In 2006 we were looking for a house to buy. We'd seen a collection of smallish villas within our price range, but all of them suffered from one of Dunedin's real estate traps: shade, wind or the ravages of old age. On a whim Clemency dragged me off to see this place, substantially out of our budget. It had a large garden, laid out to the sun with a school on one side and a reserve on another. Macrocarpa and blue gums towered 80ft into the sky to the South, sheltering the wind but not taking away any sun. It had a view to the harbour. Inside the house was tired, but it was light and airy and warm and even though it was small it felt spacious. It had two bathrooms and wooden ceilings soaring, in places to 20 ft above the floor. Every room was on a different level. It felt right. We bought it. it's been a stretch but we will retire without a mortgage.
After renting it out for a few years we moved in 6 years ago. I built a study on one side which is my happy place. Clemency has the garden for hers. It is sheltered from every wind except the Nor' Easter, and on days when we see the city on the other side of the harbour shivering in wind and shadow, we are in stillness and sunshine with our French doors open onto the deck. The woodburner or the heat pump quickly heat it on the coldest days. I have a list of things which need attending to once April rolls around. It needs painting, and the kitchen needs a revamp, and the deck is a bit grey. But East West and all that, and it's the garden which is the real hospital for tired souls.
It has all been laid out well, and it has grown past its original formality into a kind of tangled wildness. There is greenery at eye level everywhere, but because it slopes gently away towards the sea it never feels enclosed. It is a place which invites presence
We toy with the idea of moving, but really, why would we do a crazy thing like that? We have every part of our lovely city within 10 minutes drive, and within 20 we can be standing on any one of 20 different beaches. Where would we find anything like this, anywhere else? We are happy to approach our codgerdom, reveling in our memories, right here. So, I'll leave it to another bunch of boring old farts to reach into their memory bag, and mine, to express it for me.
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Barbara Withington said…
When we 'retired' last year, many of our friends asked where we would go. Why shift I ask when we found just what we were looking for right here in Millers Flat all of 30 plus years ago.
Anonymous said…
Before you go, what insight do you have into this: http://www.anglican.ink/article/perth-archbishop-steps-down-over-abuse-cover-allegations
I don't think I have any insight into this. I know no more about it than I have read in this article. Roger Herft was once Bishop of Waikato and I was one of his priests. He was the best bishop I ever had. I have seen him only once since he moved to Australia in the early 1990s. From what I read in the article you shared it appears he made a very significant error of judgement in not reporting criminal activity to the police and he is right to resign over it.
Anonymous, I don't usually publish or respond to anonymous comments, and this particular thread is well off topic. But I do recognise the importance of the matters you raise. If there is something you wish to raise with me privately please feel free to contact me personally. I assure you, I will treat whatever you say with the utmost seriousness and confidentiality. My contact details are available on our diocesan website
Kelvin, your photographs are astonishing. I will mention your blog to a Methodist minister friend who is a devotee of Ansell Adams. Best wishes with developing your home.
John is just walking the 80 metres back to his bike here, but you get the general drift. The question I get asked more than any other at the end of the Hikoi is "how are your feet?" It's nice that people care, but my feet have never been an issue on long walks. Good shoes and socks prevent blisters and cushion the effects of long distances on hard surfaces, but I have had other issues. When walking the Camino Santiago knees, Achilles tendons and shin splints have all at one time or another given me trouble. This time round, these have all been fine and I finished feeling as though I could just keep on going indefinitely; to Cape Reinga if needs be. Over the last couple of years I have learned 6 things that have made all the difference. Namely: 1. Footwear. On the Camino I wore walking shoes - Salomon in 2009 and Asics in 2012. A year ago I changed to full walking boots - Salomon Cosmic 2 - and the difference was instant and major. When walking more than 15 minutes...
St. Hilda's Collegiate School, taken with my phone after a recent meeting. This picture has nothing whatsoever to do with what follows, but I like the interplay of shapes and particularly the shadow on the wall. My mother is a Methodist, liberal in her theological and social opinions. My father was a socialist, just slightly to the left, in his politics, of Karl Marx. My siblings -there are 5 of us- are all bright, eloquent and omnivorous in their consumption of books and other intellectual fodder. One of my most cherished childhood memories is of mealtimes in our little state house. The food was ingested with copious amounts of spirited, opinionated, clever and sometimes informed debate on whatever subject happened to catch the attention of one of the family that day. Or whatever one of us thought might get a rise out of someone else. So, sex, politics and religion it was then - oh and motorbikes, economics, international relations, demographics, cricket, company ownersh...
It happens sometimes. I have a question or am pondering some conundrum or other and the right book arrives at pretty much the right time. In a session with my supervisor a few months back Paul mentioned an article by Rene Girard, whom I had never heard of. I read the article and over the past month have read two of his books, The Scapegoat and this one. I have another couple sitting on my shelf and they have elbowed all others in my to be read pile out of the way and sit firmly on the top. Girard has pulled a number of threads together for me: he has enabled me to rethink the atonement in a way which is consistent with an evolving Universe: he presents a view of scripture which is again consistent with what I know of science but is also faithful to the Bible as the Word of God; he has given me, for the first time in my life a theology (if that is the right word) of Satan which makes sense to me. Most importantly for me, he is consistent with my own lived experience of God's s...
An autumn leaf, the evidence of the death whereby the grapevine lives and bears fruit There are 31,102 verses in the Bible, or at least in the Protestant version of it which the conservative section of our church recognises. Of these, there are 6 verses which explicitly condemn homosexual practice. The best scholars in the Christian world have pointed out the ambiguity of even these scraps of scripture, but this does not prevent their becoming the basis of an antipathy to contemporary same gender sexuality which I was repeatedly told, during General Synod, was "First Order". I'm not sure what "First Order" means exactly, but I was told that this is a "Salvation Matter". So, presumably, holding a proper view on homosexuality is right up there in importance with belief in the doctrines I would consider foundational for the Christian faith: namely the Holy Trinity, Incarnation and Resurrection. In any event, antipathy to homosexuality has already ...
On the front lawn There is a bundle of green and white feathers. A woodpigeon. A dead one. We have a lot of trees in our neighbourhood and a very busy road, which is not a good combination for wood pigeons. They are great big ungainly birds and before they have acquired a sense of self preservation the young ones are inclined to accidental jousts with cars. The cars seldom lose. This bird has just won the silver medal in a bout with a Toyota Camry and has retired as far as our front lawn before becoming considerably short of breath. I go out with a shovel and dig a hole in the flower garden, and go a pick up the carcase. I love these birds. Their feathers have a rich metallic sheen, and the green and white of their plumage reflects back every shade of red - but just in suggestion, depending on how the sunlight catches them. They are preposterous in their clumsiness. They fly overhead with no pretense at stealth, making a sound like a pair of old fashioned manual hedge cutters with eac...
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