June/Winter...?

here is how things stand on Sunday with the near and dear far from Waikikamukau: the pleased and proud dad mentions first that the newly-weds, Ria ‘n Eliot, are due back (today?) in Brooklyn (hearsay from Tom) having carefully braised and browned themselves on the coast of Costa Rica for three weeks…? Emily soared past Paris a couple of days ago (via Air France) on her way to six weeks of intense research in St. Petersburg for additional dissertation findings. Tom is reviving his tennis skills, doing ‘green’ painting and his clean, vivid music scene.

a second birthday party was created for Wim with his Kiwi cohorts. He had a party on the actual day, the 25th of May, in Northampton with that set of best friends present. Everything was in place for meeting up for Laser Force dueling at the local pool hall/miniature golf/etc. game palace on Saturday afternoon. This event was snowed out! (and rescheduled for Sunday). An inch or two of snow had appeared overnight and stayed on the ground all day Saturday—very unusual. I took Wim up to the park for a slide on his little red plastic toboggan (the decision to bring this to Dunedin seemed pointless/quixotic at the time). Lily was picked up by friends with four-wheel drive and taken to her ‘fear factor’ birthday party. Fortunately, the promised dip in the ocean event was scrubbed from the planned activities…

your blogger must give up apologizing for the word count devoted to weather. The variety of storm systems from day to day and hour to hour is a constant source of conversation and functions well as a mood elevator. We went from near freezing Saturday to a balmy feeling 48 degrees on Sunday accompanied by very high winds. This Monday dawned with lovely pink high clouds which thickened to obscure the rising of the sun a half hour later (8:36). When Tessa arrived home from driving Wim and Lily to school, a snow shower started—huge wet flakes. She decided to take her time sheets down to the University while the roads were still passable. Now, fifteen minutes later, the sun is flooding our family room. The shortest day of the year is just past; some cherry trees, confused by a very temperate May have begun to bloom; spring does not really come until August or September but your basic landscape is green.

This is the last week of school before a two-week vacation. Tessa starts rehearsing tonight with the Sinfonia for performances of Swan Lake taking place at the end of the week. A very enthusiastic Lily and I will attend. In the first week of vacation, Tess will play in the Christchurch Symphony, then again in the week after that when we will all traipse along as tourists!

It is now evening, still Monday. Wim has put himself to bed and is reading Stephen King. Lily is fiddling around in her room and hopefully will be lured downstairs by a fire in the living room fireplace. After several sunshiny teases earlier in the day, the sporadic snow showers won out. It looks like it will get icy/slippery later. Wim’s mini-ball (basketball) league game was cancelled at the Edgar Centre. Tess waited for a cancellation of her rehearsal but she finally had to go out (but came home early. Apparently when the taxis drivers decide that they can no longer safely make trips into the hills, it is time to end the rehearsal...)

My day has been slow paced. A trip down the hill for the daily newspaper at noon (why don’t we subscribe and save 25 cents a day?), several bouts of dish-washing (the guys were going to come fix the rotted floor and leaky tap last week so that the new dish washer could be re-installed but a student with a suddenly permeable roof, in University housing, was considered an emergency and took precedence…). The trade-off for having radiators and central heating (which we do) is that the coal/wood furnace in the basement/garage must be fed every ¾’s of an hour or so once it gets going in the morning. If one fits in wo or three hours or practicing plus one hour of coaching, it is suddenly 7:45 PM. [tending the furnace needs its own paragraph of entry...]

If you think like a New Yorker, the Dunedin Town Hall is a bit like Town Hall (a rent-able venue with a history of concerts, town meetings and lectures). It seats 2,800 and is used for the University graduation ceremonies that take place four times a year. (It also houses a magnificent pipe organ named Norma.) We were there in the Town Hall last Wednesday for a visit of the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra. This entity is government supported and lives in Wellington, the capitol of NZ.

The soloist was a wonderful young French cellist named Gautier Capuçon who played the Walton Cello Concerto. He gave a committed, impassioned performance on a very high level. (I accompanied three young students in a masterclass that he led the night before.) He is a fine musician--I would recommend hearing him for yourself if you ever have the opportunity. Tessa and I had dinner with the concertmaster of the NZSO and his partner (a woman) after the concert. That was quite a fun and fulfilling evening--plus, a good contact was made...(I was reminded of a Prairie Home Companion/Garrison Keillor joke when the hostess asked a day later if Vesa, who is Finnish, had a good time. I had thought that Vesa was a bit shy but having a good time, the hostess thought him very quiet. Anyway, Garrison describes quiet people (Norwegian bachelor farmers for instance) as coming in two versions: the introvert is one who looks at his shoes while he is talking to you. The extroverted counterpart while talking to you looks at your shoes.)

[the men’s rooms of the Town Hall have a stainless steel wall along one wall—am I imaging this or is this rather European (is pissoir a word?)—visiting this room during intermission a Mr Bean moment was visited upon me…I stepped up onto the ornate, wrought aluminum tread/step and unzipped to let nature take its course and realized that four feet away to my left was some young buck letting loose from the floor, essentially an extra step back. All I could think of (besides don’t talk, don’t snicker) was something to do with the trajectories one traces in snow as a three year old…]