I have to admit to being a little biased about my wedding. It was 11 years ago today that I got married to Robin. We had an old-fashioned courtship and a 7 month engagement and we've had 11 years of happy marriage so far. We've had our own little tragedies and struggles of life to cope with along the way, but I have to say that marriage has been easy and one of the deepest joys of my life.
When I got married my parents were in full-time ministry, so there was not much money to splurge on a huge wedding, and I was the first to get married. I had some money put aside which I used to pay for my own wedding dress and a few other things. I had grand ideas, but these had to fit within the confines of a tight budget. But somehow, in spite of these constraints our wedding came off very nicely. In fact, one of my sister-in-law's called it the 'grand wedding', and it was grand. We had a beautiful setting at my husband's old private school in Auckland. After the old cathedral in central Auckland, I think it is the second most beautiful place to get married in. It is used for a lot of the Auckland society weddings. A lovely old chapel which was built to model the original Kings College Chapel in England. It had a nice long aisle up the centre too (very important) :o)
We were able to invite over 200 guests - a large wedding for New Zealand standards. My husband's sister gave us a wedding gift of the beautiful stately cars that carried me and my bridal party across the city to the church. The car that I rode in had once carried the Queen of England when she visited New Zealand.
We were married at 1pm on a Saturday afternoon - a warm Spring day in Auckland city. I had 4 bridesmaids and 7 children as flowergirls, pageboys and a ringbearer. I came down the aisle to the organ playing Handel's Royal Fireworks, and we left the chapel to the sounds of the old hymn, "Jerusalem" (the same one played on the movie Chariots of Fire). My sister (a soprano) sang Holy Art Thou during the service. My father ( a minister at the time) married us, and my old friend and employer, Bill Gothard came all the way out from the USA to give the address and a blessing.
We were blessed indeed - God worked out every little detail of our ceremony and the reception. Deuteronomy 6 was the reading we had at our service - slightly unusual at a wedding when it is usually the love chapter or something similar, but Robin felt strongly that this passage of Scripture was our gift and creed from God for our marriage and life together. It is a beautiful, sobering, challenging passage.
I look back over these 11 years to that day today, and remember so many of the little details and the little joys and pleasures of a happy day, and the beginnings of a happy marriage, and I am grateful to God for His blessing. We tried to honour God in all the little details of our courtship, engagement, wedding. And I can say that it is worth the constraints, worth laying aside the temptations even in seemingly insignificant things, to start it right and get it right and the blessing that flows from that through the years of union.
Here are a few photos from our special day. I hope you enjoy looking at them. I start with this one of me and my father arriving at the chapel.
Here is my bridal party. My sister Penny on the far left, friend Angie, friend Paula from the USA (who is due to have her first baby today)! And my childhood friend Kim. The flowergirls are friend Damarus, neice Amy and friend Phoebe. I saw Damarus and Phoebe just a few weeks ago, and they are now in their late teens and beautiful young ladies!
The boys (from left) are: friends, Evan, David; nephew Thomas, and the ringbearer friend Josiah.
It was truly a delight to have so many children as part of our wedding party.
Robin's groomsmen
From left: my cousin Andrew, a minister, who took the service until my father gave me away; Robin, his bestman-brother Jeff, longtime friend Ben from the UK, my brother Roy, friend Nigel
Exchanging of vows (and yes, I said 'to obey') ;o) We used the old English wedding service format (the same one used on the 1995 tv series of Pride and Prejudice - beautiful language)!
Leaving the church now married.
The entire wedding party with Bill Gothard
My family with my grandparents who have since gone Home to Heaven. I have my Nana's outfit and hat hanging in my wardrobe.
Robin was the last of his 5 brothers and 1 sister to get married, and so I became an instant aunty on my wedding day. Two of these children are now married and quite a few more cousins have since been added to the crowd. Two of my sister-in-law's were pregnant at the time of our wedding.
Leaving the church. I love this photo for the way it shows my dress, which was Thai silk.
And here we are leaving our reception for our honeymoon. My dress came from the USA, which my sister chose for me. We flew out the next morning to Queenstown ( a resort town in New Zealand) for 2 weeks.
Deuteronomy 6
"Now these are the commandments, the statutes, and the judgments, which the Lord your God commanded to teach you, that ye might do them in the land whither ye go to possess it:
That thou mightest fear the Lord thy God, to keep all his statutes and his commandments, which I command thee, thou, and thy son, and thy son's son, all the days of thy life, and that thy days may be prolonged.
