A Glass Full of Water

  I was watching the 7am TV news, when a moving shape outside our Hamilton home lounge caught my eye. A hooded figure came into view. He was struggling to lift two large bags over a hedge bordering a neighbours property. Quickly realising he was making for the gap between our house and another neighbouring property, I yelled to Val, “Burglar! Burglar!”  I sprinted on to our lawn, intending on cutting the intruder off. Perhaps a good rugby tackle would stop him? It was a great plan with very poor execution as old calf and hamstring injuries came back with a vengeance. Down I went with arms flailing. Val ran inside to ring the police.  At this stage two of our neighbours came out to see what all the early morning yelling was about. Raewyn and Peter looked at my contorted, moaning face. Val and Raewyn couldn’t help themselves and started to giggle.  Two policemen arrived a few minutes later. They tried to be professional, but soon they too were turning their heads away ...

I watched in awe as a massive log twisted upwards in the wind created by a huge fire. The ferocity of flames knows no human bounds.  When I left school my first job was in a forestry gang near Warkworth, north of Auckland. During the fire season we longed for a drink, something to eat and rest in the shade as we wore full length protective gear and wielded flame throwers and diesel burners in the sweltering heat. Ironically and even with that experience, I can only imagine how tough it has been for the Los Angeles fire fighters. We trust they are being well looked after by their colleagues and communities. How good it is to know that a kiwi owned cafe in West Hollywood has been offering free coffees to frontline workers and evacuees of the wildfires. A ‘big ups’ to the Ponsonby Road Cafe and owner Jaime Choi.  Closer to home, a big thanks to volunteers from Matatā and Ōpōtiki (Bay of Plenty, North Island) who provided fatigue stops for weary travellers early in the new year. ...

“I thought you had Ruth!”  “I thought you had her!” To our horror, Val and I realised that our two year old daughter was somewhere by herself on the inter island ferry between the North and South Island of New Zealand. Our catastrophizing thoughts multiplied as we took our older daughters, Rebeccah and Sarah with us to hunt for her. What if she went overboard? What if she wandered into a cabin somewhere? What if we never find her?  I rushed over to the bar to ask a barman if he had seen a little girl wandering past. He ignored me and turned away. Val was going deck to deck frantically calling and looking. Nothing. I went back on the top deck and looked over the side. If Ruth had gone over she wouldn’t have survived the impact and swirling waters of Cook Strait. Keep looking!  We met at the top of some stairs to restart our panicked search and then heard Ruth. She was crying and being comforted by a kind older woman. Never has a hug been so good as relief and joy flooded o...