Sally’s Insite

I have decided that this time I will blog the diary of our trip to the United States but it will not be in diary form. It will be an overview of my thoughts. I will leave it to Vern to write a day by day account.

The 12 hour flight across to San Francisco, via Air New Zealand was just as tiring as the other two times we have flown this route. Not much sleep because of the constant drone of the engines and the hustle and bustle of other passengers who don’t wish to or can’t sleep.

It took an hour to get through US Immigration and Customs because we had to have fingerprints recorded and photographs of our eyes taken. I thought I was going to have to spend the night in the Police Cells because my fingerprints wouldn’t clear from the computer. After a further delay because of this we finally made it out where Russell and Calvin were waiting for us.

Weather was fantastic – cloudless skies which we experienced the whole time we were there. The first week we spent basically recovering from jet lag and getting to know our two grandchildren. I don’t think Calvin remembered us from the last time we saw him but we soon got to know him and I think he will remember us better next time round

Russell took us on a tour of the Google Campus where he works. It was quite unbelieveable to think that here we were, visiting a Company that is a household name around the world. We had lunch at the Google Cafeteria, which is free to all Google employees. All equipment in the cafeteria is in the Google colours even the salt and pepper shakers. Lots of amenities designed to keep their employees at this company happy – massage chairs, fully equipped kitchens, doctors and the list goes on. Quite an eye-opening experience which I found really interesting.

The rest of the week we spent shopping and visiting the Valley Fair Mall (which by the way is Westfield owned). Vern bought up large by buying a telescope and an up to date GPS. I spent my share of our spending funds by paying $200 US to see a doctor and get a prescription for antibiotics for an ear infection Vern and I also did quite a bit of walking, even though I was under the weather with a virus most of the time we were away.

Second week – a planned 9 day visit up to Northern California and Oregon. The first 3 nights we spent at Redding which is sort of the gateway to the Lassen National Volcanic Park. Novey certainly picked some lovely motel/lodges for our accommodation and the Travelodge in Redding was no exception. Vern and I visited Turtle Park which we were able to walk to (we just wanted a rest from driving) while Russell and Novey went up to Shasta Lake with the children. Turtle Park is really designed for families with children with many kiddie focused themes. But it was just nice getting some exercise. The main attraction here is the Sundial Bridge which really tells the time.

Our last day in Redding – a visit to the Lassen National Volcanic Park. We all managed to squeeze into Russell and Novey’s van. Vern was quite happy that he could have a rest from the driving and was able to look around at the scenery for a change. This is a lovely scenic national park with lots and lots of little lakes, forests of spruce/larch trees (will check I have the right trees) lots of little chipmunks and other little critters we don’t see in NZ and very high volcanic mountains the highest I think is Mt Lassen. It was a very long tiring day, but I would not have missed seeing the fantastic scenery, for the world.

Goodbye Redding and California and hello Oregon and out to the Oregon Sand Dunes. A very long (6 hour plus drive) up the Interstate 5 mostly at high altitude. My ears had been playing up and were completely blocked after visiting Lassen Park but no rest for my ears today travelling at high altitude. More ear problems and to top it off another virus in the form of a head cold. But you have to grin and bear these things when you are travelling. The Oregon countryside is absolutely beautiful. I just loved it. The forests of trees and winding rivers and streams – just what you read about in the Travel books. My cold took a back seat as I just felt so in awe of the countryside travelling out to the Oregon Coast. Our accommodation on the Coast was in Florence, a picturesque fishing town situated at the mouth of a river and right in Dune country. We only spent one night here as Vern and I were more interested in travelling up the Oregon Coast while Russell and Novey wanted the Dune experience of riding in a Dune buggy and seeing the Dunes at close range.

The next morning Vern and I pottered around the ‘old’ town of Florence, photographing and souvenir shopping. We then drove up the Oregon Coast, stopping now and again to photograph the coastline and old lighthouses.

