I have even bought some gifts. Not done yet though. But I'm not panicking. It just doesn't seem so important this year. But OMG I love being on holiday. I want to write. I want to write and write but I need some time - I think I will book in days after Christmas. Days just for me!
My mother seems to have recovered back in Tauranga. We are going to surprise her with a cat! Our friends' daughter is shifting to England and needs to offload a very sweet little cat just a year old. Her friend was going to take it but let her down so we are going to drive it to Tauranga after Christmas and just plonk it upon my mother. She has a great section, a cat door and all that, and misses her old cat. We've always had a cat in the house. So. We'll have to go for a long delivery drive between Christmas and New Year, I suspect.
I can think so much more clearly in the holidays. My head is buzzing with ideas. A good friend met me for coffee at the airport on Sunday afternoon and gave me a poetry book for Christmas, one made by a friend of hers, and containing two of her poems. I am kind of proud and also a bit jealous. I wanted to be the writer. She always got everything at school, head girl, dux, you know how it goes. And now she's in a book and I'm still languishing behind raising my gorgeous, precious children and doing a million other necessary things that come with that. But my time will come. My TIME WILL COME, she shouted.
Last week a Year 10 boy at Finn's college killed himself. We were away for the funeral. We have no idea why he did this, and so young, maybe 14 or 15? Poor wee boy. His name was Angus.
This week, a Year 13 boy at Asher's college killed himself. We will go to the rosary tonight, Asher and I. I am going because my principal asked me to - a lot of our PI (Pacific Island) girls will be there and we don't want anyone flying off the handle, copycatting or otherwise losing the plot over this latest tragedy. Asher will go with me out of respect for the life the boy had - tragic or not, he deserves a farewell that has some respect in it, so I'll make him wear his uniform.
Suicide seems so very selfish but I think that if someone goes that far, they're no longer able to cope with this world, and that's some kind of illness in itself.
And frankly, for some kids, this world sucks.
And on that note, I shall go clear a path through the Christmas prep debris so my husband can get past on his crutches!