Breaking Bread

One of man's best rituals is the breaking of bread - with friends, with family, with strangers. It is how we open our homes and hearts to others. And, how people welcome one into a community. I have enjoyed many a good meal with Angie and Gavin, Brenda, Alan, Ramona and so many more. With this ritual laughter has been shared and friendship has grown. It's all good and we are thankful for the friends who have invited us into their lives.

At our house it is a revolving door of friends from Dean and Andrew. David eats over every Thursday and we can always count on Vinnie for a meal or two. No matter who's here, one can always slice the pie a little smaller, throw on a pot of rice, stretch it all just a bit more to enjoy the company of these terrific kids.

We have been training Dean to cook us dinner once a week (and do the dishes!). Last week, Frito pie was on the menu. (using our much coveted last bag of US Fritos - the others just don't cut it). Following a twenty year old recipe from Good Housekeeping, Dean added the designated 1/4 cup of chili powder. I reckon that today's chili powder is just a wee bit stronger than that from 20 years ago.


I have never tasted chili quite so spicy.

Milk, water (beer) was no match for the fire in our bellies.

Dean reckons it was a waste of our precious Fritos.


Oh well, Vinnie is now an honorary Texan for eating his whole bowl.

assimilator

1. Physiology
a. To consume and incorporate (nutrients) into the body after digestion.
b. To transform (food) into living tissue by the process of anabolism; metabolize constructively.
2. To incorporate and absorb into the mind: assimilate knowledge.
3. To make similar; cause to resemble.
4. Linguistics To alter (a sound) by assimilation.
5. To absorb (immigrants or a culturally distinct group) into the prevailing culture.




I am an assimilator. If I find myself in a flock of chickens, before long I will be hunting and pecking with the best of 'em. I think this is just a natural response to being in a new environment, but others may see it differently. Some people behave with determined intransigence. You know: I am a duck, and I am going to continue to be a duck, no matter that I am surrounded by chickens. I am going to quack and I am going to look for underwater plants to eat.

Let's dig a into a few concrete examples. Driving on the left. Now that's one you better conform to, or you will be one dead duck. It's also one that no one has a problem with, as it is the rule of law. No one is going to say to you, why are you driving on the left, when that is not your custom? And you are not likely to ask that question of yourself either.

Then there are what I might call "useful" shifts – for example choice of language in situations to better convey meaning. These days I might say, "I am going to put some petrol in the car." Or I could ask, "Is there a petrol station nearby?" This is new talk. Chicken talk. Nor is it precisely necessary. If I ask for a gas station, I think people will get it. Nonetheless, everyone else asks for petrol, so I feel that I should as well. There may also be a cultural function to this, when I think about it. Nobody here has natural gas piped to their homes. Many Kiwi households use bottled gas to run the outdoor barbie. Others use bottled gas for heating. So you take your bottle in for refueling, and – possibly, I am not even sure about this – saying "gas" could be confused with this act, as opposed to "petrol" which is going in the car.

A lesser example of this is the common eyebrow-raiser for North American travelers – saying tomato sauce instead of ketchup. "Tomato sauce" definitely has higher recognition value, but neither are you in much danger of being misunderstood. You can ask for ketchup in a restaurant, and you will get it. There may be a slow blink as your listener makes the translation and - once you've seen that blink enough times - you may decide to save them the trouble. You make the translation for them, before you open your mouth.

At least some folks do. Others I am finding decide they will go to their graves saying ketchup. The word ketchup as cultural talisman? Which brings us back to the original question, who makes that change and who doesn't, and what does it say about you, if anything? There is no law compelling you to say tomato sauce, and there is no clear societal function to doing so.

What would you say?

During term break I went on a hard going bike ride but in the end it was worth it.The first day we couldn't make it all the way down the south island so we went about a quarter of the way down.We made it to a place called hokitika we stayed there for the night but thats not important. Lets get on to the bike trip. the first day was like a warm up day we only went 37 km.that day was fun though because we got wedges (big yummy french fries) and we stayed at a pub and had fun cup stacking there.The next day we biked up hill almost the whole time but then we got to a pub and i got a rasberry cola we spent the night there in................................................................................

THIS HAUNTED HOUSE while we were biking there we saw the famous........................................

WEDDERBURN STATION the day after that we went through a long tunnel.

This is me and my dad biking

There's me about to get spun around. This was at the Dunedin museum where we went after the bike ride.

Just when you thought it could not be done. Fritos!

