DOS SUPERFLYS

10 MAY 09

As much as I love the Heather my wife is most of the time, there are a couple Heathers that have come out from time to time that terrify me. The first one of these Heather’s was Graveyard Shift Heather. I met this Heather a few years back when she was working graveyard for St. Vincent’s in Portland. During that time, she lost her spunk and fervor. It was like her personality took a vacation and left this depressed and inconsolable droid. We have since instituted a "No Graveyard Shift for Heather Policy."

Another scary Heather is Hungry Heather. This one’s a little easier to manage because I relate very well to this kind of Heather and the remedy to cure it's madness is as simple as a Sassy Pickle or a piece of candy. And I know that my version of Hungry Mike is far worse. Hungry Heather’s grumpiness and mean streak pales in comparison to what I am capable of I am sure.

But recently and due to the ridiculous inclement situation that has become our apartment, a new and frightening version of my beautiful girl has reared its ferocious head. This Heather is Cold Heather.

This kind of Heather is frantic, confused and downright miserable. Cold Heather stomps around in circles pitching minor tantrums at me as though I am somehow responsible for the extremity numbing cold that's lingering in her body. My cure yesterday was to take her out for a day hike which seemed successful. Before too long she was happy again which meant that I was happy again too!

This last week, a big Arctic storm slogged its way across the South Island and took a firm grip over the Canterbury region of New Zealand. And with it has come freezing temperatures, torrential buckets of massive cold raindrops and southerly gusts of Arctic winds that send chills racing through our paper thin walls. We are indeed well on our way into a Southern Hemisphere made winter. We are both hunkering down and getting ready for a personal version of our winter of discontent. Both literally and figuratively. And our apartment is failing miserably in keeping us warm, I've been working a job only suitable for foreigners and felons, and we still are barely managing to save enough for our next big adventure.

Oh poor us!

Yesterday, I found Heather curled up into a ball next to the oil-filled electric heater we’ve been cranking on full blast. She had her face held right up to the grills with her nose poking between two of them. It was cute and I made a joke about it but I shouldn’t have. Because moments later, she was up pacing in circles around the living room on the brink of a mental breakdown. She was repeating, “I work hard. I am a nurse. I don’t deserve to be this cold! I’m going crazy!”

Cold Heather lurks in a crouching position looking for warmth. Watch out! One wrong move and it's done time for you!!! It appears frigid conditions provoke the attack region of this otherwise beautiful creature's mind. So delicate, yet fierce is this domestic lioness.

Our flat is so poorly insulated and vented that when we wake up in the morning, the windows are covered in a thick layer of condensation. It’s like sleeping in a car without cracking the windows. Everything is damp. And it’s not just our clothing, linens and furniture; our brains are even getting damp. I swear there’s a thick layer of condensation in my head and lungs. I feel like an ear infection is at the enemy lines in my brain and I can tell by the way my left ear feels that I am in for a fierce battle for my health. When I shake my head, I can feel liquid swash around.

So needless to say, we’ve been going out much more to get out of the place. Our new popular digs have become the city public library. It’s open until 9 pm, it's free and is kept at a comfortable temperature.

Other than this current battle, we’ve both been working as much as possible to get ready to make our transition back stateside which in now officially August 2^nd!

Here are some pics from some of our recent excursions:

Looking down from the base of Mt. Herbert on the Banks Peninsula is Lyttleton Harbor and the Pacific Ocean beyond.

Trying to summit before dusk, we race slowly up Mt. Herbert.

While I frantically try to cover up the exposed areas of my body, Heathers seems to be unbothered by the numbing wind and is loving life.

What would a Mike Hike be without a little adversity?

We were trying to get to the Packhorse Hut, which is managed by the Department of Conservation, where there's bunks, a fireplace and protection from the conditions.

I underestimated the hike time and it became too dark to continue. Luckily, we found an abandoned shelter along the way. We made it home for the night and set up our tent inside.

The analogy of life that hiking constantly provides is absolutely rewarding. That being said, I hope my life fortunes are a little better than the ones I've commonly found on my Mike Hikes. But it's all the same when you learn that happiness has to do with making the most of every situation.

So with that said, we remained unphased by the change of plans and had an awesome time with our single burner stove, a $10 bottle of wine and our portable music player.

I was beyond stoked to find a rain water harvester hooked up to the back of the shelter.

The place of our one night get a way!

On the ferry boat connection back to Lyttleton from Diamond Harbor. Mt. Herbert is in the background, just above where the sail boat seems to be pointing at.