When we reached Waldport we had lunch and decided at this point that we would head back inland and up to Portland. We had arranged to meet Russell and Novey at our next accommodation in Portland. Once again we travelled through very peaceful river valleys. As we neared the Interstate 5 the peaceful mood of the countryside changed to the hustle and bustle of traffic. The relaxation that I felt up to this point changed to one of stress in having to navigate onto the extremely busy Interstate 5 and up through the City of Portland to the Apartment which was to be our home for the next 2 nights. We made it with only one wrong turn. Phew!!!

Portland seems a nice enough city but I am not a city person so one city looks just the same as another to me. I could just as well have been in Auckland. However, Vern and I did a quick walking tour to get a feel for the place – trams, nice trees, quite a nice waterfront and heaps and heaps of road works. In fact it seems we were constantly trying to get around workmen and machinery. But as we were only in the city for a couple of hours it was hard to get a real feel for the place. In the afternoon we visited Washington Park – a very well-known park in the Region, renowned for the International Test Rose Garden spread over 4.5 acres.

Absolutely magnificent. Some locals we met while walking here recommended we have a look around the Memorial to the Holocaust. Vern found this Memorial extremely interesting, but I felt quite moved and sad at the sight of abandoned teddy bears, suitcases, dolls which had been recreated from metal and looked so realistic. I just wanted to go and bury my head in the sand and pretend that nothing of this ever existed.

Farewell Portland. It was also farewell for a few days to Russell and Novey, Calvin and Owen. Novey had decided to fly back from Portland with Calvin and Owen because the travel was getting too much for two little boys. Russell drove the van back to Santa Clara (a 12 hour trip). Vern and I had decided to travel along the Columbia River Gorge and then down to Bend which is a small city at high altitude surrounded by desert. I was a wee bit disappointed with the drive along the Columbia River Gorge. I think after reading the glowing reports in the Lonely Planet about how scenic this area was I expected more of a tranquil riverside drive. But it turned into a main highway drive. We did manage to find some vista areas to view the vastness of the Columbia River so in a way this compensated for my initial disappointment.

Now, down through high altitude deserty countryside and Bend passing Mt Hood on the way.

Vern’s ears were now a problem and by this time mine were just about normal. I found that with a cold it was quite hard to breathe at high altitude and when we walked into Bend shopping area I just could not hack the pace. I struggled to keep up with Vern and was just relieved to get back to our motel. I also had the same problem when we were in the Lassen Volcanic Park.

Next day a 60 mile drive to Crater Lake and with a $10 note in my hot little hand ready to hand over to the man in the booth at the entrance to Crater Lake National Park we got a pleasant surprise. He told us that as it was National Parks Founders Day, all National Parks had free entry for this day. What a bonus this was as Crater Lake was absolutely awesome. There were 30 stopping areas around the rim of the lake. Everything was so well maintained and not a piece of rubbish to be seen. Magnificent views from every vantage point - it’s the deepest lake in the USA. The deep blue of the water has to be seen to be believed. I’ve never seen such a rich blue body of water before.

The main focus for the tourists was the Information and Tourist Centre which we happened to arrive at around lunchtime. Hundreds of people had congregated here for lunch, souvenir shopping and it was also a first view for many of the Crater Lake. We decided to buy some takeaway food and found a lovely little spot further down the mountain to eat in peace. Next stop – down to Medford which for us was just a convenient place to stop for the night.

As we were up nice and early we decided to visit Jacksonville, a nice little historic town about 15 minutes away. And nice and early we were because when we arrived in Jacksonville not a person to be seen except the local Fire Brigade setting up a road block to elicit money from passing motorists for a community children’s cause (have now forgotten what it was). We walked the deserted streets and through a park where a mother deer and her two babies were wandering. Managed to photograph them even though they were very flighty.

Nothing much was happening in this sleepy little town so tackled the road block and gave the firemen all our coins. Ashland was planned to be our next stop as the Lonely Planet had very nice things to say about this little city. It is home to the Internationally renowned Oregan Shakespeare Festival which was in full swing while we were there. Had a look through the replica Globe Theatre and the Souvenir shop which contained souvenirs, all with a Shakespearian theme. We both really enjoyed our little sojourn in Ashland and wished we could’ve spent more time there.

