Angels for to me are sending;
Always with me, they are ever loving, sharing——
Blessings on the meal.
This evening’s conversation is sparky and fast-paced. The Laird is enthused, challenging the young to think beyond themselves. Time and again I see improvements in our family life when we dilute ourselves. The inclusion of others works so well. As I stack a fresh pile of logs beside the wood-burning stove I wonder how I can make the present, personal dilution work out in the long run. Thinking of my Special Friend, his message arrives right on cue.
P.m. Adrian: My Darling, how I long for you beside me; for you pressed against me. The completeness that we have in our togetherness——the deep, sea green blue of our connection; the ocean depths. Oh, humility stay close——gratitude be here——honour reside. Music needs to be played; lengthy whole days of play and conversation and sensuality. Intimate, then embracing——family spreading our harvest gladly, generously. I’d like to see you tomorrow. XXX
Mouse: My Love, true companion of my heart and soul. I was just feeling a strong need for you; re-visiting your earlier message and finding your new words as perfect balm. I am lying across your chest, kissing you gently. My toes are seeking yours. We are whispering in each other’s ears——“mustn’t wake The Small One”—— I love you. I can phone you first thing tomorrow, to organize our day. I need to see you but will have the Kinder in tow. Laird is out early. Text me when you wake and I will ring. Blessings. X
Friday 20th October 2006
A.m. Adrian: Is she really there? He reaches out with his electronic finger, the sleep so deep he is almost disorientated. He needs to clear up, and set up healthy rhythms once more——greens——planning——no chips——slow and steady. He chooses to connect——because he is effective——and worth it——a strong and steady Lover——stable and healthy. He loves her and wants to be ‘The good man’. Clear and true——integrity. He has a son to love, a community he belongs in and a family who needs him.
Mouse: Morning rhythms resume. Collecting firewood in the heavy drizzle——the comforting sound of water plinking into the water-tank. Blessed, peaceful slumber from a held family. I light the fire; dog and cat basking in the familiarity. My Love; I hold you in the palm of my hand and in my heart. Your message greeted me as I awoke from a depth of sensuality with you this early morn. I am left still and light of breath in the balm of our togetherness——X
Adrian: Good morning. How about some Supergreens for Big J’s birthday present? I’ll make her up a brew each morning when I make mine. I LOVE YOU. Glorious Woman. X
Mouse: Good morning, My Darling. Laird not leaving till 7.50a.m. Can I phone then, or will you be off? Supergreens a good idea for Big J. Have you still got enough for yourself? I’d like to see you up here today. I will have to come to town once, but am otherwise here with the children, packing the car for the camping trip. I leave at 3p.m. Loving you——M——X
Adrian: Sounds good. I have a trip to town after my meeting, so I’ll come up for lunch. Is The Laird okay with me house-sitting?
* * * * * * *
Mid-morning, Mouse: Hi Darling. Hope meeting was good? Rinky and I are driving to Waikite Bay garage to complete the car’s test. We’ll have to hang around for an hour. We should be home by 12.30ish. Loving you—X
P.s Laird appears to be okay with you house-sitting.
Adrian: Where are you? Heavy, but amazing meeting. I directed a resolution conflict in the staff room! Catch-up here instead of The Mountain?
Mouse: Hi Darling. We are at the new playground next to the garage. No car for the next hour. Can you come and see me? ——X
We sit together at the play park beside the garage. The new seating has been defaced by ugly graffiti, which ruins the quality of the solid wood——such a shame. The sun is out and Rinky rushes about on all the new play equipment. The Council has been clever in creating this recreation area. The planting is varied and carefully maintained. A skate area entices the younger generation; many are Maori youngsters from the local residential area. Fish and Pukeko birds adorn the low walls in bright blues and exotic red tile mosaics. The Minx is never happy on her own for long, especially if someone as fun as Adrian is within sight. Waving sticks the two of them run along the railings making wonderful music as they go; the different heights of the bars produce a satisfying melody. After fifteen minutes Adrian rejoins me at the table. Rinky is tackling the climbing frame unaided and is happy to share our exciting companion.
