My baby sister turns 20 today. Isn’t she fabulous?

How about now?

And my older brother (in-law) will turn, oh I don’t know let’s just call it 40-ish on the 17th. He’s quite fabulous too.(This image has been edited, as to be less offensive to our younger viewers.)

Happy birthday! Love you both.

Sequoia and I were inspired by a website that calimed it was “so easy” to dye eggs using natural dyes. It made sense to us. Why rely on Red #40 and Yellow #5 when we had marigolds, lilacs, and beetroots in bloom. We gathered almost all of our ingredients from our very own yard.

Then we boiled them down and added a teaspoon of vinegar to each cup.

Even the most principled seven year old gets impatient waiting for natural dyes to work. Can’t we just add food coloring to help them?

The beetroot was the only one that didn’t need assistance. Although, I think if I had added about 3x as mauch of each ingredient it would have helped. Chili powder worked well to make a nice orange color. Broccoli and swiss chard leaves made yellow. Lavender petals made lavender. And we heard blueberries will make blue, although they are definitely not local or in season here, so we went without blue.
Here are our results. I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that most of the coloring came from the bottle. We’ll try again next year.

So here we were, relaxing in the little house that we are housesitting, watching Moko the cat go nuts over a piece of string, listening to NHPR (New Hampshire Public Radio) online. Similar scene to the rest of this week. And, just like the rest of the week, our ears were bombarded by Keith and Abby at the NHPR Pledge drive begging us for a donation. I hope that however low I get I never have to be the host of a pledge drive. So, after a few days of feeling guilty for our daily indulgence of NHPR without being members we gave in. We called in a hearty donation of $35, the minimum pledge. A pledge from New Zealand! “Isn’t that coolly cooliscious”.

Ummm Keith. We are embarrassed for you. And we rescind our pledge immmediately.

Here are some pictures of our ward: Moko (loco). He’s a killer.

Also noteworthy today: Nelson and I had a most perfect evening last night. Note the show playing on the computer, and the “american” mustard, and the giant cheeseburgers, and the beers. Yeah yeah I hear you, don’t worry they were local grass-fed (endangered maui dolphin) burgers.

What you might not have noticed in that first picture is the toasted buttered buns. Here’s a close up. Yum. D-lish.

Last week I taught a two classes at Waikato University. Nelson has taken on two sections of Intro to Environmental Education, a course required for all first year teachers (how cool is that?). I am wondering how Nelson transitioned into the role of university professor so smoothly. Just being a guest lecturer made me feel about 20 years older and caused me to have a night of binge drinking to reclaim my youth (It didn’t work, by the way).

It feels like just the other day when I was the one not paying attention in class, and here I was getting annoyed by the girl who was obviously IM-ing through my very carefully thought out lecture. (When asked, she said she was emailing an assignment to her work partner. Um, hello… Do I look like I’m in the market for BS? I was born after 1970… I know that 95 keystrokes per minute consistently for an hour is either a fantastic game of naughty tetris or an IM. Go sell that story to your other teacher.) Perhaps Nelson’s had a few more years than me to practice being mature.

Overall the classes went really well. Nelson brought me in to teach the class on “Intercultural Perspectives on the Envrionment”. I took my favorite teaching position, sitting on a desk at the front of the room facing the class. I did some great interactive activities, had the students discuss the reading, and spent a lot of time talking about intercultural sensitivity. All was fine until the end of the second lecture. Two very nice girls approached me and said “We think what you had to say was great, but you should know that sitting on a table is very taboo in the Maori culture”. UGH!

OK, so sitting on a table is taboo. This has to do with Maori people feeling very strongly that your poo end should not be anywhere near food. Fair enough. My bad. But eating in a classroom is also taboo. So, shouldn’t sitting on a classroom table be only half -offensive at most? I’ll tell myself yes to make me feel better.

For Kristen- (my lawyer-mom of 2-incredibly crafty sister)
She made me this quilt for my birthday in January. I am just now posting the pictures I promised her. She is amazing. I bow down to her skills.

