A Wet Day

It has been wet all day here. Not great for biking, not great for hanging laundry, but oh so perfect for naps in the afternoon with the cat.

Home at last

[The door to the sunroom/office/craft room]

Last Friday we finally got the keys to our new house - our first house. We were so thrilled that the drizzling rain didn't dampen our spirits (only the bed and couches) as we moved furniture and stuff the five blocks from our rental place to our house. We spent the weekend settling in and on Monday, as probably most of you know, we were struck with another jarring earthquake. In fact, it was a series of relatively sizable ones. And frankly, the second thing to cross my mind (after my husband) was the house. I must say, owning a house adds a whole new dimension to these earth shakes. We're certainly not regretting buying, but it's just another thing to think about in these interesting times.

[The dining table, front door and deck]

But onto the fun stuff. The "quake day" we had today (Tuesday - while engineers check buildings and city and service workers tirelessly ensure we have water and power) allowed me to do the final settling in. This does not, of course, include putting art on the walls as that would make no sense here in Christchurch, since it only ever lasts a few hours or days before it's knocked down again. Fabric art is making a resurgence. Despite the ongoing shaking here, Stephen and I managed to get quite a bit down to make this place our own - putting books in shelves, hanging clothes in closets and raking leaves from the lawn. I'm learning all about the little things my parents did around the house that I never paid attention to, like caulking the windows, and all the things I used to hate doing, somehow have a certain glamor to them as they have new meaning to me.

[Master bedroom - unfortuntaly, we can't take the wallpaper down until our EQC inspection and that probably won't happen until at least the summer - oh well]

Ever since arriving on that blustery Friday afternoon, the house has felt warm and inviting (especially with the fire going in the lounge). At one point when I was putting things away in the hall closet it felt almost like I was just coming home from a trip and was putting things away in their places. I think both Stephen and I have had a hard time not smiling lately and we are thrilled with this new adventure of home ownership. I definitely recommend it to anyone interested!

[Cooking dinner in our new, lovely, large kitchen]

We have lots of dreams for this home and we can't wait to get started. Unfortunately, we can't get started until our Earthquake Commission (EQC) assessment. Though I suppose this will keep us from rushing into doing anything without thinking first. From the sounds of it, we will have lots and LOTS of time to dream and plan and plan and dream and wait. I'm still working on developing my patience.

Unconditional

Yesterday, we officially bought a house.

Here.

In Christchurch.

We weren't really looking. The idea of purchasing a property had been floating around in our heads for a while, but we figured since we weren't residents we wouldn't be able to get a mortgage. So we never really looked. But we did keep our eyes open, because once we were ready to buy we wanted to have a pretty good understanding of where the market was at. And that's how we found our house.

Early in May, we decided to spend a sunny Sunday afternoon biking around between open homes in the area we wanted to eventually buy in. We went to one well over our price range and wandered about, looking for earthquake damage and talking about how the owners had finished the rooms. It was a cute house, nicely finished, but too much for a first house and too finished for our desires.

Then we stumbled across the second house. Following open home signs down roads to a treed-in drive up a wee slope. We parked our bikes beside the retaining wall and walked around back to the door. It was a 1930's wooden villa on a little hill surrounded by trees and shrubs and a little pond. Up some stone steps we came to the deck and french doors into a spacious dinning room and kitchen. The Realtor was there to answer questions and gather our info. We wandered through the kitchen and into the rest of the house. Not a huge house, but lovely with all it's period features (like lead windows and beautiful wooden detailing). A large master bedroom, a sunny sun room, huge living area, nice second bedroom and a well maintained bathroom. Outside, tucked into the back corner under a rose covered arbor was a stainless steel bathtub, ready to be filled and enjoyed. We stayed the full hour asking the Realtor about the house and how exactly one would go about buying one. He passed on the name of his mortgage broker and we were off. My head filled with images of where I would put what and when we could get everything in.

The next day, we called the mortgage broker and were surprised to hear that despite our non-residency status it was possible to get a mortgage, it was just a wee bit more difficult. The wheels were set in motion and soon things were happening. Things I wasn't even aware of, but a week later we were promised a mortgage. I called the Realtor that night and told him we wanted to make an offer.

The next two days were stressful as we put in our offer, almost lost to another bidder (who pulled out last minute) and in the end, were accepted.