A young woman walks by, stopping to chat. We listen as she speaks about the help and support given by the local church behind the park; she is mentally unwell. Next up, a man with a young family arrives at the playground. He and Adrian talk together. He is a teacher, working in the hall attached to the church, leading a community youth programme. We bring up the subject of the horrible graffiti. Adrian is interested in his approach; they think they may have met somewhere before. My enthusiastic Friend talks about making music with young people; introducing something constructive into their lives. Inspired by the railing music of a few minutes ago he talks about a group he met recently; percussionists.
With linked hands under the table we finish our conversations and head over to the garage. The lady mechanic with the twinkly eyes and pierced tongue is ready with our car. She and her work colleague know everyone in this neighbourhood. They laugh and wink as they see us hug each other goodbye. Is it so obvious that we are Lovers? Perhaps it’s written all over our joy-filled faces.
P.m. Mouse: Love you——you gorgeous man, you. On my way for our weekend at last. Picking up The Laird from school en route. Usual stress of time-keeping——aggrr. Thank-you for being so kind in agreeing to care, yet again, for the Clan’s Castle and Homestead. I love knowing you are there, keeping the home fires burning and tending the livestock. Sorry the tools and garden are in such a mess. The Lady of the Castle is rather preoccupied at the moment! Dog has not had her supper. I hope she behaves. Blessings for Big J’s party. Sorry I can’t be there. I shall be with you in Spirit. Love you.X
The smell of sulphur as we approach ‘bubbling Rotorua’ is powerful; always provoking flatulent accusations until we realize the town is to blame, not the family! We join Marie and Louis and friends at Lake Tarawera, on the edge of Rotorua; {‘bubbling’ because of the geysers and mud pools of the region}.
Mount Tarewera is a sacred place for Maori Iwi: Ngati Rangitihi. High-ranking, tribal members are buried in sacred sites on the mountain. During the 1800’s the beautiful pink and white ‘Terraces’ at neighbouring Lake Rotomahana were considered one of the wonders of the world. A prized treasure of this remarkable land, they were New Zealand’s most important tourist attraction——until June the 10th 1886 when Mount Tarewera exploded. The famous Terraces were lost forever, along with the destruction of surrounding villages and landscape. One hundred and fifty people lost their lives. A few days before the volcanic eruption a phantom canoe was seen on Lake Tarewera by both Maori and Pakeha. The great ‘Tohunga’, {priest}, Tuhoto was asked for his advice. He announced: “It is an omen that the region will be overwhelmed.” He believed the local people had violated the sacred mountain. The ‘tapu’, {sacred}, customs and respect had been ignored.
We drive through kilometres of pine forest along never-ending dirt tracks used by the logging trucks. Eventually we reach the water’s edge and the D.O.C camping site, {Department of Conservation. The Kiwi equivalent of the National Trust}. An echoey hush accompanies the handful of families as we choose locations to pitch tents and cook the obligatory sausages for hungry children. Bikes are unloaded from the back of over-stuffed vehicles and a contented peace falls on the evening’s proceedings. As always, The Laird is keen for some sport. His desire for action is given top priority. He heads for the water with his kayak, hopeful to catch fish for breakfast. Providing for the Castle Inmates and guests gives him enormous satisfaction.
I have to say that our reluctant family is never enthusiast
ic to participate; I expect in reaction to their father’s belligerent insistence that they ‘jump in and enjoy’. They usually have fun in the end, but the constant persuasion is beginning to colour our appreciation as a family. Sad, but true. We present a tricky combination of characters; most of us have leadership inclinations. Anyway, we are here. One reluctant son has been left behind with a friend; another rebels in the car and refuses to disembark; the Minx is backing up her brother and one mother wishes she were with Lord Swallow, preparing for Big J’s party in the newly made-over garden, eating hummus. Oh, well, The Bog-Brush will enjoy it instead of her mistress.
P.m. Mouse: Incredible, star-spangled sky as we make beds and finish adult supper. So beautifully still. Echoing voices of fellow campers through the trees. Wish I could take your hand and walk to the water’s edge——in fact, I’ll take you both there now, My Darling and Little One. Hope you are well? Special love and long, long kisses. Your Lady in thick jumpers——X
Saturday 21st October 2006
A.m. Adrian: The hens grumble and cackle like a bunch of old women. The Bog-Brush, concerned, steps onto the landing to monitor the farm activities. Satisfied that nothing is amiss, she returns——sits by Master’s bed——then jumps up. A low growl comes from under the covers——a ghost? The Lady in Black sits up under the duvet.