We have made a grand discovery by visiting our local asian grocery store. First of all, many more brands and types of instant noodles, which are a very popular after school snack, but also Dr. Pepper and A&W root beer in the cooler, and Fritos on the dry goods shelf. At least, they look like Fritos...

Made from real mielies... ?? OK, our Fritos have traveled over from South Africa:

http://www.southafrica.info/travel/food/786386.htm

Hmmm... they're thinner than what we're used to, and covered in spices, but ummmm... quite tasty.

Not on offer here, chutney and sweet chilli flavoured

http://www.simba.co.za/brands/

Hi everyone,

I just went on camp with my class out to Totaranui in the Abel Tasman park. We had been preparing in our camp books for month. We wrote about 50 pages and hap to put titles an borders in every single one. The camp was really fun, but every day was packed to the brim. We started our trip on boat from Kaiteri beach.

Then we tramped to our homestead through the avenue and set up our bunks.

That night we slept in tents though, which wasn't that fun because I was in a tent with 3 other boys that had just eaten beans.

Th rest of the time it was a lot of activities and tramping. Our main walk was to separation point which is what these pictures are of.

The funnest thing about camp was that Friday night there was a camp concert and everyone had to participate. All the boys in my bunk didn't know what to do so we all joined together and a kid in my class called Mainaia made a spoof of the Miley Cyrus Hoedown Throwdown. We all spent ages learning it. It starts out with Manaia saying that this is an Usi-Baa Production, the MCC Hocolate Hoedown. Then we start dancing and singing the words and at the end when we've finished we go "What team?" "Usi-Baa Productions!".

I had a really fun time at camp!

Next week was when Chch South Intermediate came over for an exchange that has been going on for 35 years. I got a billet and it was really fun. These where our costumes to the 80's, Thriller themed disco. My friend Finn is the one with loads of eyeliner and the other is my billet Jak. I am the joker.

Here'a a geeky sort of post. But it is something I discovered today and, yeah, I find it sort of cool. Geek!

See, it used to be that the way MS Windows sorted numeric filenames was the order 1...11...12...2...3... You see the potential problem. I was copying a bunch of stuff between directories and trying to make sure I had everything, you know, eyeballing the two for differences, and I happened upon some 701's listed down past the 9's. Now how could that be?

OK, this has been going on for some time now, all by design. Cool. It is again safe to go outside.

http://support.microsoft.com/kb/319827

I love music. It breaks my heart that I can neither play an instrument nor carry a tune. Just the same when alone, I sing along loudly and dance without reservation.

Of all art forms, I find it the most evocative. Nothing stirs my memory like a song. Joni Mitchell will always remind of my youth, of Darlene and especially Linda Carvette. How often Linda would strum her guitar and we'd all sing along to "The Circle Game." ( ......this song is not meant for one lonely voice and "the more out of tune voices (that's me) the better." ) I can't listen to "What a Wonderful World" and not think about dancing with my father at my wedding. Steve Forbert's "You Cannot Win them All" - my anthem as a new mother juggling work, family, friends.

A favorite game of mine is the desert island disc challenge. You know, where you can only take 10 songs with you. (The BBC version only 8 songs (yikes), one book and one luxury item , plus complete works of Shakespeare and Bible). I'd actually thought it was albums, but learned, no, just songs. Anyway, my brother Mike sent me a contest link http://www.xpn.org/music-artist/885-countdown and I've finally decided to get these fuzzy thoughts down on paper.

First of all, the song exercise is much more challenging then the entire disc. Suspending all logic, I must ask myself how many times could I listen to this, which songs am I least likely to get sick of ? Should I add some classical music (even though I have limited knowledge)? Stefan Grappelli? Do I include a song because it's special to me like the "Franklet Family Theme Song" even though it's simple and repetitive (i.e Grandaddy's "Nature Anthem" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uSer4wdHvm8 ). Do I choose a song from one of my desert island cds (Citizen Cope/ Citizen Cope) even though I don't have a particular favorite. And, then there are my favorite bands/musicians - Elvis Costello, Joan Armatrading, REM, Bowie, Lyle, Cat Power. The choices, 10 is just not enough!!!!!!


