Discovering food

After purchasing a clip-on high chair for Hector he has joined us at the table every night for dinner. He has been given his own plate and set of cutlery and has had great fun banging it around. Until last week, when completely undirected he started using his spoon to move air into his mouth. Stephen and I were blown away (thus capturing the moment on video). And after attending a Plunket first foods class, we decided to get on the road to solids.

We decided to start with kumara (similar to sweet potato for those non-kiwis out there). Something sweet and unprocessed. Mixed with a little milk to help make it familiar and smooth. This was the face we got. . . .

Finally, this evening he actually opened his mouth fully for me to spoon the good stuff into. Several times. I think we may be on to something here. Tomorrow, we start on carrots.

Hector goes to the beach

While he was not named for them, the local dolphins share Hectors' name, so we could not resist taking this photo on the Akaroa beach front.

Closer to home on Sumner Beach. We've been going quite a bit over the past few weeks and have learned how to organize and run a beach excursion with a 4-month old. It involves lots of shade, a good book, snacks, and swim stuff. Then, once Stephen and I have had our fill of swimming (no more than an hour and a half mind you), we take wee Hector down for a splash in the waves. So far no one has gone home screaming.

A good snack is invariably easy to eat finger food, preferably with one hand. This is an especially posh snack with left over ceviche and crackers with chutney, followed by tasty watermelon. What a way to spend an afternoon.

 And of course Hector always has his favorite snack on tap. I just have to make sure I shower to get rid of all the sand and salt - that can't be very tasty. Another gorgeous evening on the beach.

Hector around the house

 Hector likes to hang out around the house sometimes (well, okay, a lot). Below are a selection of his favorite activities.

He can sometimes be convinced to hang out with dad and watch sport, or at least dress up for sport.

He is also learning the concept of "food". I think he is trying to use his awesome mind powers on the apricot in this picture - which must have worked because days later it had gone soft and mushy in defeat.

He enjoys bath time, especially the chewing on the towel afterwards.

Sleeping is another favorite. All over the place - just as long as he is not alone while doing it, or in his cot.

Hammock time is always a hit, especially when the whole family is involved.

More learning to eat. This mostly involves sucking on the plate and throwing the cutlery on the floor. All good things take time.

Helping out in the kitchen is always encouraged in our house. Just today he ate the recipe dad was using to make dinner!

Trying out new toys for getting out and exploring the awesome world around us. I'm pretty sure Hector was grizzling here, but he is learning to love the backpack and will soon be off pottering in the hills around Christchurch. More stories in the making.

Hector goes to Braemar Station

Photo by D. Neufeld

 While my family are visiting from Canada they have booked a couple of weekends away - the first of which was at Braemar Station. We are staying in a holiday home called Pine Cottage which overlooks Lake Pukaki and affords views of Mount Cook/Aoraki on clear days and lots of clouds and fog on not so clear ones.

Looking towards Aoraki.

The drive out to the bach teaches Stephen and I many things on travelling in a car with an infant (well, this one at least). Mostly that drive times should now be at least doubled to allow for stops every hour or two. While this adds to the total road time, we do stop in places we'd never considered before and appreciate what each spot has to offer (like toilets, shade, water, etc.). We pull into the drive at Pine Cottage around 6pm and unload our stuff. With some dinner in our bellies and a wander around the nearby paddocks we climb into bed and look forward to tomorrow.

The next day is glorious and bright (and very windy), so we fill it with walks down by the water, up through the paddocks, and in the hay barn. We took out our discs on the GolfCross course (golf played with balls shaped like rugby balls) and finished the better part of 4 holes. We made and ate many delicious meals. And we survived a massive thunder and lightening storm in the middle of the night which took the power out and left us cooking breakfast on the BBQ the next morning. All in all a lovely time relaxing in the shadow of the grand Southern Alps.

Snuggled and ready for adventure.

Getting ready for that awesome throw on the Golf Cross course.

Dinner at the cottage.

Evening light on the mountains across Lake Pukaki.

Hector goes camping

We love camping. We love getting out of town and into the bush, enjoying the quiet, the space, and the feeling of timelessness. Since I became pregnant, we had been looking forward to taking our wee baby camping. Sharing our love for the outdoors and introducing the wonderful wilds of New Zealand to our new little person. So, two and a half months on, with Christmas fast approaching, we packed the car and headed towards a private campground I'd heard about in Little River on the Banks Peninsula - not 45 minutes from our house.