But time to get onto the Interstate 5 again and down to Redding where we stayed at the Travelodge again. Next day, Interstate 5 again and back to Russell and Novey’s house.

The last few days in Santa Clara were spent doing last minute shopping and wondering how we were going to pack our suitcases so that everything would fit in.

Our departure day arrived so it was goodbye to Russell, Novey, Calvin and Owen and goodbye to hot, cloudless days and a wonderful stay in the United States.

This was written without reference to any diary entries so I stand to be corrected on some of the above information.

Place names that we found quite unusual for names of places were -

Bend, Weed and Winters

It is very curious to me how, as an adult, I forget from one year to the next what I got for Xmas the previous year but I have very vivid memories of what I was given when I was a child.

My most memorable Xmas present believe it or not was a Kewpie doll. My sister, Jocelyn, also got a Kewpie doll exactly the same as mine. We played with them for hours, days and weeks. We played with them so much that they eventually, after a few years, broke and had to be thrown out. My mum made clothes for them and we treated them as our babies.

When I was a stay-at-home mum with Russell and Raewyn, Jocelyn and I decided to go to ceramic doll making classes. Guess what doll I chose to make first? Yes, a Kewpie doll. It now has pride of place on my lounge bookcase. I wonder what my grandchildren will think of my Kewpie doll.

My Ceramic Kewpie Doll

My very first memory of Xmas was of reindeer clomping across our roof and Santa’s sleigh making such a loud noise as it slid across the corrugated iron that it woke me up. Santa didn’t seem to care how much noise he made when he came down our chimney. But I was quite excited when I heard all this commotion during the night. I knew that he was going to leave us some exciting presents at the end of our beds so I pretended that I was asleep. We lived on a farm at Kumeu - a rural area just a few kilometres north west of where we now live. Xmas was such an exciting time of the year. When I was 8 we moved house to Orewa, just north of Auckland. Santa seemed to know, somehow, that we had shifted house because every Xmas his reindeer would make that familiar sound on our roof. The presents would be left at the end of our beds.

Xmas is so special when you are a child. That make-believe time when you are a child stays with you for the rest of your life. You always look back to that time of your life and sometimes wish that just once more you could relive those happy, carefree days - just once more.

Vern and I, as parents, carried on the Santa and his reindeer tradition with Russell and Raewyn. I could see how excited they also became as Xmas approached. ” How many more sleeps until Santa comes?” they would ask. They would leave Santa a glass of beer and some food. Just the same as I did when I was their age. Santa would leave their Xmas presents under the Xmas tree, however. But how Santa got down our chimney was a bit of a puzzle as it was much too small for a chubby Santa. But I think he came through our front door because Vern and I would leave it unlocked especially for Santa to come through on Xmas Eve.

As our family got older Xmas Day changed to one of exchanging presents with our family and our extended family. Xmas Day changed to a day of catching up with my sisters and their children, eating lots of food and blobbing out for the afternoon.

As you age, Xmas does not have that same excitement. In fact Xmas can be extremely stressful for many of us. So much happening in the weeks leading up to Xmas. For some families Xmas can be awfully lonely if their families live far away.

Vern and I are now entering a new Xmas time era as we now have grandchildren. It will be interesting to see if Russell and Raewyn follow the ‘Santa and his reindeer make-believe years’ with their children. I hope so as my memories of my childhood at Xmas time were just so special.

On Labour Weekend 2006 Orewa College celebrated their 50th year of being an educational institution by inviting all past pupils to a reunion. I was a foundation pupil and decided to attend the Saturday function which consisted of having your photograph taken together with your fellow foundation classmates.