Here are pictures from our Earth Hour no lights music jam night. It was the perfect opportunity to test out my new Canon G10 in low-light conditions. Yes, you heard me. G10. A step up from the G9 that was lost in the infamous grinching of ’08. I have to work my way through the manual since Canon seemed to change a few critical elements, but so far I am in love. It is incredible. I love it more than cheese.

Its first task was low-light, high action fire twirling. Here is Erwin:
I am a bit annoyed that I didn’t get a chance to look through the manual before Earth Hour, because I think if I had fiddled a bit more I would have been able to get a shot where his face was clear. But they came out nice anyway.

Here are some music playing hippies enjoying a candle-lit evening.



G10, you are a rock star. Hope everyone enjoyed their Earth Hour as much as we did. Nevermind that it is an act of symbolism whose good effects are probably outweighed by the amount of petroleum that goes into the making of a candle. Think warm, happy, let’s-save-the-planet thoughts. At least for an hour.

OK, I’ve tidied up a bit and I feel like I can now unveil our new house, er truck, er housetruck. We moved in about a week ago, leaving behind our tiny little train car. Although my mother doubts it, they do actually have normal houses in New Zealand, we just have yet to find ourselves in one. I still have a bit of cleaning to do, as it was a bachelor pad belonging to an unkempt gypsy. But, once I remove a bit more clutter (yes, there was more) we will be snug as bugs in, well, a housetruck.

Speaking of bugs. Thankfully we don’t have a lot of mice here in NZ, but there are heaps of spiders to remove from our new abode. I’ve been feeling quite brave lately. It’s easier when you know none of them can actually kill you.

This is our home from the outside. Sorry for the dream-time shimmer effect in the pictures; we’re getting a new camera this week. Yes, you can drive our house. Convenient in case of the aforementioned tsunami. Just wait, it looks even more like a hippie van on the inside (if possible).

This is our kitchen. We have running water from a rainwater storage tank on the roof that goes to a sink and a shower (that we dont use). We also have a wood stove for heating and cooking, a gas stovetop, and an oven. I can make bread and quiche again! We also have a fridge and lights, and plugs to charge our computers. Luxury.

This is our lounge and up above is our bed. There is a skylight so we can look at the stars as we fall asleep. There is another bed that we are using for storage above the driver’s cabin. So, now there’s no excuse for not visiting (except of course for the $1,000 airfare).

This is the ladder going up to our bed. Dangerous? Yes. More dangerous in the morning? Yes. Even more dangerous when you need to get up in the middle of the night for a midnight pee? Yes. But also very cool looking.

This is the view out our window.

This is nearly our whole home. Like I said, more tidying to be done. I’ll post more pictures with the final outcome.

I love our house. It was hand built by our friend Mike and was truly crafted. There is all sorts of detailed woodworking and bits that make it really special. I love that we have an oven. I love that we have a table where we can sit and do school work or have a quiet meal together. I’m learning to love the treacherous climb up and down from bed. It’s cute, and cozy, and all ours.

So apparently yesterday we were briefly under a tsunami watch.

Of course we didn’t find out until it was over, and no tsunami actually struck. Come to think of it, Nelson was out surfing during said “watch”, but that is not the point. We live in New Zealand, a highly developed nation, not some tiny island of 50 inhabitants. We are advised of every rugby league and cricket score from around the world and often given play by play accounts. Shouldn’t they have some way of letting us coast-dwellers know that a ginormous wave could come smashing down on us at any moment?

Granted the quake that could have spawned the psuedo-tsunami (not often that you can use 2 non-phonetic “s” sounds in the same sentence) happened in Tonga, which is 1,000 km away. And granted the tsunami warning was only 1 hour long. But still… I would like to know.

Luckily we live at the top of a large cliff. I think we’d be ok.

I have dived into the Euro-punk New Zealand fashion trends with a new haircut. Thoughts?

Let me put my two bits in, and say “Thank Goodness Nelson has finally cut his hair!”

The last few months have been an experiment in an escalating hair tragedy. Nelson has gorgeous hair; thick, dark, and wavy. But, every good thing has its limit. Some of our kiwi friends call it the “Greek God” look. I blame them for the length of the experiment. I’m just excited to have my boy back. Don’t get me wrong, I think he’s handsome no matter what, but doesn’t he look great now?

Before:

After: