Beached

I can't get to sleep. Just can't get comfortable. And now I've started to get itchy... the downward spiral begins. I could lie in bed and re-try all the different sleeping positions, hugging pillows, applying lotions... but Luuk needs his sleep and I wake him up enough in the night as it is.

It's the middle of the night, so forgive my utter lack of originality... but this is how I feel:

This was made a few years ago by some Australians, essentially to make fun of the New Zealand accent, among other things. The Kiwis liked it so much they sort of claimed it as their own.

Obviously, while I relate to the whale in many ways, I still have absolutely no problem eating chips. Just to be clear.

I had a thought, earlier today, while beached on the floor, awkwardly playing with Louis: at this point in my pregnancy with him was the last time I went to Cathedral Square in Christchurch. Louis was born betwixt quakes. The September quakes hit when I was 7 months pregnant. There was damage but the serious stuff all went down (quite literally) in the February quakes, when he was nearly 4 months old. Around the time he was due we had visitors from up north, a cousin and her boyfriend. We showed them the town, as you do. Back then, of course, Cathedral Square was right up there on the Christchurch-must-see list.

(Photo not mine. Belongs to this guy.)

I was feeling the full weight of pregnancy and needed to sit down for a while. So I found a spot under a tree and the others went into the Cathedral.

(Also not mine. The Otago Daily Times, in fact, have NOT given me permission.)

Now the cathedral looks more like this and no one's sitting under the trees in the square. Guess I should have taken the chance to wander through it again, but little did I know... and I wouldn't have appreciated it anyway - distracted by sore feet and all that jazz. I'd been in the church before, but never did go up the steeple. And never will.

On that charming thought, I might have another go at going to sleep. At least none of our neighbours are partying - that was another thing that happened just before Louis was born. All I wanted, then and now, was a good night sleep. Is it so much to ask?

Several Days Later

NB: this was written on Wednesday, 22 Feb, and I only just got to a wifi spot today.

There's nothing on tv except a Doctor Who episode that isn't making any sense to me. Reading is making me feel sleepy and I already had a big sleep this morning... I have no internet, but if I write a blog post then I can just copy it on next time I connect. I was going to visit the bibliotech (library, which has free wifi! And is very close to home) when we were out earlier, but Louis was past it and I took pity. He'd been in the pushchair for too long, I guess.

Got lots done though: ticked a few more things off the shopping list (matches, lemon squeezer, serviettes), found the obstetric radiology secretary in the hospital and made an appointment, found the laboratory where I'll do my blood test on saturday, got groceries (bread, stewed apples in a big jar, lasagne pasta, and peanut butter! Score!) and had a fantastic lunch at Cafe de la Gare.

Louis had his standard home-made jam sammies, which he enjoyed with the same gusto I did my croque, which I'm sad to say I forgot to take a photo of. It's basically ham and cheese grilled on bread, but this one had roast capsicum, feta, and possibly brie grilled on top – all well cooked enough that I went right ahead, pregnant and all. Came with delish salad and these chip things – thin sliced potatoes cooked beautifully, but not really crunchy. Hard to describe but yum yum yum.

Will definitely be going back there. Louis played in the playground again – after yesterday's success I couldn't resist a return. There were a bunch of other kids there both days and he had as much fun watching them as playing.

He more-than-happily stands against the side of the sandpit and picks up handfuls of sand, dropping them into my palm... even cries a little when it's time to leave. The park is so close I can see it from the veranda.

That's the park, right there, smack bang in the middle. (Looking left from the end of our veranda.)

 Looking out from our veranda to the right.

Looking down our street. That's right - cobbles!

This really is such a great neighbourhood. The buildings and streets are so picturesque, and everything is uncannily convenient: a whole selection of patisseries, a dangerous number of choclateries, supermarkets, train station, pharmacies, banks (ours and a bunch of others), restaurants... last night, on the way back from the homewares shop, I counted 6 pizza places. Luuk passes all of them on his way home every evening. Hm...

The homewares shop – that was fun. We have this monster list of things we want/need as we're still setting up here.

Our first furniture purchases – IKEA chairs! Assembled successfully by Luuk.

Lots of our list is bigger furniture, but there were plenty of little things and we made significant process last night. Fortunately some of the big shops are open till 8 or later on a regular basis. I am reluctant to make generalisations about the french, but they do seem to keep later hours. Anyway, it meant we could go together (Luuk and me) after work. Shame the place didn't have trolleys with baby/child seats... made it a bit less fun. But we picked out some beautiful and functional things. Colour-wise, we're going for a bright light blue, a lime green, and a deep purple. Once all the packaging has gone, and the last few purchases have been made, I'll take some photos, attempting the style of a home décor magazine...

[The Daleks are about to kill everyone. Although, I suspect, if I'd watched any real amount of Dr Who before, I'd know there was nothing to worry about.]

Should probably sweep the floors but would have to tidy away the toys first and really both activities would require more energy than I have right now.

Louis enjoying the chaos.

Failed to buy meat on my mission today (the boucherie was closed after I'd been to the supermarket – it's common to close for an hour or two over lunch) so I guess we're doing vegetarian, or something with salami, for dinner. Feeling quite overwhelmed at even that prospect... and curious about the lebanese place down the way. I suppose Luuk could get pizza on the way home... Seems very lazy, but would make it more likely that we'd do a french lesson this evening.

[Or maybe there was something to worry about: only one person seemed to survive the Dalek's attack. And the doctor/companions, but they were not in imminent danger. Yet.]

Had the organised-frenchman's take-aways last night after our shopping trip. I'd stopped by the very-nearby-traiteur on the way back from my walk/wi-fi search, and picked up some of this amazing potato dish, a giant meatball each, and a cheese pastry thing. Just had to heat them up when we got home: voila!

Dinner in the comfort of your living room, ready when you are, requiring only reheating per the instructions of the traiteur. Threw a few green beans on the side so it wasn't entirely naughty. But I'll tell you, it was entirely delicieux! Luuk had picked up a bottle of wine a couple of days ago but only got a corkscrew at the homewares store, so, since we could open it, we thought we'd better have some. Perfect.

Have definitely been enjoying the food here. Mightn't have been near the eiffel tower, or even seen the arc de triumph, but I have definitely been enjoying the food. Mostly the bread, actually.

First night in new house – first time with an oven since we've got here... roast veg and baked chicken. Day-old baguette = cheesy garlic bread.

3 fromage ravioli with chicken, spinach and garlicky-good sausages, in a crème fraiche sauce.

Also enjoying our light and airy apartment.

It's gorgeous when the sun is shining in. Had to stay in most of the day on Monday cause the phone guys were coming, but Louis enjoyed lunch on the veranda, in the sun.

[Oh the poor doctor, all alone again. But someone, or quite a few people, will think of him every time they look up at the sky.]

Louis is stirring and Friends is on next. Might to a quick tidy-up before that.

Will try to get this up online soon.

PS. 1 year today since the february quake/s. It's nice, and odd, and difficult all at once, being on the other side of the world, where no one else would have even given it a thought today, but I did. A few times. I hope the anniversary passed uneventfully, but internet-less I have no clue what's going on. I suppose if anything major happened it'd be on the french news.

PPS. 2 days later I'm finally getting to post. Have to sit outside the building with the free wi-fi, which is easier when it's not raining. Louis is miraculously asleep in the pushchair, which is entirely going to bungle the routine but on the other hand INTERNET! YAY!

time goes by

Had a lovely Valentines. Dinner turned out delish, if not very restaurant-looking...

So delish, in fact, that I forgot to take a picture until I was half-finished.

And I got this lovely present...

A gorgeous thick glass vase for our new apartment, filled with some of my favourites.

Louis ate his dessert happily while we had our dinner. No candlelight or romantic music, and these orange plastic chairs aren't fabulous for ambiance, but at least there was no screaming baby or food-throwing.

After a french lesson, we watched an episode of Castle, with the french subtitles on (it all helps, right?) and then had a lovely early-ish night.

Keep thinking about how we celebrated last valentines. Mum and Dad babysat Louis. Luuk and I went to Simo's - this gorgeous moroccan restaurant in Christchurch - in the Grand Chancellor hotel. The food was incredible, and there was a belly-dancer! I wore my ridiculously high-heeled polka-dot shoes (why do i remember that?) and tottered through the atrium of that hotel one last time.

8 days later it was closed, the building crumbling after several significant earthquakes.

So, I'm experiencing a strange sense of time passing. It's nearly a year since those quakes, and back home in Christchurch it's the topic on everyone's minds, and all over the media. Here, on the other side of the world, it's easier not to think about it. But it's there, in the back of our minds. I notice cracks in walls in a way I imagine civil engineers usually would. I'm on alert every time a building vibrates. And I hate to think what would happen if there was a quake here, because they'd be totally unprepared. These buildings probably aren't required to meet much of a code for earthquake safety. And we're 4 floors up.

So I really try not to think about it. In part because I don't really need to. It's highly, highly, unlikely. But it's hard to believe in safety.

Packing up

I skipped a few weeks of madness, because of the madness of packing up, but I thought I might update now... now that I've had nearly a whole day of leisure - chatting, reading, a french lesson, a movie, a nap... it's been lovely.

The whole moving-to-france plan has been in the pipe-line for a while but we had no specifics as to when until just before Christmas. We only got flight dates sorted just before new years, and were still under the impression we had to do our own packing, so spent most of that week sorting and packing... then found out that, for insurance purposes, the movers have to pack the stuff. Sweet, right? Except it was half-done already. Anyway... in the midst of all this was another wolloping earthquake, christmas, new years, and a visit from Luuk's parents. Little Louis is coping remarkably well with his constantly fluctuating routine!

Once upon a time when we still had furniture (above), before we sold/gave away/stored all our possessions...

The furniture was gone, boxes everywhere, but the wee man got on with his milestones, picking up a pen and starting drawing! On paper! I'm so proud. Writer or artist? Both? Either. Usually pens are used as drum-sticks or lolly-pops...

Who needs furniture to have a good time, anyway?

Opa and Oma visited for a few days - a few very hot, summery days, in which we endeavored to eat the contents of the freezer, and made significant progress. The home-made ice blocks were a winner, for sure.

On the last day of their stay we had a garage sale and pawned off a lot of our stuff on friends and total strangers. Made a hefty stash of cash and got rid of about two thirds of the stuff. The rest went to book shops, salvation army and the tip (some of it recycled, some not) on Monday. Noteworthy moment: throwing a perfectly functional Rimu desk, piece by piece, into the pit at the dump... It didn't sell and we didn't want it. What else could we do? Still feel a bit bad about that...

We stayed with Mum and Dad for the last few days in Christchurch, while our house got packed and sent to storage, and we cleaned... ick. Was such a relief to have that behind us.

Last evening in Christchurch, after a delish(!) dinner of Lamb with feta and lemon and rice (Mum went through a Mediterranean phase, that, thank god, she never quite got over. Love it.), we set about the mission of taking some half-decent family photos... Good luck getting everyone smiling and looking at the camera at the same time. Getting Louis to look at the camera isn't so difficult. It's getting everyone else to stop looking at Louis - that's the trick!

And now, we are swanning around the Waikato and surrounding regions. We have 3 mammoth suitcases and a baby backpack. Somewhere in the world, between Christchurch and Paris, is a half-cubic meter of stuff we shipped over. We are semi-homeless, semi-jobless wanderers! Only technically, however, as we've got the apartment we were hoping for, come mid Feb, and there's a temporary apartment booked for us for the first few weeks in Paris. And, of course, Luuk has a job, it's just that he hasn't signed in France cause we're not there yet, and he's resigned here, because though he'll be working for the same company, it's a separate office... anyway, boring technicalities. I quite like the idea of being wanderers, but I suppose it's better this way, what with having a baby about to start walking, and another one cooking (and kicking).

Sometimes escapism is the best option

There are a lot of big things going on right now. I spent much of the day reading a young adults novel. Then I had my hair done and dove deeply into fashion magazines and celebrity gossip. And now I'm watching an episode of The West Wing that I've seen at least twice before.

Am I processing the humongous life-changing events going on? Probably. While I'm sleeping. Or while I'm not sleeping and should be.

So, how does one process big change? Do I write in my journal about moving to Paris with my baby, while I'm pregnant, and speak only a little French. Vraiment, un po.

Well, yes. I do journal, however I mostly write to-do lists. Not about how I feel. When I try to put what I feel into words it sounds like a bunch of cliches - excited, nervous, anxious, sad to say goodbye, happy to be going on an adventure, all that.

My head is full of plans. I have dates and bookings and errands coming out my years. Somehow, despite all that, what kept me up last night was excema and when I did sleep I dreamed about a an earthquake. Yeesh. Maybe I'm not processing Paris at all, just dealing with now. I suppose I'll have plenty of time to process the big move when it's happened.

