The Celestial Sea
Page 19
I am teased on and off about my ‘Special Man Friend’, the lively banter keeping us on our toes——“Ooh——sending you secret messages too!” my tolerant husband teases. Innocent jokes abound. “Well, perhaps I have a short time to live, or something,” I reply with a broad grin. I’m sure he wouldn’t be quite so flippant if he realized the full extent of our growing attachment.
P.m. Adrian: All’s well on The Mountain. Spent the last couple of hours making a gate to keep said Hound on deck. Thanks for letting me stay——it’s been grand.
Mouse: Beautiful afternoon——blue skies, confidence up, proud Mother Duck following Ducklings across perfect, powder snow in beautiful curves. Wish you were here, My Love. Hope you have had a good day with dog/car/school duties? More surprising conversations to tell you about. Sleep well and long, My friend. I’ll be in your arms.
P.s: the boys have decided to ski for part of tomorrow, so we will be back at 6ish. Dog can stay in car for 3 hours. You are a perfect Angel to organize it all. Many thanks. I have been a bad Angel——eating chocolate. Sugar rush coupled with massive Rainbow hit under stunning skies——intoxicating to say the least! I would make a fortune if I could bottle it. What are you doing to me? X
Adrian: Tucked up in bed. Tired out. Been at Andy and Lisa’s talking trolleys. You are such a woman. I’m loving being here——feeling you all over the house. I am looking forward to gardening and making and land things with you. I get such a hit from it. Nice to hear of mountain skiing experience. Lots of love, Swallow.
Sunday 19th August 2006
A.m Mouse: Good morning, My Lovely Swallow, how perfect that sounds. Can I fly and sail with you? I never thought I would meet my fellow Ocean Traveller this side of Paradise. How blessed are we? I am falling into the champagne glass, wheel alignments and all. Huge splash! Thank-you for your wonderful words. Can’t wait to feel your arms around me; your gentle lips brushing mine. Travel safe and come home to me soon, your Thumbelina.
Adrian: My lovely Friend——high on the slopes. Thanks for the messages; little touches of hope. I’m nearly in Auckland. All’s well. Dog behind new gate——hope she doesn’t chew her way out——it’s possible. Oh well, Cordelia will be there by now. Have a safe journey.
We find the slopes busy but not crowded and are surprised by the number of Japanese skiers. We spend all morning on the slopes; tucking into pot noodles in the cabin café at lunchtime. We are having fun. At last, a sport we all enjoy. The hours pass quickly and by four p.m. we are back on the road. My private texts are joked about on the way home; references by myself as being; “the luckiest lady——two gorgeous men in my life——what have I done to deserve this? A rare treat for a tired housewife!” Tolerance and camaraderie abounding, The Laird and his heirs are happy as Larry now that their thirst for action is satisfied. Any warning signals his wife lets slip appear inconsequential to The Laird.
We travel back in high spirits. The scenery of the Tongariro Park is spread before us like an enticing calendar photo; miles and miles of unbroken splendour. The empty expanse shouts: ‘lonely freedom’ as we drive the Desert Road with its wild moorland and dramatic backdrop of Mount Ruapehu. Shades of earthy brown, of sandy toned grass and dense brush meet our hushed entourage. The mountains are capped in snow; silence and unspoilt majesty surround us on all sides. Armies of soulless pine trees line the route. The solitude is tangible. We love this drive. ‘Lord of the Rings Mount Doom’ was filmed here. How different from the built-up European ski slopes where the pine trees provide some protection. The forbidding black rock of Mount Ruapehu offers no security, stripping naked our fragile humanity.
Sunday 20th August 2006
A.m. Mouse: Good morning, My Green-Fingered Friend. Sorry not to say goodnight. Monty has discovered the bunnies, so we have been mustering & caging. Well, today is our 18th wedding anniversary——definitely time for some new parts and alignments. Please take our questions to church, as I will. Guidance and clarity needed on how to sail our rare and precious Boat. Have a lovely day. I shall be thinking of you. Your Lady X
I roast a joint of lamb for lunch today. We recently found an organic butcher on an industrial estate, {between a plumber’s showroom and a fire-extinguisher outfit}. The meat is excellent and the young couple with their new business need supporting, despite the drive across town. They sensibly advertised through the school, offering various discounts. I enjoy working in my cabin kitchen and bless the generous stove we bought when we first arrived. Adding the garlic and rosemary to the meat I gaze out of the windows; the astounding views never cease to amaze.
