the "B" word

The summer I turned twelve years-old, I distinctly remember my poor mother looking over at her whining pre-teen of a daughter mumbling in our mini-van's passenger seat and strictly forbidding me from using the "B" word even once more for the rest of the season. No, I wasn't cursing at her in tween fashion - I was BORED - and none too pleased about it. Then - life happened. High school turned into hours of late night musical rehearsals and early morning seminary classes. College just meant later nights of paper writing and earlier mornings of assisting intoxicated residents who were locked out of their dorm rooms. Entering the real adult world of full time teaching was...well.... exhausting...and you get the picture. By the final day of school last June I was pretty sure I would never feel well rested EVER again.

And then we moved to New Zealand - and our biggest task at the moment is keeping that big B at bay. Once the jet lag passed and the constant fear of getting on the wrong bus or not remembering to look the correct direction for oncoming traffic subsided, Adam and I both realized that we have some time on our hands. Now don't be overly concerned (or start throwing things at your computer screen hoping I'll feel the pain through the ethernet cord) - we're becoming quite creative in our designs to combat the evils of idle hands. Our days still start early with either a jog or a trip to the gym. Once the shower and our breakfast bowls are empty the laptops get powered up and the online job search battle ensues. We seek and call, badger and beg our way through our daily contact lists in search of meaningful employment. Once we're successfully sure that we've covered what we can for that day's postings the fun begins and an adventure ensues.

For example, a couple of days ago Adam looked up the Karori Wildlife Reserve (recently re-branded as Zealandia!)which is a large non-profit bird sanctuary nestled into a nearby Wellington suburb. Having been to dinner at an acquaintance's house in Karori the night before, we knew just which bus to catch out. Our true confession is that while we were mildly interested in the reserve, our real motivation for getting out to the park was to pick up an Entertainment book. Yep - you know those fundraising coupon books that your soccer team or PTA sells at the beginning of the school year? They're alive and well in Wellington and chock full of two for one deals at great restaurants, tourist attractions, and cultural events. Adam and I figure that we should break even within our first two meals out. Anyway - once we picked up the Entertainment book we decided to pinch our pennies and turn around with a promise to ourselves that we would come back and explore Zealandia! (sounds more like a theme park than a conservation effort if you ask me) on a nighttime tour when you have an actual chance of observing a nocturnal Kiwi bird in the wild.

The area around the park is quite forested and mountainous- so instead of heading right back to the bus stop we detoured to a side trail that seemed to take us up into the hills towards a wind turbine and probable look-out vantage point. Little did we know that fate had arranged for a private tour guide through the trees. Meet Hettie.



Hettie met us at the trail head and led us through kilometers of streams and switchbacks as we made our way up the mountain. I assure you that while we adored Hettie's company we were far more concerned that she was straying from her home. Unfortunately, our many attempts to send her home, ignore and command her to go back were about as productive as when we tell our own little Zoe to do anything. Hettie is a people dog and she decided that we were her people.



Truth be told - the way Hettie bounded through the woods it seemed as if she might run regularly across the trail we were on; perhaps a frequent companion to wayward travelers. The walk was awesome, but an hour and a half later when we were back down at the trail head and on our way to the bus stop, Hettie showed no signs of leaving us to our own devices. Thankfully, a guardian angel in the form of a reserve administration employee drove by and asked us if the dog walking next to us in the middle of the road was ours. When we said no, he asked us if we had time to walk her back to the office. Hettie happily bounded through the doors to make new friends with some cubicle rats who were somewhat less than enthused by the wet and muddy paws that were quickly finding their way to the office furniture. I called and left a message with the number on Hettie's collar informing her owner of where she was. Apparently Hettie had been wandering in the park most of the day and the administration was ready to get a hold of her until her owner could come and claim her. It was great fun to have a four-legged friend for the afternoon...but a good reminder to us of how lucky we are to have left our own baby in the wonderful care of NommiAnn and Papa Kay. As beautiful as things are here, and as much as we miss our walking space heater, we are sure Zoe's having so much more fun making trips to Ponca State park and getting puppy pedicures at the doggie spa than she would be in quarantine. Grandfolks: you are amazing!

Feeling much more relaxed with our doggy escort in good hands and off of the road, Adam and I set out on a long walk towards town. As we made our way towards civilization, we measured the extent of our hunger by how carefully we were considering munching the berries from trees and leaves from ferns. We stopped instead at hole in the wall little fast food joint for our first Kiwi Fish n' Chips experience.







While the pictures tell the story best, I'll just follow up with an assurance that after our meal it was decided that, despite having gone for a good run in the morning, we would double up with a trip to the gym that evening to clear our arteries.

Oh - and the postlude to the Hettie story is wonderfully representative of the kind of politeness we've encountered nearly everywhere here. While Hettie's owner picked her up from the reserve and had no contact with either Adam or I, she traced back the call I had made from my cell phone later that night just to thank us for making sure Hettie was safe. Apparently an electricity meter reader had come to Hettie's home and left the gate open enough for an adventurous puppy to get out and explore the local wilderness. Apparently even four legged friends fight their own battles with the big B.