Magic weekend

Ah, what a weekend!

Yesterday was finding-my-people bliss. For breakfast we had R and R (R being my boss and R being my boss’s partner—don’t get them confused). For those of you who aren’t keeping up, I adore R, and having her and her partner come for breakfast was a joy. We had a long walk up the narrow, high-tide beach, and dodged the waves, laughing. The grownups sat and talked at the stream while the kids collected driftwood and played Poohsticks. We talked about children and art and beauty and education, and I got to admire R and R more and more. Then to the new house for a house tour and the great joy of showing the place off to someone whose aesthetic I admire. It was a beautiful morning.

Then the phone rang and GL called, to say that yes, he would like to come for dinner (I had invited him days ago) and could he bring B? Yes, they could both come, and that would be fantastic. With R and R gone, we made vegetarian chilli and Uncle Bill cookies, and heated up the house in the late winter sun. Then, when the cookie dough was done enough so that the children were chocolate smeared with the beaters, GL and B arrived out for a sunset walk on the beach. Up the wide, low-tide beach, kids on their bikes on the big stretch of sand, we made our way to the new house for sunset. GL was blissed out in the lovely sheltered garden, and B listened carefully to the various house ideas as he walked through the empty rooms. We stood on the front porch and watched the sun sink into the sea, and we wondered whether it would be possible to be unhappy while looking at this view (possible, yes, but harder than you might think). Then back to our current house to warm up in front of the fire, eat the chilli, listen to the chatter of children until bed time. Then, kids tucked in bed, grownups had glasses of wine and tea in front of the fire and beautiful conversation about the future of New Zealand and how we could shape it. Rich and mind-bending conversation punctuated by thoughtful silences or gentle laughter. Magnificent. It was, perhaps, the best Sunday I’ve spent these last 9 months. (And, as the next two weeks are kid birthday parties on the Sundays, it might be the best one for a while ahead, too…)

There was another bit of magic this weekend, too, that might surprise the regular blog reader. I wrote about raising my girl in a village, and needing a village to raise her, and many of you wrote to offer ideas, help, and love in general. I heard from people I didn’t know read the blog (hello Carole and Judith), and felt like I actually did live in a village with all of you. Then, on the Saturday walk up the beach, Naomi and I had a conversation about the non-sleepover, non-spa party—the party I was making her have. She hasn’t been paying much attention to that one. I suggested a Harry Potter theme for that, and we began playing with ideas. As the evening unfolded, the magic began. She got more and more excited about the various things a Harry Potter party could include. How would we ever put it all in the 2.5 hours of the daytime party? Then—poof—an idea. It would be so much better for her to have just one party, for her to have all of it be the Harry Potter party, all be the sleepover, Naomi explained earnestly. And thus, the idea of two parties was transfigured into one wizarding spectacular with the flick of a driftwood wand.

Today was back to the work-a-day world, although, as I’ve mentioned previously, I love my boss and thus being at work is a joy. The big problem today was the weather. It was one thing for it to be chilly; I’m used to that. And yes, the rain was coming down hard—and soon turned to hail before turning back to the sun as we walked up the hill. But none of that interfered with my work in any way. The major interference, for which I was unprepared, was the plethora of rainbows. After kissing us goodbye this morning so we could go to the train, Naomi called after us to show us the rainbow in the clouds over the train station. On the train, we saw rainbow after rainbow, one standing out like neon in the grey sky, its mirror rainbow hovering brightly above it, its edges trailing into house windows and lighting up the spaces inside. Then, at work, more rainbows, making it impossible for me to get anything done. I mean, who can focus with all of these rainbows about? While R and I were talking (and having a seriously interesting conversation about leadership), a rainbow appeared out the window behind her, distracting me, and playing peek-a-boo in the changing sun. As I edited a paper, rainbows over Mt. Victoria made my computer difficult to watch. And, on my way out the door, a rainbow heading straight to the harbour made it impossible for me to leave on time. What is a girl to do with all these colours everywhere? And no place was safe—the rainbows were out every window. The working conditions I have to put up with are indeed problematic (I've attached a picture to gain your sympathy)! We’ll hope tomorrow is an uglier day.

So, a weekend filled with friends, touched by magic, and tied up with a rain bow. I hope this portends a good week.