Tiny, yellow-headed birds share the chicken’s corn on the grass outside the back door. I watch them as I work; their feathers are vibrant. We often see them flitting along the drive. Their colouring matches the flowering gorse; of which we have a whole mountainside. Gorse is a voracious grower in the Southern Hemisphere. In our attempts to curtail its domination we continue clearing by hand, reluctant to use poison. However, I can already see re-growth and realize the neighbouring farmer was right when he said: “Oh, you’ll never get this amount of gorse under control like that. We have a neighbourhood chemical drop by helicopter next month for a cost of three thousand dollars each. I strongly advise you to join in.”
Hmm——apart from the massive cost we decide to continue with our organic approach, trying to ignore the sound of the popping seeds bursting in the afternoon sun. Kiwis have a bee in their bonnet over ‘noxious weeds’——with just reason. Europeans underestimated the growing potential of the climate, introducing various offending species over the years. Gorse was originally planted as hedging.
P.m. Adrian: Hi Mouse. Can our Go-Getter have a guitar lesson tomorrow? Should be finished at 4ish. Also, I’m working at Cordelia’s after school and wondered if you could bring a crowbar? Should be some around. Can we fit in a meeting for The Workshop? I’d like to. Be good to talk with you if possible. Love A
Mouse: Hello, My Friend——yes, he can have a lesson tomorrow. I will bring crowbars. I’m painting at Sarah’s from 9 a.m. Can finish whenever. We need to discuss Workshop Agenda, as well as Forest natter, {unless it’s a Red Flag day?} Is there time to escape to your place before 3p.m? Love M X
Adrian: Fast asleep, My Sweet——knackered. Could meet for lunch at Big J’s tomorrow.
Monday 21st August 2006
I like having the house to myself in the early morning. I catch the dwindling embers in the wood-burning stove and rekindle the fire before the sun rises. The tiny glow dances back to life; a leap of joy at being given another chance. The animals are silent companions who feel comfortable with the predictable routine. They settle beside me. I relish this sanctuary; life is so busy most of the time. I suppose I am a quiet person at heart.
A.m. Adrian: My weariness was last night. Firing on all four this morn. Ggrruff! You’d better look out! Meet 11.30-1.00? Possible? Crowbars can come then. Yum Yum. I have food here.
Mouse: 11.30 your place? Should I wear my chastity belt? Will we have time to work, let alone eat? Mmm——looking forward to being quiet with you later. Nibble nibble, yum yum. Naughty Mouse heading your way. X
Adrian: May you bask in the happiness of Heaven.
Mouse: May you bask too, My Lovely Friend.
We have lunch, we play——and we catch-up on the weekend’s antics and light-hearted conversations. Adrian voices concern over our integrity: “Where is The Laird in all this?” We discuss until we feel clear. Less ardour perhaps, he finds me so responsive, his instant, poetic reply surprising him. He holds me in a protective mantle; a homecoming I recognize. Silent succour and sweet time warp, you tease us with the truth. “Are you alright?” He asks so gently, meeting me in a way I have never been met before. Our touch is light and exquisite; soft lips and sweet breath seek Angel dew in a hushed tremor. Time escapes our notice——gifted minutes from Heaven.
MAGNETS AND CHEMISTRY
Instant recognition,
Powerful chemistry,
Stronger each day.
Gift or challenge?
Resist or submit?
Heart bursting check in each footstep,
Inch by exquisite inch,
The magnets inevitable command.
P.m. Mouse: Shopping everywhere, hungry children, demanding pets, house in a tip. Mother calm despite the storm. Wish we could spend more than a couple of hours together. Only time for catch-ups and snuggles——X——I am a wiz with a timetable——so, now you have shown me yours and I have shown you mine, I can work on ours and see how we can fit everything in! Tamer Rainbows might make it easier.
I will try to be a Mellow Lover——X
Adrian: Hey, My Lovely Lady Friend. Here I am making a new leafy seat for the trolley. Yay. Looking okay. Nice to see you today. Hope order is re-established? Nice guitar lesson; well, lots of enthusiasm and boisterous singing from our Go-Getter. Lots of love to you. Finding our way with it all.
