HUGE Day, and right at the top of the list of best birthdays ever.

First… Thanks for all the birthday greetings!!! Speshially for the BarryTenor Rendition of Happy Birthday (and yours Smudgie). I believe I can feel the vibes between Baltimore (and IOW)and Cambridge… at least I will be able to by the time they get here…

Second… Thanks to Fi for being my first ever blogmeet… that’s an auspicious beginning to my birthday. It was great to have a face for the name and the stories and it was actually the inspiration for the Inaugural Anzac Wibmeet…

Third… Lunch with the sisters and Ticker and Scooter (nephew – 16mo). Ticker slept through the whole event… will have to give him goodbye snuggs when I go back through Auckland on the way home.

Fourth… Family dinner at Muvvers. Chicken roast, proper Kumara and Chocolate Torte… Tooooooo Goood… but other best thing about family dinner was being world famous. Jem and Kit (Nephew 4 and Niece 7) think I am the bees knees… and who am I to argue… I have never had soooo many kisses in one day!!! Love is in the Air. It might not be romantic lurve but it is bloody marvellous… and will be hard to give up.

It’s my birthday tomorrow and as I am leaving Auckland for points south and family celebrations we adjourned to Ponsonby Road for dinner to celebrate slightly early. We being, Me, Sis, Perez, Croak, Blue and Lorry (Blue’s Husband).

Given that I am an organized soul who likes to plan ahead I had consulted A Certain Person as to suggested venues for Birthday Celebrations and was pointed in the direction of here. I chose the restaurant and made an online booking. Having received my confirmation email indicating that the plan was moving along in the right direction no suspicions were aroused as to this place being A Bad Idea…

Today I rang the restaurant and told them that the numbers would be reduced. The Person On The End of the phone was very polite, said this would be fine and advised that the menu was a bit limited this evening. Apparently there were issues with their suppliers and that not Everything on the menu would be available. Hmmm a certain indication of Trouble Afoot …”The Menu Will be A Bit Limited This Evening”. However, I felt that he implied that all would be ok.

Perez and I arrived a little early so as to be there when everyone else arrived and noticed a sign on the door of the Restaurant.

“Closing at 8pm for stocktake.”

[Jaw Dropping Awe]

The restaurant was EMPTY … One table for 6 was set … and our booking was for 7.30 and so we would have had half an hour to order and eat…

“What The?????”

Croak went inside and had a wee chat to the Maitre d’ and we did a bit of a scout to find alternate venues… All the while trying to touch base with Blue and Lorry and Sis who were coming together and due to Babysitter Issues, were running late…

Well, we decided to eat at Troy instead, given that it wasn’t too far from the Red Dog and made our way upstairs for dinner. Still mystified that the Dog never told us we would be much better to find an alternative… I think because I had booked from Australia they felt as though I wasn’t actually a legitimate booking and so weren’t actually expecting us!!!

Troy was an acceptable alternative…

After an hysterical game of spot the spelling mistakes on the menu we ordered from a variety of Turkish, Italian and New Zealand meals on offer.

The plates came piled high, the food was good (not incredible, just good) but halfway through our conversations the restaurant lights suddenly dimmed and the disco ball started a frantic turn giving the distinct impression of a UFO trying to avoid a crash landing.

The Music Started… a LOUD, Cranking rendition of “Happy Birthday to You” Sounding freakishly like some 70’s disco hits party cd.

Ghastly.

I shrank low into my chair, peeking through my fingers hoping desperately that the cake and candles coming up behind me were going to keep walking past…

The waiter in the leopard print shirt, a size or two too small, slowed down to show me the cake 2 candles… both of them the number 2.

Definitely not my cake.

A sigh of relief was expelled and on we went with dinner.

Conversation was fairly offspring heavy, Perez and I the only non-parents there but we managed well enough, Perez is a teacher and I a former nanny so I can Kidspeak with the best of them…

The bottom of the last glass of wine approaches and thoughts turn to coffee and perhaps the dessert menu and so a quick trip to the ladies is in order. This accomplished, Blue and I adjourn to back to the others. After a quick stop at the kitchen on the way to inquire of the waiter where he got his fantastic leopard shirt (here) we take our places back at the table just in time for the lights to dim…

And to clear the disco ball for take off,

Cue ’70’s party mix …

‘Happy Birthday to Dee…”

*Blush* It isn’t even my birthday today…

It’s a bit quieter, I have adjourned to the bedroom while rugby continues in the living room downstairs. The Circle of Life is playing through those perfect white earbuds and I am reflecting on the flight back into Auckland.

The indigenous people of New Zealand, the Maori, refer to themselves as the Tangata Whenua (pronounced Tounge-aah-ta Fen-ooo-wa) which I understand to mean, ‘people of the land’ or to refer to a connection they feel to the land, to Aotearoa (meaning ‘land of the long white cloud’). And as I flew into my homeland, through that very white cloud for which the early Polynesian explorers saw fit to name this country, I think I understand that connection, or at least some of it.

After 6 years of being an expatriate my heart still leaps like a dolphin as I catch that first glimpse of the glorious and rugged coast. I am sure that part of the feeling is connected to my family, but another large part is still connected to this place, to this culture, to this atmosphere. Here I am part of the whole; in Australia I am still a New Zealander living in Australia, knitted to the place by circumstances but not by a common past, not by blood and earth. I could live in Australia the rest of my life and I doubt that the connection to New Zealand could be diluted at all. I could take up Australian citizenship tomorrow and still I would be a stranger in a [very] strange land.

In spite of this connection there is the twinge of a separation that I feel, one that makes me wonder if the longer I am away and the more I assimilate to Australia, whether the New Zealand I left behind grows and changes after me, changes behind my back and actually leaves me behind.

In chosing to leave it do I actually make myself more of a stranger to my own land. Does New Zealand recognize me? Does its heart leap as it sees me arrive through those gates? I wonder if the longer I stay away does the gap between the reality and the imagination get wider? Does my sentimental and perhaps imagined connection get revealed as something not only ethereal but unreal as well? And as such do I become homeless, rootless altogether??

Who knows… But I have 2 weeks to find out.

This is a very quick post because I am chatting to my buddy, watching rugby and blogging all at once. Love being a multi tasking genius…

Anyway… Thanks for all the offers of assistance… I had to get up at 4.30 this morning to be at the airport on time… If I had tried to call you I think I would have got a very short shift…

Quick Riddle

What is green and shiny and guaranteed to make Deeleea smile?

Answer

Ha Ha … you thought the baby was green didn’t you …
He’s guaranteed to make me smile too … He’s very cute… Lil’ Sis is doing great… Ticker is lovely… I will post photos when I get my act together…

Duty Free is a Wonderful Thing…