A lovely time yesterday with friends and family in the evening - a little bit train stationy but not unmanageable.
My sister Carla came down from Waipu yesterday and we spent most of today together.
It went something like this...
10am Carla arrived.
About 20 minutes later I received a "presidential visit" from Kate Gainsford (PPTA) and Barbara Hill (who, as my field officer, has been doing a wonderful job of sorting stuff out and brought by a Tom Lehrer cd as an added bonus).
12pm straight on to the visa entertainment website and got tickets for those "old friends" Simon and indeed Garfunkel.
Then out to Huia for a walk in the bush.
Gorgeous day, dappled sunlight, quiet forests, gentle gurgling streams, the calls of tui and bellbirds...
And of course stopping off for a coffee and icecream at the Huia store.
Carla and I had a big talk about our family, and in particular our parents...for me, all of my memories are connected with being here in NZ...
Carla's memories go back to Holland and Indonesia, and of course as the eldest child her relationships with my sisters is from quite a different perspective to mine.
Another beautiful day.
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Just heard your news. Struggling to take it in. Feel gutted for you all. Feel priviledged to have read all your comments and insights. You'll be in our thoughts and prayers. Brian, Rosemary, Amy and Jett Harris
ReplyDeleteHi there guys - I was sad not to have time (I was in Akl for, oh, 2 days....)to hunt you down. And LOVE reading this blog - I feel connected to you both even though it has been largely one-sided...and feel love for you both, as you share the ups downs and in betweens.
ReplyDeleteAnd since you are obviously enjoying the fruit of the vine - here is a poem that I love (though don't let the kids read it all...) the richness of wine, the richness of life - Le Chaim!!
Ode To Wine
Day-colored wine,
night-colored wine,
wine with purple feet
or wine with topaz blood,
wine,
starry child
of earth,
wine, smooth
as a golden sword,
soft
as lascivious velvet,
wine, spiral-seashelled
and full of wonder,
amorous,
marine;
never has one goblet contained you,
one song, one man,
you are choral, gregarious,
at the least, you must be shared.
At times
you feed on mortal
memories;
your wave carries us
from tomb to tomb,
stonecutter of icy sepulchers,
and we weep
transitory tears;
your
glorious
spring dress
is different,
blood rises through the shoots,
wind incites the day,
nothing is left
of your immutable soul.
Wine
stirs the spring, happiness
bursts through the earth like a plant,
walls crumble,
and rocky cliffs,
chasms close,
as song is born.
A jug of wine, and thou beside me
in the wilderness,
sang the ancient poet.
Let the wine pitcher
add to the kiss of love its own.
My darling, suddenly
the line of your hip
becomes the brimming curve
of the wine goblet,
your breast is the grape cluster,
your nipples are the grapes,
the gleam of spirits lights your hair,
and your navel is a chaste seal
stamped on the vessel of your belly,
your love an inexhaustible
cascade of wine,
light that illuminates my senses,
the earthly splendor of life.
But you are more than love,
the fiery kiss,
the heat of fire,
more than the wine of life;
you are
the community of man,
translucency,
chorus of discipline,
abundance of flowers.
I like on the table,
when we're speaking,
the light of a bottle
of intelligent wine.
Drink it,
and remember in every
drop of gold,
in every topaz glass,
in every purple ladle,
that autumn labored
to fill the vessel with wine;
and in the ritual of his office,
let the simple man remember
to think of the soil and of his duty,
to propagate the canticle of the wine.
Pablo Neruda
Brian - is this you or Rosemary on your address?
ReplyDeleteOnly pray!
Read - too late to censor edit or otherwise the Neruda poem - anyway, my kids are used to talking about nipples and things, and can be expected to read the Song of Songs in the near future which contains stronger metaphors by far (you won't find THAT book in the children's bible or bible-as-graphic-novel editions!)
A jug of wine, and thou beside me in the wilderness - that's Omar Khayyam isn't it - or Khalil Gibran - I think Khayyam...
great poem for us winelovers!
OOOOHHH Yuk! But now I'm going to have to read the Song of Songs start to finish and report on the eewwy bits I find in it!
ReplyDeleteLOL
I've never really been into Pablo Neruda - is he Argentinian? - but after what you said I just had to read the poem. It does seem pretty tame compared to the Song of Songs. Having scanned through the Song of Songs it seems that nipples as grapes is an unoriginal idea, and as for those fawns and towers...
ReplyDeleteI guess part of the point is not always the exact nature of the metaphor, but how closely identified the metaphor is with the overall work - does it strengthen the core message of the poem (or even a part of it) or dilute and distract?
ReplyDelete