Mouse: Dearest Adrian, thanks for message. Leafy seat sounds fab. House even more chaotic as I have just had a lovely chat with J. J. in England. So nice to be able to talk about everything. Better away——Laird about to return and demanding hot bath. Sleep well. There will be a Mouse in your bed——quiet and undemanding. Special love and nibbles——M.
The cold consumes us. The Mountain is raw tonight. Hot water bottles and woolly hats are necessary. The animals snuggle into the fireside furniture while Rinky’s landing bedroom retains the heat from the wood-burning stove. The rest of us freeze. My thoughts are with Adrian. Can we control our passion? Does the clandestine nature of our friendship intensify our feelings? We have unleashed a powerful force and I am not sure we can control its demands. Before sleep claims me I view the various questions with a quiet acceptance. A brilliant and beautiful light is keeping me centred and sure. I cannot turn away.
Tuesday 22nd August 2006
A.m. Adrian: Such nice messages. How is J.J? I made a prototype leaf seat. Looks fantastic. Andy interested. Paid him for using his workshop. Yay——Now I really need to sell some. I’m doing more there after school today. Had a visitor last night; guy who began priest training. Interesting. So——paint girl. Sweet thoughts for you still. Love A.
DEEP MELLOW
Deep mellow,
Riding in the face of potential storm.
Still sanctuary
Laying calm and smooth in our inner beings.
The days and weeks tick by,
Pattern and rhythm emerging.
Rounded corners and billowing comfort,
We can arrive at this.
Adrian: ‘Billowing comfort’——Mmm——I’ll have some of that please. My seat needs rounded corners, so nice image. Gloomy patch shot through with sunlight by the Go-Getter and seat. Doubt cowed in the warmth of achievement. One of those damp dreams last night——auto-safe mode——Angels——hmm. New day break, lovely. Warm thoughts.
Mouse: Who has the silver-tipped quill now? Beautiful words. Happy seat finishing. I need to kiss you in Deep Mellow. X
We are supporting Cedric in his first hockey match today. I’m pleased he has taken up his favourite sport, having flatly refused to participate when we first arrived in the country. His team mates are surprised by his skill. They win comfortably and his big grin is worth the windy, drizzly spectating. The town’s Hockey Centre is situated in the middle of the heavy industry beside the port. A couple of giant salt mountains reach for the sky behind the sports ground while opposite the astro-turf pitches I can see the towers of a national agricultural feeds company. More driving. The car tyres are wearing thin with alarming speed.
P.m. Mouse: May The Angels surround you as you sleep, My Lovely Man. I think the seat is a winner; top class creativity. Hope the passion isn’t too confusing in the midst of Deep Mellow? Multi-tasking female thing——maybe unfair on you——just let me know. Very yummy, nonetheless. Lovely to be with you earlier——mmm. Hockey good. Laird in a shocking, tired grump. Can’t send yet.
Can we contain the passion? Our brief, lunchtime meeting tells me we might find it impossible. Each time we come together the veils lift; clarity encountered within tenderness and desire. I decide to trust in the hand that guides. Are we led or do we have choice? I have always sensed the paths to be laid out before us but intuitively feel our choice determines which one we tread. Dear Angels, help us in our choice of path. Goodnight.
Wednesday 23rd August 2006
A.m. Mouse: Good morning Sir. Hope you slept well? Give me a buzz; I need to discuss various things for today.
The phone rings at eight o’clock. Adrian and I chat about The Workshop Day ahead. I love speaking with him; the intimacy is immediate and deeply comforting. I am experiencing true nurture for the first time in my life with a tangible promise of more. “Lovely kiss yesterday”, he says. “Mmm——tell me how you are, My Love?” I complete the school run and town errands quickly, stopping at the Dairy, {village shop}, for some Workshop supplies. I pass Adrian on the road. He must have had an urgent school errand. I send him a brief message.