Anyway, I've worked on this about two days and imagine it may need some revision before it's just right. I picked songs that I have on occasion listened to over and over again on a sitting - particularly "The Bike" and "The Little Acorn." Louis Armstrong had to stay because the song's just too beautiful to exclude (even though it makes me cry) And, I decided, yes, must include Cope and definitely a Paul Simon song because I think he's a genius.

in no particular order
1.Fruit Bats - The Little Acorn
2. Amy Correia - The Bike
3. Louis Armstrong - Wonderful World
4. Little Feat - Dixie Chicken
5. John Gorka - I'm from New Jersey
6.Paul Simon - I can't decide Julio, America, American Tune, Homeward Bound?????
7.Beth Orton - Pass in Time
8. Joni Mitchell - You Turn Me On (I'm a Radio)
9. Citizen Cope - Mandy
10. Stefan Grappelli - Making Whoppee

honorable mentions - "Willow" Joan Armatrading, "If I had a Boat "Lyle Lovett, "I believe" REM (my personal anthem), "Teach your Children" CSNY, "Rebel, Rebel" Bowie, "Hallelujah" Jeff Buckley, "My OLd School " Steely Dan, "Watching the Detectives" Elvis, "These are the Days" 10,00 maniacs, "Bohemian Rhapsody" Queen, "Three Little Birds" Bob Marley

Living in the bubble.

I tend to think of myself as living "outside" the bubble. I don't get 24/7 cable tv any more. The community here is much smaller and much less virtual. I don't for example follow all the slings and arrows of the US healthcare struggle, though it certainly does and will affect me. Heck I don't even get to watch American Idol in realtime any more, though it is just as entertaining on delayed broadcast (almost).

But the other day a friend told me I was the one living in the bubble. That's exactly what he said. "You're living in a bubble." Which gave me pause to consider. I mean, I'm sure there are places in the USA that are not permeated by the celebrity culture, by nonstop Fox/CNN, pockets where the jargon of the "death panels" and the "birthers" doesn't even register (yes, my bubble is permeable).

I suppose it is fair to say I have swapped one bubble for another. That's the way it is, no? You're in one wherever you go. Now to important things . . .

Last night was Saturday movie night, and Andrew and I went to suss out a rental. I tried a different video store but it's always the same. I can walk the aisles of the drama, comedy, thriller sections and not spy a single appropriate thing. I often spiral my way into the classics - amongst a certain age set, have they made a better family movie since Swiss Family Robinson? We eventually settled on the original Hercules, and we wound up having a double feature of the old and the new. As it turned out, the most recent Indiana Jones offering was being broadcast by NZ TV, and we had not seen it.

It's the one with the bizarre crystal alien heads, the roomful of space creatures that eventually blasts off in a mind-numbing swirl of special effects gone mad. Even Andrew - who is 8 years old and ought to be a part of the demographic for this - asked what all that alien stuff was about. That's crazy, he says (shakes head). That's not gonna happen.

I guess you could say the same thing about the reunification of old Henry Jones with the Karen Allen character at curtain close, and the jovial walking down the aisle into happily ever after. A celebration of the enduring bonds of love and family? Nah, I'm thinking if you suddenly "discover" that you have a son aged twenty or so, what that's called is kind of the opposite.

Better I think the battle with the flesh and blood minotaur. And that funky dinosaur thing that pops up under the golden fleece. For all its funkiness the hideous beast can still be slayed by Jason with the chuck of a single spear.

Wellington Zoo

These dogs are very ferocious little noobs. My dad thought they were hyenas but they weren't. I didn't cause I'm smart. I knew they weren't hyenas cause hyenas are only yellow and black. But these were yellow WHITE and black.

We got to see them eat a goat. It was a dead goat.
They eat everything in a goat except for the bones, which they probably chew on. Once they are finished eating they are little lumps in the grass until they get wild again.

But they let the alpha dog eat first, then if there's any pups they get to eat, then the adults eat. I think the pups should get to eat first, even before the alpha dog. The alpha dog should have to eat last.

- Andrew

You can take the boy out of the city...




Last weekend we did make it back to the hustle and bustle. What, ten people on the street corner waiting to cross? It's a mob I tell you.

Barbara drove with her artwork and the boys all flew over after school on Friday. That's the boat's eye view of Wellington. The rest are the boys clowning around by the beehive. B has some more pics on her facebook.

We did a day of mountain biking on the Queen Charlotte track. This is something I have really been wanting to do. The weather cooperated, we met our friendly biking drop off helpers from Sea Kayak and hit the trail. That's Matt and Alex -- still not knowing what they are in for -- at drop off at the Torea Saddle.




Cherie has her game face on. And that's still on pavement.

Yup, it was beautiful. So walking your bike uphill ;-) is not nearly so bad as you might think. That's me on the trail down, during a nice safe bit.

