The last 3 days have been a bit of a blur, I don't think for one moment that I can remember
everything, so I intend to let the pictures do most of the talking.
Stan & I have been left home alone whilst the Tanner posse have headed off to Tauranga to see
friends. We are feeling naughty as we are Blogging & whetting our whistles with vodka-based
foodstuffs. If some of the entry rambles incoherently, then 1 of 2 things have occurred.
Either, I have over-indulged in 'Platinum 7' a delicious vodka & vanilla combo or Stan has wrested
the keyboard from my grip.
If there are those of you thinking that vodka & vanilla at 1853 is excessive then I have one
thing to say,
(35 if you're wondering - is that right Ange ?)
It was Ange's happy task to inform me one year (in about February as I recall) that I had celebrated
my 30th bday too early & was in fact a spring-chicken-like 29)
And so, we all retired to bed relatively early on Christmas Eve, the kids having been threatened/bribed
with the promise of $50 if they were still asleep by 0800.
We converged on the living room at about 0900, the kids neatly dressed & washed & yours truly
letting the side down by appearing in my infamous garb which Eric refers to as
After a spectacular breakfast of pancakes, fresh fruit & cream
we gathered at the base of the tree to say a quiet prayer to Jesus to remember this most holy
of days. Yeah right.
What followed was a session, nay an orgy, of tearing tissue, tears, tantrums, tirades &
terrapins (ok, I was struggling with the alliteration)
The highlights were Eric receiving his chainsaw. First time I have seen him speechless.
Michelle receiving her camera.
You shouldn't have (but I am very glad you did)
I got my tractor, albeit Matchbox sized
And Eric receiving his Maori phrasebook.
Let me explain.
Stan & I had a huge amount of fun shopping for Eric's pressies. We knew that he has a hatred
of 'tat' & especially Kiwiana 'tat'. Alice used to buy him ornaments from the local $2 shop & hand
them over with pride & love, her eyes shining at Eric's apparent delight.
These gifts include, a trio of woolly pigs which appear to have fallen from an airplane, and
a morose-looking Collie. Eventually, Eric beseeched Alice not to buy any more of these
gifts, begging her to save her money.
Eric's approach to integration in Zeeland is to wring his hands with horror at how the locals
mangle their vowels & he pledges to speak the Queen's English at all times. He eschews
the local tradition of muffins with coffee at his workplace & sticks steadfastly to his Earl Grey.
He advises the girls that instead of embracing Maori, they should be teaching the Maoris how
to speak English.
If you want to see a parent whose toes curl in mortification, watch Eric when the girls
perform their latest hand-twirling Maori ditty. Michelle will listen in rapt attention, head cocked to
one side, smiling benignly. Sneak a glance at Eric's face however, & you will see the expression
of someone who has bitten into raw liver believing it to be cooked.
When Stan & I went shopping, we found a shop which gloried in all things 'tat'. Amongst the
treasures, we located a snowstorm sheep globe, a nodding Kiwi (which Eric has been
instructed to place in his work van) a glass too small to drink anything from, a squeezy sheep-
shaped pencil sharpener & of course the phrase-book.
Stan took great delight in leaping around the aisles shouting loudly, 'Look at this, it's
even more tacky & useless than the last thing we found' much to my mortification
& the disgust of the 2 ladies working behind the counter.
With our choices gripped tightly in our sweaty hands, we approached the counter, weak
with laughter & at the point when the older lady looked approvingly at our choices &
remarked
'You could shop all day in here couldn't you ?'
we knew that to look at each other would be fateful.
Things worsened however when she lovingly wrapped
The Glass that is Too Small to drink anything from in bubble wrap.
It was all we could do to hand over the readies before fleeing the shop in fits
of screechy, girly giggles.
We determined that we would hand over Eric's pressies with completely straight faces to see if
he would lie convincingly & say how lovely they were. As soon as Eric's face registered the Maori
phrasebook however, we fell about, as you will see.
The most entertaining phrase we have found so far, refers to Unfaithfulness & goes
'Where were you when the fuschia dropped it's leaves ?
Stan has just retired to feed the pigs, apparently dismayed at how long it takes me to write
these entries. He is anxiously waiting for me to finish writing so that he can show me how
to insert pics. I imagine he thought I could trot out this inane stuff at an Archeresque rate.
I think I have disappointed him.
Michelle called for a break on unwrapping pressies for refreshments & so that we could retire outdoors to
It's hard to say whether Eric was more impressed with the chainsaw or with the clay pigeon launcher & clays which Michelle gave him.
More of the latter later.
We ended the day with a quite superb duck dinner (well done all concerned)
and yet more pressie unwrapping.
I am embarrassed to say that I was still unwrapping pressies after everyone else thanks to the
incredible generosity of some lovely friends. Separate 'thank-you' e-mails to follow if you haven't
received yours yet.
Us grown-ups spent the evening on the deck, surrounded by tea-lights & incense-sticks
(Stan's, personally I hate the things) & Michelle chatted with her folks, Ma & Pa Smith.
I spoke to them too, it was good to put voices to the e-mails & we swapped tips
about the best places to play golf. I look forward to meeting them when they arrive in February.
The day ended on a slightly different note when I called Mummie to wish her Happy Christmas.
It was apparent that she was having a difficult day. Her dressings had been removed & she was
understandably shocked when viewing the op site for the first time. We spent a couple of hours
talking & she confessed that she was having trouble managing at home since her discharge
from hosp.
What followed was a couple more hours of fone calls to the hospital, various breast cancer
charities & out of hours social services to see if any assistance could be arranged for her.
Despite an incredibly long & tiring day, both Tanners stayed up with me whilst I made all
these calls, despite the fact they were both obviously flagging.