Mouse: Deep mellow, billowing comfort, soft passion whispers. Just passed you. Come home to me soon. X
This week’s Workshop is fun. The families are delighted to have the three of us back together. Cordelia teaches the children to burn designs onto wood, using the rays of the sun through a magnifying glass. Have you ever tried? How thrilling to watch the directed heat create a burnt trail, and what an important lesson in the potential danger of glass outside, especially in this sunny climate. Adrian helps the children cut small disks from a fallen pine branch, keeping the bark on every piece. We burn different letters of the alphabet onto each disk. The completed letters look good and I place them in a basket. This pyrography exercise would be even more successful in the summer, although the winter sun works well enough.
The table Adrian and I found at the auction room is perfectly situated under the giant pines. We gather around it before the end of the session. “Cordelia, Adrian and I will choose letters from the basket and see if a suitable name appears for this paddock,” I announce. “We’ll have chosen something by next week.” The idea is met with approval; “that’s a great idea,” agrees Krista; “the ‘Bottom Paddock’ deserves something magical.”
We spend a funny time together when the families have left. We play with the letters and come up with a number of ludicrous ideas: ‘Blombury Dell’, ‘Finkle Twip’, and ‘Snarly Gate’. Eventually a pleasing name emerges. “This area of The Mountain shall be called the ‘Twealm Realm’——perfect. We could make a wooden plaque bearing the sun-etched title and attach it to one of the trees.”
Cordelia drives away, leaving Adrian and me alone. We fold the heavy lunchtime trestles and store them on the deck. We pause to admire the staggering view, enjoying the peace after such a busy time. Adrian holds me close; he is warm and reassuring. Neither of us wants the day to end. We link hands through the open car window as he reverses in the drive, keeping the magic for as long as possible.
P.m. Adrian: My soft-kissed Mistress of the Mount——My Velvet Lady.
Mouse: Mmm——‘The Leafy Glade beckons the Prince and his Lady’——I shall be in your arms tonight, Good Sir——velvety and soft against your chest. Sweetest blessings as we slumber——X.
Indeed I shall. My new Friend is wonderful and I don’t want to miss one ounce of our potential; day or night.
Thursday 24th August 2006
A.m. Mouse: Mmm——X——morning—— X
Adrian: Oh Lady of the Leafy Glade——could you please bring me a spade? No, a joke. I need saws, two of them in fact. And a donger——heavy axe thing. In fact both of them. Thanks for lovely message. Hope you are sweet and smiling. A nice day yesterday.
Mouse: Certainly, Good Sir——donger and saws it is! X
What fun we are having. Every day invites further communication and shared adventure. I am deliriously happy. We shall see each other at lunchtime.
Midday, Mouse: Hello
there my fellow Sailor; purveyor of beautiful messages and wondrous trolley seats. How goes the work? I expect you are in the garden, or are you at Cordelia’s? I’m covered in paint, thinking of you. Just sending a kiss. X
* * * * * * *
Later, Adrian: Hi Mouse, just leaving for Cordelia’s. Do you have any dust-masks? Where are you, My Sweet? See you in 10?
Mouse: At Cordelia’s already. Yes, I have a dust-mask, seeing as I am the provider of all life’s needs.
Adrian: Here I come, wait.
Cordelia and her husband own several houses; they run a small property business in the North Island and Cordelia and the children are moving into the latest acquisition. This area is booming with over one hundred new residents a day. Adrian and I have been employed as decorators to transform the main living area of the family’s new home. The 1980’s makeshift partition, psuedo mouldings and twirly light fittings have to go. First up; a serious sanding and filling job to create a light-filled, modern family room. The downstairs area will become a separate space for student rentals.
The house lies at the bottom of our road and opposite the local shops. A charming Indian family run the Dairy, {Kiwi name for a village shop}; while a Chinese couple speaking little English manage the fast-food outlet. Their small daughters often take the orders and deal with the money transactions. New Zealanders use a debit card called an ‘Efpos’ card. The equivalent of our British ‘Switch’ card, it is accepted everywhere. Shopkeepers are reluctant to accept cheques. Cash was the only acceptable form of payment when I collected a second-hand fridge from a local neighbourhood recently. I presume they have trouble with bouncing cheques.
I meet Adrian for an hour’s decorating work this afternoon where we spend most of the time wrapped up together. We find it difficult to keep our hands on the walls and not on each other while the filler sets and the clock ticks away. “I feel the need for another poetry session, My Love”, he calls after me as I head for the door.