After a botched attempt at a paddle on a lake along the way (it was WAY too hot to be out in the middle of a lake with no trees along the side for shade), we pulled into Little River for an ice cream cone and a regroup. Stephen was gung-ho, while I worried about the heat which was apparently making me cranky. But I insisted we at least check out the campground and eat our lunch there. So we drove on down the road to find the road in. Unfortunately, we had absolutely no idea where the campground was, so this step took some time. After driving down two wrong roads we pulled back up to the ice cream place and asked where we might find the campground. Five minutes later we were pointed in the right direction and we were off.

The Little River campground is up the Okuti Valley and is tucked up against the hillside running up from the Okuti river. There are lovely tenting and caravaning sites with a funky kitchen and fire pit area with a disco ball. There are mud slides nearby and a nest of (mostly) stroller friendly trails. We pulled into a site, set Hector up in the shade of the trees, and set up some lunch. As I was now in better spirits (lowered blood sugar levels does turn me into a rather grumpy mum), we decided to set up the tent and give the night a go - we could always drive home in the night if we needed to.

We spent the afternoon playing Kubb (while Hector slept in the tent), exploring the trails (with Hector strapped into his Chariot), and eventually, making some dinner (with Hector strapped to Stephen, leaning the ropes of cooking for mom). This also included much worried thought on the extreme heat (28 degrees), the vast hordes of biting sandflies, and the hot, hot sun beating down - at least by me. By 8pm, the time we usually start Hector's bedtime routine, the campground had filled with other campers and we were ready for bed. So we changed his nappy, read him a story, and fed and burped him before plopping him into the stroller bassinett (removed from the stroller) at the head of our tiny tramping tent. He squirmed and wormed for a while, as I fussed over making sure every last sandfly that had gotten into the tent was eradicated. Eventually, Hector was asleep, the flies were all dead, and I felt mildly comfortable with the temperature in the tent.

After one more game of kubb, we both got ready for bed and scrambled into the tent (killing more flies). We settled into our blankets, stuffed the excess sleeping bag under our heads, and read a little before calling it a night. After lying in bed stressing about things that might go wrong, I must have eventually fallen asleep because I woke up holding Hector's blanket under my head. This caused me to freak out and yell at Stephen that I had squashed the baby. I eventually woke up enough to realise Hector was fast asleep in his bassinett and Stephen was still half asleep and completely confused. Calmed by the normalcy of affairs I fell back asleep until Hector woke me up for his next feed. While he managed to go back to sleep, he was fussier than usual and required much longer to settle each time.

The next morning, we awoke at the normal Hector time and began the day. Once again, the men cooked breakfast, while I packed up the gear. We munched on bacon, eggs, and toast, got back into the car and drove into Little River for a well-deserved treat for mom, for making it through our first night of camping.

I have now stipulated that our next camping trip has a max temperature cut off of about 22 degrees, actual pillows for mom, and perhaps some more practice time in the tent for Hector (and maybe some for mom too). Can't wait to see how things go when we start getting out to huts!

Recreating Place - Scott's Hut, Cape Evans

Just outside Scott's Hut at Cape Evans

The Canterbury Museum has an exhibit on at the moment looking at Captain Scott's last, ill-fated journey to Antarctica. There are photographs and stories, videos and sound bites, but most excitingly it also includes a representation of his hut at Cape Evans. This was of particular interest to me regarding my work exploring sense of place and having been to the actual hut itself. I wanted to see how and what they chose to represent it with. What part of the experience were they trying to capture? And how did it differ from my own encounter with this historic place?

Reading about the men who lived there

The exhibit is broken into parts representing the various stages of Scott's journey. One enters through a twisting path exploring the recruitment of men and voyage South. You learn about the thousands of applicants to a journey with no promise of return, about the ponies and dogs who shared the deck with the 65 men chosen, and about the long journey from Cardiff, Wales to Ross Island on the edge of the ice shelf in the Ross Sea. You then turn and enter into the hut. A blast of cold air hits your face as you pass into the dimly lit space laid out with rough-hewn boards and white tape on the floor showing the placement of furniture. There are large black and white images take by Ponting showing the men in the hut and panels beside them telling stories of how the space was used. The long table at the centre of the room has a dancing array of images and text snipits highlighting the life that revolved around it. In one corner, music plays as if from an old gramophone brought down to the ice. And everywhere, cool air breezes past you to remind you of the constant bite that must have existed for those who once lived "here".

What hits me first is the space. I have a feeling that the footprint of this "hut" is the same as the one it is representing. But the lack of furniture and stuff makes it feel empty and hollow. This is interesting because the actual hut also has this feeling, only for different reasons. The articles are strewn about the place in a haphazard sort of way, almost as if someone will be returning shortly to tidy them away. And yet they are all frozen to the surfaces on which they rest and haven't moved from their places in 100 years. The bunks, some whose occupants now lie hundreds of metres under the ice are eerily tousled as if the occupants might settle in for another night. While the hut at the museum can't quite communicate these feelings of loss, the empty, hollowness itself is perhaps a fitting feeling for a hut locked in time.