Then the real fun began. Lots and lots of contracts, paperwork and forms. Over the last few weeks, we have organized insurance (a bit difficult here these days, what with our earthquakes and all), contacted the lawyer, got a building inspection done and even chosen the mortgage. It has been rather crazy. And now, all we need to do to finish up is find someone to take over our rental flat (we have no desire to be paying both a mortgage and rent).

Overall, I have been thoroughly amazed at how easy the whole process has been. I know it is their respective jobs to know what they're doing and help us through, but the efficiency and openness all our respective 'people' (realtor, mortgage broker and lawyer) have provided us has been eye opening. With my only previous experience in real estate being through the television screen, I have learned a great deal from this. Mostly, that it is a lot easier than I thought to buy a house (though I fully admit, the wonderful house almost falling into our laps did take a lot of the stress of looking out of it).

Now, we must patiently wait and pack. Soon, I will be able to sit curled up in front of my very own fireplace in my very own living room and knit (or sew or read or whatever I want to do, heck, I could even paint the walls a funny colour, or take them down. . . . .

PS I'l have pictures soon!

Christmas Reflections

[Christmas family portrait at Log Cabin - 28oC]

This Christmas, Stephen and I received the wonderful gift of a trip home for the holidays. Both our parents brought us over the Pacific and up the coast to arrive in Whitehorse just two days after Stephens' last day of school. We knew we were in for a busy time, but we were looking forward to seeing friends and family and meeting the newest member of the family, our nephew, Kieran.

We had two weeks to cram in as much visiting and Yukon-ing as possible. But where to begin?! There was skiing to do and people to visit, places to see and meals to be shared, we were drawn out in every direction and hardly had a moment to ourselves. Throughout it all, between the family traditions and our own new beginnings, I found myself contending with a new dilemma. The end of school.

I have been studying now for almost two years and here at the University of Canterbury a PhD is a three year program. So theoretically, this will be my last year and after that I will need to think of a new direction. A place to land. Something worth pursuing. And everyone, understandably so, wanted to know what that was. Unfortunately, I had (and still have) no idea. A major part of answering that question relates to where I want to end up, not just what. Our trip to the Yukon was reaffirming both Stephen and my desires to return there eventually, but there were also certain parts of our home in New Zealand that we didn't want to leave behind.

Most notably, the space and freedom to develop in any direction we want. Without other people's opinions or beliefs or suggestions getting in the way. The beauty and downfall of living in a small town is that everyone knows you and the place you fill, making it hard to branch out from there and do something different. It was a strange feeling to come back to the place we had grown up after two years away and be treated as if nothing had changed. As if our lives on the other side of the world were simply dreams that hadn't really happened. But I suppose if you haven't shared an experience with another person, to them it is just a dream, a thought, an idea. And all you are left with is the memory.

[Driving home in the dark]

So with all this mulling about in my head I was lost a lot in the depths of my head. Thinking about life, the universe, and everything. Then, one day, during a lovely, long and lonely ski at -25oC I realized that I was okay with New Zealand being a memory and a dream, but the Yukon and Canada were very much a place I wanted and needed to be and to live. They were who I was, even while I am here in New Zealand, I am Canadian, a Yukoner, yet while I am in Canada, I am only someone who has visited and lived in New Zealand. And that is okay. I felt much better after this revelation and was able to make my way home along the ski trails in the dark to sit in the sauna and enjoy my new found knowledge. Moments of self-realization are a wonderful gift and should be fully enjoyed whenever they occur. This moment was short lived of course as I moved onto the idea of how on earth I would become employed in my small town with my current schooling.

[Playing Puerto Rico with Dad, Andrew and Stephen]

Life moves on though and we went off for a lovely family dinner afterwards and left these troubling thoughts for another night, another ski. Beyond the shady realm of my deep and labyrinthine thoughts, Christmas was filled with skiing, cold weather, family (and all the joys and frustrations they bring), friends, good food and Christmas tree hunting (for a more detailed account of this, please see dad's blog at http://yukonrambles.blogspot.com/2010/12/perfect-christmas-tree.html). Too soon it was time for us to board our plane and head home (at least the current physical one in which our cat lives).

[Driving home to the summit]

Home again

Well, after a wonderful trip to the ice I am home. We had a great time and got lots of interviews. Now the real work begins as we put our heads down and have to listen and re-listen to all those interviews to analyse them. But before that starts, Stephen and I are off home for some Christmas holidays. Stephen finishes work tomorrow (Friday) and on Sunday we catch our flight to Canada. Although neither of us are really looking forward to 14+ hours on a plane, we are both really looking forward to seeing friends and family (especially the newest member).