Michelle, with her nursing background, was especially practical & helpful & it was she who
suggested I call the hospital. Eric placed a fleece around my shoulders as I was shaking
not with cold, but with distress after speaking to Mum.
The hospital have, very surprisingly, offered Mum the option of going back in for a few days.
She is grateful & contemplating it, but my brother, Lloyd, has offered for the next 6 days
at least, to call every day & do odd jobs as well as prepare meals. I may still be heading home
after those 6 days but I am very relieved to know that someone is looking in on her every day.
We finally retired to bed, after I spoke with Lloyd at 0130.
I don't know what I would do without the Tanners sometimes.
Boxing Day
The Tanners friends, the Stokes arrived on Boxing Day, with their parents Anne & Mike in tow.
Kevin was slightly off-form suffering an upset stomach, but despite this, it was generally
a convivial day with the Tanners playing their favourite game ..
'Lets see who can ply the guest with the most food'
I had a bit of a funny turn & (read this next bit in a whisper) ended up straightening
all the girls hair for them. This was very well-received & I suspect I will be very
unpopular with Juliet, who has since been besieged with requests by the girls for
hair-straighteners.
Hannah today asked me how old I was on this birthday. When I told her, she replied
that I looked 'about 24 & was pretty'.
I always did love kids.
With a genius like spasm of inspiration Uncle Stinley suggested the kids retire to the lodgers
cottage to watch the Two Towers. The adults got over 3 hours of quality time & the girls
commenced their education, that is the appreciation of' Him '
One by one all the adults retired to bed & left Stan & I on the opposing sofas
discussing Things & How People Let You Down.
As I related a particularly heartfelt tale of love, pain & betrayal & finished with
'& I suppose that's what hurts most, don't you agree Stan ? .... Stan ? .... Stan ?
My question was met with gentle, reverberating snores, which just goes to show,
we are never as eternally fascinating as we think we are. The funny thing now is that
Stan will always have to pretend he knows what I am talking about when I refer to
the story I told him Boxing Day evening. Either that or admit he fell asleep.
The day when Briggsy was born.
Stan made up for his previous evening's social gaffe by presenting Humpy & I with hot-
buttered toast & steaming tea in bed (or sofa to be accurate). As you will see, I awake
dewy-eyed & gorgeous, just as the freshly made-up lovelies do on day-time tv.
After checking who vomited during the night ... Alice (copiously & lavishly at 0130)
Who felt bad but hadn't vomited ... Kevin, Juliet, Michelle,Stan, Ann & Hannah.
Who had felt bad, but now felt fine ... Eric.
Who hadn't at any stage been Southern Shandy Supping poofters ... Carol, Harriette, Emma & Mike.
We then had a Cluedo style round of 'Who ate what ?'
The rules are somewhat vague & people weren't taking their turn correctly but the game
essentially consists of each person shouting out, in an entirely random fashion, believing their
own input to be singularly interesting ...
'Well, I didn't have the mussels, but I did have the salmon, but I ate salmon at Uncle Derek's funeral
& it didn't disagree with the then' whilst someone undercuts that person with the revelation that
'I did have the lolly kebabs (don't ask) but I didn't have the mussels because I swallowed a
mussel to see what it was like & it came back up again. (I'm not making this up).
Once everyone's stomach contents had been discussed, we retired to the deck for a table-
creakingly large barbecued full-cooked breakfast.
I have a vague recollection of the concept of hunger, prior to meeting the Tanners.
Once the Stokes posse had left (after demands for more hair-straightening had been met)
we converged upon the front paddock for the highlight of the hols so far.
Eric received a clay launcher from Michelle, which the salesman assured her Eric would
be 'rapt' with. I can only assume Eric had been into the shop beforehand to point
out a suitable gift as he was thoroughly delighted.
After staking out a suitably safe vantage point to shoot from, we all had a bash at shooting
clays. Honourable mentions go to Eric who shot with panache & distinction, despite
never having shot a clay before.
Michelle, who, after initially exclaiming 'Jesus' & almost throwing away the shotgun
in surprise at how loud the report was, went on to hit her 2nd clay. In her glee
at hitting only her 2nd shot she swung the gun around, exclaiming in delight
'I hit it, I hit it & I wasn't even frighted' (nb, not a spelling error, but how the Tanners
say it) Everyone ducked rapidly & asked her to point the weapon away from us
whilst she did her victory dance.
And Stan, who first of all said 'No thank you', when asked if he would like to have a go,
but soon overcame his reluctance & merrily blasted away like a pro, cracking clays
left, right & centre whilst explaining that 'It was fun, wasn't it ?'
Our hopes that it was beginners luck were dashed as he swung, aimed & blasted,
looking for all the world like a slightly larger Vinnie Jones in 'Lock, Stock...'
Harriette & Alice sensibly declined Eric's offer for them to have a go.
The copious bruising on my right shoulder is testament to their good sense.
Eric, who has always cherished hopes that he could convert Michelle to his
hunting ways, couldn't have been more delighted as she took to it so readily.
'It'll be duck-hunting next' he confided to the kids after we had cleared up all the stuff
& retired to the pool for a refreshing dip (for him & the kids) & a soothing foot-dabble
for the more sensible amongst us, who know the pool thermometer is lying when
it posts a temperature of 22 degrees in the pool. Nonsense.
And that about brings us up to date, I think.
The Big Guy has just replenished my vodka & vanilla & we will start posting pics now.
I am back to work tomorrow, 0600 start & working New Years Eve or 'Nyeve' as
Ange pronounces it, as well as New Year's Day. I don't mind, I will explain
my feeling about New years in a later Blog.
To all of you, well almost all, I wish you a happy, peaceful, fun-filled Christmas holidays.
Cx
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