Lower limb equivalent of a coma

Because Friday was gorgeous, I took the bike to Fairy Falls. Cycling down Turanga Road is always fun; then I cut across a section of bush to Mountain Road.

In the 500m from the bottom of Mountain Road to the Fairy Falls carpark, I figured out why it is called Mountain Road. I’d never noticed the gradient in the car. I’m pretty sure I broke the law of gravity several times.

After my walk, I wasn’t sure the brakes on my bike could handle the descent, so decided it was safer to carry on up Mountain Road. Over the course of the next six kilometers, I blatantly disregarded several biological laws as well as flouting more laws of physics. By the time I reached Scenic Drive, I was exploding sweat and could only wheeze. I still can’t feel my legs. They are in the lower limb equivalent of a coma.

Fairy Falls

Yesterday, New Zealand experienced ‘the worst storm in 10 years’. Newspapers issued dire warnings of power cuts and rogue winds. After battening down the house and storing outdoor furniture, I repaired to the In-Laws. As I drove to Mt Wellie, the traffic lights in Henderson pegged out.

The electricity is still down at the house, but that’s hardly anomalous Captain. We normally lose internet connectivity and/or power if the wind goes above breeze level

Auckland on better days, for example Friday

Husband shaped hole in the universe

Husband left me on Friday.

Sorry to be so megalodramatic. It’s just a three week business trip to Dubai, but I am surprised how aimless I feel. I got a bit soggy at the airport. If the floor hadn’t been dirty, I would have thrown my arms about Husband’s legs and begged him to stay.

If this all sounds pathetically codependent – hey, I’m not about to argue. In my defence, Husband and I have lived and worked together every day for the last six months. He comes grocery shopping with me and entices me into Mitre 10. Joint decisions include whether to put on another jumper. We schedule summit meetings on what to cook for dinner. So is it surprising that my universe features a great, big, silent Husband-shaped hole? Or that I’m a bit chilly?

I haven’t yet resorted to sniffing his clothes, but I have a fleece top on emergency standby. It harbours three weeks of Husband’s skin cells.

(On second thought I might put that in the wash.)

The only way I can fully express myself is via the medium of dance, which is what I did at Fairy Falls yesterday. I think this covers how I feel about my husband, whilst also conveying my longing, anguish and despair:-

Beanie

Every second day or so and depending on atmospheric conditions, Husband and I go for a walk or cycle. Over a quick mid-day snack, we consult our map of the Waitakere Ranges and choose a trail within a 20km radius.

One of the best so far is just a little up the way from us. It is a bush walk called the Goodfellow Track, which takes about an hour via Fairy Falls.

Today we needed to go into Henderson for provisions (me) and mooch around Bunnings (Husband), so we decided to do the Goodfellow Track on our way. It was a beautiful – if blood curdling – day.

“Where’s my hat?” I said to Husband.

“What hat?”

“Well, any hat; although preferably woolly or fleecy and featuring ear flaps and insulation. Ooh- and a bobble.”

Husband was unreasonably unhelpful – possibly because I was describing an imaginary hat, but still. Anyway, I struck out on Goodfellow Track without headgear.

“My head is cold,” I grumbled.

“Well, walk faster,” said Husband.

About 20 minutes along the trail – I FOUND A HAT! We crossed a stream and there, lying to one side of the track, was a lovely, warm, woolly hat in exactly my size. Well, it wasn’t that lovely at the time, because it was soaked in mud; and obviously not that warm for the same reason. But it was indeed woolly and as for size, well a head’s a head. It’ll fit, even if I have to chop holes for my ears (which admittedly might defeat the purpose).

“Look!” I exclaimed, pointing.

“What?”

“A hat! Lovely, warm and woolly in exactly my size – perfect!”

“Isn’t it a bit . . . nasty?”

“Not at all, it’ll clean up great after I pick out the leaves and pine needles and the mud and – oh, are those dead spiders? – Just a moment while I give it a little rinse in the stream.”

Me at the top of the Goodfellow Track. Auckland City in the background to the East

I fear I have a kauri tree fetish. Sorry to subject you to it, but they really are the most astonishing trees. Husband took a photo of me standing next to it to give an impression of scale. Unfortunately, after five days of farm food in Oamaru, my waistline looks about equivalent in diameter to that of the tree – so that one’s staying on the hard drive

Part of Fairy Falls – it extends further up through the bush, but I couldn’t fit it all in the photo. We usually have a quick dip, but it’s getting a bit cryogenic

What’s wrong with this photo?