Kitchen at Scott's hut

Reimagined kitchen

The other thing that gets me is the light. I visited Scott's hut in the middle of summer so the light which filtered in through the small windows was bright and filled the large room. This gave the hut a feeling of lightness which off set the heavy emptiness mentioned above. The museum hut was dark, with corners lit up with spotlights. I imagine this would be far more representative of the long, dark winter the men would have endured there. It also gave the "hut" a feeling of fleetingness, with the ever present darkness waiting to extinguish a picture or story. While different from my own, previous experience in Scott's hut, I enjoyed this one in how it spoke to the everyday challenge of living in such conditions on a frozen rock locked into a giant ice shelf - waiting.

Outside the "hut" were stories of how life outside the hut would have gone. Stories about dog sledding, man hauling, and getting the pole party ready for their departure. Unfortunately, this is where Hector decided he'd had enough so we motored on through and had a feed while watching the final film with various historians talking about their work. We then left the space and wandered back through the botanic gardens to the car. All of which varied a great deal to how I left after visiting Scott's hut in Antarctica - which included snow, ice, and a very bumpy Hagglund ride, all without a wee baby in tow.

Scientific pursuits

Actual equipment used

It was a neat experience, visiting this representation of a place I had been. While some things were easily recalled through the careful attention of the curator, there were vast differences which simply could not be changed - physical location and the presence of Hector being the two most glaring. It highlights the ever evolving nature of our relationship to places and the multitude of different ways of seeing them. As we change and develop as individuals, our perceptions change as our values and interests alter, as do our opportunities and ways of seeing. For me, at this moment in time, Antarctica feels at once nearer and further than it ever has before. Hector's arrival has limited my opportunities for travel to Antarctica in the near future and has pushed the continent just beyond my grasp. However, the new challenges and the drawing in of my focus to the minutia of daily tasks has given me a new way to see and time to reflect on my memories from and research into Antarctica.

Scott's dining table

The recreated dining table at the musuem

Overall, I enjoyed the exhibit and look forward to getting back there when my folks are here in order to look through the second half of it.

Hector goes to Port Levy

Port Levy wharf

Last weekend Hector went for his first overnight trip. With Nana here and the weather looking glorious we decided to take advantage of my supervisors' bach just an hour and a half away on the Banks Peninsula. So, with the boxes and bags of stuff we would need and the canoe on the roof, we drove off over the hills. While Port Levy is not far from Christchurch, the road follows the curvilinear path of Lyttleton Harbour and therefore takes the better part of an hour and a half to travel a mere 45km. But the road passes some gorgeous places and the views from the tops of the hills are always lovely.

Nana drawing Hector

Eventually, we rolled into Port Levy and found the green roofed house at the start of the bay. A glorious little place tucked in against the edge of the hill with a sprawling grass yard down to the rocky beach. Having left early we arrived well before lunch and proceeded to unpack our stuff. Stephen set up his newly crafted baby gym for Hector on the lawn and with a few blankets draped over it, it made the perfect sun shade. We lounged on the grass with our books, knitting, and some lunch. As the afternoon drew on, we explored the surrounding bay along the gravel road which clung to the hillside just above the bach. In the evening, after a tasty BBQ dinner and a relaxing evening doing nothing we settled down into bed and listened to the waves on the rocky beach outside.

The next morning, waking at Hector o'clock, Stephen and I set to making breakfast/entertaining Hector. We have found that the morning is Hectors' smiliest part of the day and we have enjoyed it to no end. I would never have thought I would so happily get up at 5am, but here I am. We ate breakfast at the more reasonable hour of 8-ish and decided to get out on the water while the wind was still calm. So while I prepped Hector, Stephen got the canoe down to the water and Jan got the kayak out from the rack by the bach.

Jan out for a paddle

The water was lovely and placid. With Hector fast asleep in his bassinette in the middle of the boat, we paddled out to the island in the bay. Long and narrow, covered in pines, the island stretches from our weekend home out towards the inlet entrance. We found a flock of cormorants nesting in the tree tops at one end of the island and a boarded up bach tucked away on top at the other end. After a couple of circuits of the island and a trip down towards the ocean, the wind started to pick up and we decided to head for shore.

As the morning quickly passed into the afternoon, we ate some lunch and slowly started to pack our stuff. Because, while Jan and I had nothing to rush back to in town, Stephen had school to prepare for the next day. So we piled everything back into the subaru and headed down the road towards home.

Daddy working hard