The Master breathes deeply through his nose; the air is fresh and crisp. His eyes feel heavy, his movements slow. Lazy morning——rambling thoughts——flanked by two ladies in coats——X
Mouse: Am dozing——a rare state in which to find myself. Resounding and astounding dawn chorus woke me earlier; hooting, tooting, croaking, calling, whistling——orchestra from Heaven. Am left alone in a small tent——Laird off for more kayaking and fishing.
I am in your gentle being, both of us sleepy and content. I feel your caressing hand on my waist, our bodies calmly greeting each other——the Rhythmic Dance beginning again. I am loving you, My Darling——X
Adrian: He realizes that her words thrill him. The alert signal of his phone is like a drug that sets his heart thudding——his loins quickening. He notes his response and wonders——is this lust? Is this indulgence? He misses her. He longs for her body against him——limbs around him——gentle breath and lips on his——too much? Is this too much? Too good? Can he live without her? Yes, of course——but a playmate she is also——a word friend too——a co-creator——an inspirer——an——
Mouse: My Darling, the intensity is all-consuming, I know. Too much? I hope not. The situation makes our feelings particularly acute. When we can spend proper time together things will feel more balanced. An intoxicating drug it surely is. Let’s pray for this gift to be shared instead. We have enough wisdom to avoid self-indulgence, I hope. In the same breath, ‘how blessed are we’ to be experiencing this taste of paradise? I feel we are melting into the ether——
Adrian: Well said, My Luscious Lover. How I would make love with you, given the chance. Thanks.
Mouse: We are making love——every time we think of each other——Mmm. X
P.s I am wearing one of your old shirts——the one you turned out. It makes me feel so close to you. I had the most beautiful sensation when I pulled it over my head just now——a tingling, expectant enveloping.
HIS SHIRT
I wear it when I am away,
Curling into its folds and comfort
I feel him cradling me like a small girl.
The smell of him, manly and evocative
Fills me and I tremble,
Cuffs and buttons, linen and him, yes, him.
I wear it when he is away,
Coveting the completeness; the secrecy.
I feel him missing me like a needy, small boy,
The memory of him, intimate and nearby
Fills me and I sigh,
Sleeves and lapels, collar and him, yes, him.
The day begins with a four-hour stomp through the Bush to the Tarewera Falls. Close, leafy tunnels, extraordinary open areas with snow-like lichens covering the ground, gossamer tendrils hanging from trees and crunchy volcanic stones under our feet entice us further as we climb. It is a long, long walk. We keep our eyes down to avoid stumbling over the ancient, knotted root systems that guide our tentative feet.
We pass huge rocks on both sides of the path as we walk in single file. The boulders have trees growing out of them and appear to own the track. At times the path reveals a glacier-mint blue river below us; the water moving in slow motion over the stones. Ripples and eddies hint at the mysterious underground waterways that eventually reveal themselves; culminating in high falls pouring from a giant rock-face, the submerged torrent finding irresistible freedom at last.
I walk with The Laird; his head is down, an air of heaviness about him. I cannot sense his enjoyment. I feel dissatisfied in his presence; as if something is missing. I sense our lack of connection. We are out of step with each other. I try to find an exciting spark; a trigger of recognized energy but I fail. Perhaps we shared something a long time ago. I find myself wondering if it wasn’t all in my imagination, even then. Perhaps he realizes my heart is elsewhere. But there again, these patterns keep repeating themselves from past years. Hmm——He is fed up with the lack of fish and we don’t have much in common with the third family. The weather is deteriorating too. “The fishing would have been better at the other end of the lake,” he mutters. I would feel so different if Lord Swallow and I were walking this track together.