OK we're done. Or at least this is as far as we made it. We bailed at Te Mahia bay, after we all came of our bikes at least once, and our trek was taking about twice the optimistic predictions we started out with. At least we're all smiles and no broken bones, no? It's not that visible but there are toothmarks in my left shin from the sprocket, the pedal, lord knows what, when I hit a patch of mud and flew off into the bush.

We took two bike repair kits but what we will take next time is a people repair kit. And there will be a next time.

Scrabble and a pint of Black Mac, that's about as good as a pub outing gets. This was pre-flight speed Scrabble with our favorite tasty wedges from the Honest Lawyer. Erin, Tom and Liam touched down after island-hopping across the Pacific - great to see friends from the old world. Dean and Liam are hanging on the challenge course.

OK we've got a lot to blog about. Two sets of visitors and a trip to Wellington. So in order to get caught up I am going to try for a post a day for the next week. Nothing glamorous just the facts. First off, chopping wood with the Klinkes. Much fun was had by all, and we put my new log splitter to good use. And no one chopped off a foot. That wood stacked on the ground below our chopping stump? Yeah, that's so when the axe head deflects toward your leg you hit something else instead. And we got nice firewood.

I try not to blog too much about about NZ-this or USA-that. It's just not productive to be measuring one country against the other, ya know? Be where you're at. But I filed my NZ taxes today and because taxes have been such an annual ordeal in my life, this year was a revelation.

My first introduction was talking to an employee at the bank/post office about how I probably needed to sort this out (the tax year ended March 31) and I asked him what he did each year. He gave me a funny look. I don't have to file anything, he said. It's already calculated and there's no reason to file anything.

Not file taxes?!? Not sweat over the freaking schedule ABCDE, SE, and myriad other forms that made my 1040 into a small book?




I hit the IRD New Zealand website and there it is, that beautiful statement: "Most people who earn salary or wages pay the correct amount of tax and don't need to do anything at the end of the tax year."


Can you imagine such a thing? I used to start preparing my US taxes in early March, because I knew it would take several weekend sessions to get the thing done. The idea that you might not even need to send in a form struck me initially as fantasy-land stuff.


But you know when you look over the personal tax form, called the IR3, it is so simple - 3 tax brackets, few deductions and special cases, that it begins to make sense. Here it is, if you want to have a look.

http://www.ird.govt.nz/resources/c/2/c26b87004dbf7347bf6abf90ad5f3a80/ir3-2009.pdf

I guess what happened to me during this process, is I moved beyond the sorts of statements often made under and about US taxes, e.g. "The tax system is broken," to actually seeing what it could be like, and how it could function. So much of that stuff - from capital gains and losses to the byzantine way self-employment taxes are calculated, simply doesn't have to be done that way, or done at all.






Nonetheless, as I decided whether I needed to file at all, I had a question... about interest on a bank account. So I called the 800 number for the IRD and I was placed into a hold queue. Usually this would be cause for despair, but here's the way the system works, I got a message telling me how long the wait would be (within a 10 min window) and would I like a callback? Yes, I would, I decided. I entered my phone number, and after that amount of time, I received the help call.


The person walked me through what I needed to do and - are you ready for another shocker? - took down my interest information and entered it into the system right at that time. As it turned out, I had over-withheld taxes via the bank, and I would in fact be due a refund. They also took my bank details and it will be transferred to my account within a few days. All that on the first phone call! I have now effectively filed my taxes, along with submitting one revision handled by phone.

Now I understand the tax system has been called largely voluntary, meaning much of the information will never be checked by anyone, and it is in some doubt exactly what numbers the goverment possesses anyhow, but to take the interest paid and amounts withheld off me in a phone call, imagine that! It begins to feel like I am actually trusted to report the right thing, and that feels pretty good. And I hadn't thought about it till now, but I reckon that means that the IRD places some trust and responsibility with the person on the other end of that phone call, too.

I will close by saying that when thinking about systems, such as tax in NZ, I can find myself making arguments for the USA (or NZ) because of relative size. Oh no that only works in NZ because it's so small. That kind of thing. But I'm not going to accept that. In fact, a huge country with a huge base of taxpayers could arguably have many more resources and wherewithal to craft solutions for a problem. Isn't it the same sort of reasoning - the whole economies of scale thing - that makes us imagine Home Depot is more "efficient" than a small corner hardware store? And just so, couldn't the US run the exact same call handling software that enables polite, scheduled callbacks at an agreed upon number and future time? Couldn't we find a way to get the job done without TurboTax, a personal tax accountant, or a month of weekends stolen away to get intimate with the tax code?