Wednesday, April 19, 2006

paihia rd

As promised to those of you out of auckland/nz, here are some pics of the new powell-ritchie residence. The new place is considerably larger than the MacPherson St house. Our new landlord is fantastic and is currently building a second bathroom/laundry for us that will be finished in the next few weeks. nice.

The new house lacks quirky features (no fountain, no bar, no spa bath and no wardrobe toilet!) But it is light, spacious and airy.
You will also notice that the new study is the nemesis of the old study. There is no chance that this room will retain the nickname 'bagend'.

Au revoir!

Wednesday, April 12, 2006


It has been said that moving house is one of the most stressful things that you can do. I just counted on my fingers and realized that in the last 13 years I have lived in 14 different houses, some of those houses I have lived in, left and gone back to several times. Needless to say, movement and resettlement have become like an annual ritual.

Today is day 5 in house number 15.

I have a love-hate relationship with moving. I hate packing. I hate that the packing never seems to end. I hate the black ink from the newspaper which inevitably ends up all over your hands, and gets smudged all over your nose and forehead. I hate that the packing never seems to end. I hate having to scrub every windowsill, skirting and wardrobe corner to ensure that the house you are leaving is 10 times cleaner than when you moved in. I hate that the packing and the cleaning never seem to end. I hate carrying boxes from the house to the car, from the car to the new house. I hate that the packing and the cleaning and the carrying never seem to end.

But I love opening the boxes.

It's strange I guess, but the newspaper annoys me less at the other end. Maybe because there is something about unpacking that is strangely reminiscent of Christmas and Birthdays. Even though the things you are unpacking are not new, there is a sense in which you rediscover them when you open them up at the other end. And then you get to decide where they are going to go. The old merges with the new. The end product is at once new and exciting, comforting and familiar.

I love how every object is connected to my life and memory. Our dinner set is not just a dinner set, it's the dinner set my brother gave me; the milk jug is not just a milk jug, it's the milk jug my friend got us as an engagement present; my desk is not just a very difficult piece of furniture to move, it is the desk that my friend's dad gave me, it's the desk I am sitting at right at this very moment. It is also my favourite piece of furniture because I have had it so long, and because when I sit here at this desk I feel somehow connected to all those houses I have lived in, all the people that I have lived with.

I feel grateful that my life has been graced with so many beautiful people.