The children eventually enjoy part of the weekend. Swimming in the cold river beside the tents is their favourite adventure. The huge hike had been rather too long. Our Go-Getter dares to jump off a high bridge into the river with one of the other boys. He is so pleased with himself and his Father is chuffed to bits. Cold sausage sandwiches and crunchy apples make a good lunch, although we are disappointed by the poor quality of the sausage meat, again. The Kiwi’s don’t make decent sausages——well, we haven’t found any yet; even those at the organic butcher are too salty. The German Deli is the only place to offer any sausage worth eating.
P.m. Mouse: Darling, we are heading back tonight instead of tomorrow. The weather is breaking and the fishing is not good enough for The Laird’s requirements. We are all tired and a bit grumpy, so home we come. There is still enough room for party guests if you intend putting them up on The Mountain. I might even be free to come and party if we are not too late. Loving you. Can’t wait to see you——X
I don’t hear from Adrian. I wonder how the party is going? I expect he is in the middle of the festivities; too busy to respond to his phone.
Later, Mouse: Hi Friend, we are all home now. Did you get my earlier message? The Kinder are asleep, rugby is on in the top cabin for the Senior Male and your Mouse is in a much-needed bath. I am probably too tired to come down. Hope the party is going well? Perhaps you could text me when you receive this, just so I know who might be coming up for the night? Take care——X
Sunday 22nd October 2006
A.m. Adrian: Slept on sofa——had it. Dogs okay, just walked them. Bog-Brush well behaved. Training at the park. Party was fun——mostly. Drank quite a lot——headache and hangover now——yeech! Lots of chaos left behind at your place; sorry. Thought you’d be away longer. I’ll come up later on. Not sure when; need to nurse my head. X
Mouse: My poor Lover with a sore head——been longing for your call, longing to lie in your arms. Am enjoying having your things here in The Castle. No chaos at all. Why don’t you come up now and I can look after you while I unload the car. Laird still asleep and expecting to find you here when he wakes——X
Adrian: Think I’ll go for a swim. Let the dogs stretch their legs. Need something drastic——
Mouse: Our texts crossed. A swim might certainly sort out the head. Drastic indeed, my stoic Friend. We are off to church at 10.0a.m, then to the café next door to meet a new English family who have a son in College with Cedric. He has been staying with them. Shall I come and colle
ct the dog after that? ——X
Adrian: Still thinking about my plans. Threw up just now——tender little tummy. Let you know after breakfast.
Mouse: Darling Friend——Rinky and I can swing by now and collect the dog. You don’t need to be sociable unless you feel like it. Sorry you are so rough——X
Indulgent lemon pie in the café next to the church makes for a pleasurable Sunday treat. We sit beneath a giant magnolia tree with a nice family from the U.K. They have recently moved from Cornwall. Most people we meet from Britain come from ‘up north’, so it’s good to find a common thread in some southerners. They are interesting people; both having worked in the fair trade office of a well-known, global company. Rinky and I are given permission to spend the afternoon with Adrian after our café outing; until three o’clock anyway.
Mid-morning, Adrian: Hello, My Sweet. I am on my way to the dump. Might stop by a shady river somewhere. Meet me?
Mouse: Hi Darling. Just leaving far end of town. Have The Minx in tow. Where to meet?
Adrian: Let’s go to Mallory Falls. Stay there; I’ll come your way. We can go in my car.
Mouse: Meet me at the Hire shop on the roundabout. Love you—X
A cold dip in the rain helps Lord Swallow’s head while Rinky and I admire his bravery and physic. We perch on a large rock, enjoying the scenery. Mallory Falls is a favourite spot for rock ramblers and swimmers. Families gather with assorted relations, picnics and togs, {swimming things}. A series of dramatic terraces and pools are accessible when the water is less vigorous in its sea-bound journey. Intrepid Maori youth hang off a high bridge and plunge into the water below. The Water-Board regularly opens the floodgates and an enormous quantity of white water hurls itself over the steep rock-face, giving hours of fun to kayakers further down-river.
New Zealanders are big into outdoor pursuits. Sports energy foods fill the health food shops and family garages usually house skis, boats, surfboards and tramping boots, {trekking boots}. The adventuring spirit is certainly to the fore, more so than at home. We noticed the difference on our first day in the country. Driving down from Auckland we stopped for petrol and were surprised to find frozen fishing bait for sale alongside the chocolate bars.
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