However, I suspect the first month in Paris will be fill of dates and bookings and errands... essentially the mirror images of all the appointments we're doing now, plus the extras thanks to the famous French love affair with bureaucracy. But I don't mind that. I believe in bureaucracy but explaining why is annoying and irritating so I'll leave that subject here.

Watch this space. I'll let you know how the processing goes, and do some of it right here on my handy-dandy blog.

ps. Grr. Louis, my baby, is still crying over half an hour after the phone rang and woke him up. I tried to calm him down but it's so light outside and will be for another hour. He's in a porta-cot in the study at my parent's house (where we're staying)... not in his own bed, own room, in the dark... Fingers crossed he'll run out of steam soon.

Sometimes escapism is the best option

There are a lot of big things going on right now. I spent much of the day reading a young adults novel. Then I had my hair done and dove deeply into fashion magazines and celebrity gossip. And now I'm watching an episode of The West Wing that I've seen at least twice before.

Am I processing the humongous life-changing events going on? Probably. While I'm sleeping. Or while I'm not sleeping and should be.

So, how does one process big change? Do I write in my journal about moving to Paris with my baby, while I'm pregnant, and speak only a little French. Vraiment, un po.

Well, yes. I do journal, however I mostly write to-do lists. Not about how I feel. When I try to put what I feel into words it sounds like a bunch of cliches - excited, nervous, anxious, sad to say goodbye, happy to be going on an adventure, all that.

My head is full of plans. I have dates and bookings and errands coming out my years. Somehow, despite all that, what kept me up last night was excema and when I did sleep I dreamed about a an earthquake. Yeesh. Maybe I'm not processing Paris at all, just dealing with now. I suppose I'll have plenty of time to process the big move when it's happened.

However, I suspect the first month in Paris will be fill of dates and bookings and errands... essentially the mirror images of all the appointments we're doing now, plus the extras thanks to the famous French love affair with bureaucracy. But I don't mind that. I believe in bureaucracy but explaining why is annoying and irritating so I'll leave that subject here.

Watch this space. I'll let you know how the processing goes, and do some of it right here on my handy-dandy blog.

ps. Grr. Louis, my baby, is still crying over half an hour after the phone rang and woke him up. I tried to calm him down but it's so light outside and will be for another hour. He's in a porta-cot in the study at my parent's house (where we're staying)... not in his own bed, own room, in the dark... Fingers crossed he'll run out of steam soon.

The Eastern Frontier

Went on a bit of adventure (the soft kind where you get coffee and cake, mum's shout) on Saturday... to Sumner. I realised that I haven't been there since January (Celia's bridal shower at "Poseidon" which is now on a tilt and vacant, awaiting rebuild/repair). I realised I haven't been many places at all, in Christchurch, since February. I've been to lots of other places, but not many in my own home town.

We walked along Scarborough after having strong coffee and delish brownie (with pistachios in it!) at a fancy brasserie (which was fancier before Sumner became a lot less accessible/appealing). Lovely walk in the wind. Lovely to see the ocean. Luuk carried Louis in the backpack. Last time we saw the ocean we were at Stinson beach in California. Similar temperature, I suspect.

We were all a bit gobsmacked at this stark evidence of the violence of the earthquakes, and how much the land has actually moved!

On the way there/home we drove under the crumbling cliffs, houses hanging precariously off the edges, or half-gone already in several cases. These shipping containers are stacked along the cliff-side of the road and will (hopefully) protect passers-by in the case of rockfalls.

Certainly puts a twist on lovely afternoon at the beach. I suppose we injected a measly $20 into Sumner's shrunken economy. Why do I feel I need to justify the frivolity of my lovely Saturday afternoon out? There were strange twinges of guilt accompanying me along Ferry Rd, as there often are whenever I am fascinated/amazed by the sights of earthquake damage. I live on the untouched (nearly) side of town and we play tourist, even on the days we carried shovels and wore gumboots, to the damaged areas. Then we go home to our barely-cracked, weather-proof house, with our un-chlorinated water and indoor plumbing. Survivor's guilt someone called it.

But it was a lovely afternoon at the beach. Perhaps the guilt comes because I may have found the excursion even more interesting (enjoyable?) than I would have pre-eq. Anyway, that's all I have to say about that, for now. Bound to come up again. Bloody Earthquakes.