Stuck Cat

Yesterday we found a cat stuck in a tree. It was not however in the place you would expect it to be. It was stuck in the middle of the hollow trunk with only a tiny window of a crack opening onto the driveway and apparently a larger hole up top through which it could not return. The first thing I did was laugh.

By the time Stephen came home the cat was a little more upset by its predicament (ie, it hissed rather than meowed pitifully). So I dumped a some food down the crack and managed to get a small yogurt container in as well, into which we siphoned some water (using the fish vacuum-y thingy). This seemed to calm the cat down and it curled up at the back corner of its little prison. Stephen meanwhile got the saw and began to enlarge the hole enough for the cat to get out.

This was of course, all happening in the dark. So there I was in my socks holding a weak flashlight on the hole, Stephen was beside me sawing away at the tree (which is very spongy) with a flickering headlamp on his head and the cat was curled up looking so utterly comfortable in his little nook.

At one point our landlord came by, bringing the rubbish bins up from the curb. I feared he might um, worry about what we were up to. But he was just as worried for the cat and offered to bring the axe tomorrow if we couldn't extract the cat ourselves that night.

Finally, we had what we thought would be a big enough hole (and I had to grab some dinner still before I headed out to quilting). So we packed up and headed in, hoping the cat would sort the rest out itself. Which it seems to have handled just fine, that or a space ship came in the middle of the night and used their tractor beam to pull the cat back up through the hole in the top and off into outer space.

I wonder. . .

(sorry no pictures, my camera is at the doctors' office and I'm not too sure how photogenic angry cats are anyways)

Homesickness

The changing of seasons, especially from summer to fall, always makes me long for home. A sense of cosy comfort, a place to curl up with my knitting (or quilting), warm tea and watch the world change in its own infinitely beautiful way. As much as I am enjoying Christchurch and New Zealand, I find myself of late feeling quite unsettled and nesty. I look through home decorating books, browse the blogs of young mothers and try harder and harder not to think about what we'll do after I graduate. Most importantly, make a home.

I'm homesick for a place that is still only in my dreams. Just waiting to be born.

Hmmm. . . . . I have an idea.

___________________________________________

In other more exciting news, we helped one of our friends celebrate his 30th birthday. He's a big car guy, so we whipped him up a sporty green '77 Corvette Stingray (which just happens to be his - in real life too, not just cake life).

It proved a success and was later followed by a smaller and more economical mini (which was also devoured).

Home

With our recent visit back to the Yukon I've been thinking a lot about what "home" is. Stephen and I would get into discussions about whether we were going home or leaving home, often we would be on alternating sides of the debate.

We're lucky in the sense that we both grew up in the same town and so visits back are easy-ish. We discovered though that there are other problems with having two families and multiple groups of friends in the same community, all of whom expect plenty of face time. We really enjoyed the time we did spend with everyone, but trying to do everything with everyone proved somewhat impossible. And so we had to make do (lots of driving was involved).

Much of our discussions revolved around the idea of heart. Having grown up in the Yukon we both have a deep abiding love for the vast lands of forest and mountain and river, and it is an integral part of who we are as people. It is a part of our identity. But something we've also realized is that as we've grown together and learned to be a family, we have put down various roots in the places where our relationship has developed the most; Victoria, British Columbia and here in Christchurch. These two places are the landscapes where we have shaped our relationship together and really, our lives to come. It is in these places that we can look forward more easily and find new paths to follow. And so we are left with two distinct homes, a place a rememberance, of youth, and of roots. And a place of looking forward, of new roles, and of endless possibilities.

Home, now, is about change. It is about loosing the shackles of a "role" into which we've grown and instead, making our own place in the world. It is a new and wonderful experience to be making our own way in the world, where no one has predetermined ideas about what we can or cannot do, about who we are and where we belong.

I will never forget where I have come from and will never stop calling the Yukon 'home'. But for now (and for who knows how long), New Zealand is proving to be a wonderful home in which to learn, grow, and become.

Trip Home

Sorry for the longish break. We've been home in the Yukon for the last couple of weeks and have lapsed in various regular activities (like exercising, cuddling the cat, and blogging). I thought I should probably tell you the updates may not be as regular and if they happen while I'm here, they will most certainly be more Yukon in focus.