I just couldn’t believe, after catching up with some of them, that it has actually been 50 years since we were all the quite niave 11 and 12 year olds who used to hang around this very same school, trying to act all grown up, but in reality we were so immature. The boys seemed to belong to a different race. To talk to the boys or have any sort of interaction at all with them was a real no no and any girl who did was seen as quite promiscuous. Meeting these same boys today (we are all in our early 60s now) you just wondered why there seemed to be this insurmountable gap between the sexes. All the men on Saturday, without exception, were so nice and so interested in what had been happening in our lives and in turn I was also interested in what they had been doing in the past 50 years. All of us, the foundation pupils, seemed to have this bond, knowing that we were the trail blazers for the up and coming students who were to follow us.

We all spent the morning together perusing the old photos which were on display, and exchanging our 1956 experiences of a school without a swimming pool (we had to tramp to Orewa Beach for swimming lessons). The time when we were warned there was a tsunami approaching from South America. We were assigned a new entrant child to look after and we made our way to the highest hill in Orewa and waited, and waited, and waited. But guess what? No tsunami ever arrived.

While leafing through one of the first school magazines I was absolutely amazed to see a story which I had written in Form 2. Also in another magazine another story which I had written in F3. I have this very vivid memory of actually hating writing made up stories in my days at school. I managed to photograph both stories which are included in this posting. But as you will see one of them has the left side missing. Never mind I was just so chuffed to see a story I had written 50 years ago.

An observation I did make on Saturday was that the girls of 1956 had changed and were not recognisable unless you read their name tags, whereas the boys of 1956 were easily recognisable.

Next reunion will probably be in 10 years time. What will we all look like when we are 70?

This is Pam who started Orewa College with me. Both of us were foundation pupils. Pam and I have always been, and still are, good friends. We both left school in 1960 and went on to the Auckland Business College together. We have exchanged Xmas cards and Birthday cards every year for the past 50 years. Now and again we get together to have a catch up.

Managed to get a photo of a small group of us while we were looking at all the old photos. I will post the official photo when I have received a copy of it.

My Masterpieces

I have found that Instant Messenging is a great way to communicate on the net - as the name suggests, you get instant feedback. But why do some people not treat it like having a face to face conversation? Why can’t you take turns at talking? When you ask a question why doesn’t the other person wait and then answer your question? I have found that people seem to get so caught up in what they want to say it appears they are not a bit interested in what you are saying. Questions don’t get answered, subjects are changed without the other person realising it. In a face to face conversation you surely would take turns to talk and if you asked a question it would be answered immediately. Don’t tell me “we don’t have time to take turns because we are all so busy doing other things at the same time”. I don’t go along with this at all.

I do like Instant Messenging but surely it could be made more user friendly by people treating it more like a face to face conversation.

I am quite puzzled as to why most people insist on using either a smiley or an emoticon as a regular part of their emails (and IM). The theory is that emoticons are supposed to be a replacement for facial expression lacking in text only communciation. But I have discovered that the can express three different emotions - happiness, sarcasm or a joke. That defeats the purpose in my view.

If you write the way you talk surely you would not need to use an emoticon as confirmation of how you are feeling. Written communication IS different from oral communication, but writing often helps the thinking and makes things clearer. So the fact that something is written is no excuse for not being able to express emotion. If you write the way you think and talk there’s no need for emoticons.

Emoticons also seem to be a generational quirk. It’s ‘cool’ to use emoticons. If your friends use emoticons, you have to use them too. In my opinion this is internet peer pressure.

How did we get on in the days before email when we wrote letters to people? Did we sprinkle emoticons throughout our writing to show people how we were feeling? No, we wrote as if we were actually talking to them. There were no mixed messages to my knowledge.

Emoticons, in my opinion, make email writers lazy. They think if they end their sentences with an emoticon they dont have to worry too much about how they have written an email. Perhaps the email smiley face has done more to degrade our wirtten communication than to improve it. We dont need to be told that a jokes a joke with a smiley emoticon. It spoils the joke. If you are writing happy words we know you are happy.

So, out with the smiley and emoticon and in with more emotion in the words we use when writing emails or using IM.

I will bookmark this for Vern to write about his parents.

I found it quite an emotional journey for me writing about my mum and dad and how it affected me. I shed lots of tears but I felt that I should write in this way. I have always wondered whether other eldest children in a family feel as I do. Always having to protect, support and feeling that you have to be the strong one. Always the one in charge of a situation. This even extends to being in charge of situations which are not family related.

Is this just a personality thing or an eldest child concept?

I am going to devote this section to relationships. I will focus on my relationship with my parents as a first step. Vern will then do the same with his parents. I think the relationships we have or have had with our parents probably images the relationships we have with our children and our husbands and wives.

In my opinion if you are the eldest child in a family you would have a different relationship with your parents than if you were a middle or youngest child. I am the eldest child and have two younger sisters.

My Relationship with Mum
I have always felt that the bond I had with my mother was an extremely close one. My mother and I had very similar personalities. We did not express our love for one another in words. We just knew there was something special between us. Just a look between us and we knew exactly what the other person was thinking. I liken this bond to the one that exists between twins. We did not need to say ” I love you” as reassurance. We just knew it was that way. My hurt was her hurt. My problems were her problems. My achievements were her achievements. When my mum was not well, I also suffered. If she had a problem then this was my problem too. When she was happy, then I was happy. We both had the same quirky, playful sense of humour which still exists with me to this day.

My Relationship with Dad
The relationship with my father was completely different however. Emotionally he was quite distant and he found it difficult to show any feelings towards his family. I know that he did care about us all but he just couldnt show it. However, I was the one he confided in if there was a problem. I was the one he looked to for help when things were not going well. Being the eldest child I felt a great responsibility to help him when he needed help. Sometimes this burden of being the eldest child completely overwhelmed me. I sometimes said to myself “I can’t handle this problem. Can you go and consult someone else”. But I couldnt let him down. Somehow I managed to do the best I could for him.

Death of a Parent
1986 was nearly the death of me as a person. My mum was diagnosed with terminal cancer. She was only 69 - far too young to die. My Nana (her mum) had lived to the ripe old age of 89. When I was told by my dad that she only had a few months to live I cried all that night. I would doze off and suddenly wake with tears rolling down my cheeks. She had told dad not to tell us, his daughters, because she did not want us to worry about her. That was how my mum was. I wanted my mum to live forever. The next few months were just a blur for me. I was going to lose someone who had always been in my life - someone who I could confide in and still, even when I was an adult, look after me and care for me. As I was the eldest daughter I carried this enormous burden of somehow having to be in charge. I also wanted to protect my sisters from the great sorrow that they also felt. I had a family to look after, I had a dad who needed support and I had a mum who needed me more than ever.

During the last weeks of her life she would give me that “I love you” look, but also a look of “please help me”. She never, ever complained or told us how rotten she was feeling. She just took everything that life was dishing up to her. I hoped and prayed that the end would be quick. I could not bear to see her suffering. Finally the end did come with us, her family, sitting beside her bed. My sisters gave her a last kiss, but that was not my mum now. In my eyes she had disappeared. I didnt know where to but she had disappeared. I could not give her a last kiss because this was not my mum.

Depression
Over the next few months I felt, as the eldest daughter, the need to look after my dad. He was suffering this great loss of his wife. His health deteriorated and the family decided he should have resthome care as he was not looking after himself. He also did not get over the loss of his wife and our mum. During this time I suffered from acute clinical depression and just could not climb out of the deep dark hole that I had fallen into. I was constantly crying for my mum. Dad was also extremely unhappy. Life for me during this time was more than I could bear. I sometimes wished that it would all end. But I knew that I had to be here for my family. My family were everything to me and I couldnt let them down.

My dad died 4 years after my mum. He did, however, die a peaceful death. His death did not have the same effect on me as my mum’s death. Dad died peacefully, but mum died in pain. Even today I feel I did not do enough to lessen the pain my mum felt in the weeks leading up to her death.

Over the next couple of years I did gradually climb out of the deep dark hole. I am now a much stronger person than I ever was and have put in place my own strategies for dealing with grief and sadness. I am also now extremely interested in mental health issues. I have been there and survived.