Hear therefore, O Israel, and observe to do it; that it may be well with thee, and that ye may increase mightily, as the Lord God of thy fathers hath promised thee, in the land that floweth with milk and honey.
Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God is one Lord:
And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might,
And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart:
And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up.
And thou shalt bind them for a sign upon thine hand, and they shall be as frontlets between thine eyes.
And thou shalt write them upon the posts of thy house, and on thy gates.
And it shall be, when the Lord thy God shall have brought thee into the land which he sware unto fathers, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, to give thee great and goodly cities, which thou buildedst not,
And houses full of all good things, which thou filledst not, and wells digged, which thou diggedst not, vineyards and olive trees, which thou plantedst not; when thou shalt have eaten and be full;
Then beware lest thou forget the Lord, which brought thee forth out of the land of Egypt, from the house of bondage.
Thou shalt fear the Lord thy God, and serve him, and shalt swear by his name."
I have a Great Aunt who is 92 years old. She's the last surviving member of my grandmother's family. The secret to her longevity is her love of life, love of Jesus and her curiosity about life and about everyone else. I wish I had a photo to share of her - she is still slim and blonde (I think with a little help), and attractive and looks 82, not 92.
Last night my mother rang up with a story to tell me. She'd just been talking to Aunty Grace on the phone. Aunty Grace lives by herself in the city of Auckland. She still drives and cooks for herself. I will repeat the conversation that my mother repeated to me. It was about 8pm at night and apparently, according to the weather report, torrential rain had been pouring down all day in Auckland.
AG: "Hello dear. I've just gotten home. I drove out to see a friend. And as I was coming home, I felt like eating one of those hamburgers. You know. So I stopped at that place where you get hamburgers. What's it called again? Oh, you know the place......."
Mum: "Do you mean McDonalds?"
AG: "Yes, that's it. Ohhh, and I did enjoy it. And I had one of their apple fritters as well. There weren't many people in there at that time of the night, but I did see a young Fijiian-looking lady sitting by herself, so I went and sat with her. She told me she was feeling lonely and missing her mother. I asked her if she had a boyfriend, and she said no she didn't - that her husband had left her for another woman, leaving her to raise a little child, and she was finding it very hard. I said to her, 'oh darlin' - you need Jesus! ... Now, on Sunday night, you go over there across the road - there's a very nice church there with lots of friendly people who love Jesus, lots of people from Fiji and India and other places go there, and they'll help you."
Knowing Aunty Grace, she probably said a lot more than this, but my mother and I were in fits of laughter, because this is Aunty Grace to a tee. We used to love going shopping with her when we were younger, because it was always an experience. She never paid full price, always told people about Jesus, and if you got to stop in a cafe or restaurant it was all the more entertaining. I remember one time where she was not satisfied with the cup of tea the waitress brought her, so she got up and went behind the counter and made a fresh one herself - not caring that she actually wasn't supposed to be there. She seems to have no fear of people or what people think of her - that is something to be envious of.
I just love the fact that on this night she was out driving her car, in the pouring rain, after dark, in a busy city, ordering McDonalds and dining with strangers.... at 92!
I tuned into You Tube and typed in Barry Smith. We grew up with the Smith's in Marlborough. They went to our church and we travelled with them on ministry trips. We had such fun times out at their house - big cook ups and bonfires and swims and games and lovely, lovely times. When I was in my late teens I took a small group of my friends for a visit and Uncle Barry gave us a great time. He told us we had to do some work first (clearing the 'old man's beard' which had taken over a tree, and baking some peanut brownies for Aunty May - which I burned, so I had to make a second batch), and then he took us out for the day on the boat for a picnic and doughnut rides with him and Aunty May and Debbie. Lots of good memories.
Anyway...... today I listened to his message The Role of the Wifeand Mother, from his series on the Christian Family. It's soooo good. I thought I'd post the link here in case you have some quiet time while doing the ironing or something. I'm sure most of the ladies here will enjoy it. It's very entertaining - he gives lots of stories and it's very practical. It has been posted in 10 parts. It starts off with a group of young men singing and then he starts his message. I think Part 2b is missing, but you won't find it interferes too much with the message.
He also has a really great one on the role of the christian husband.
His ministry impacted on my life incredibly, as he took my father under his wing and 'mentored' him, (though I hate to use that word.
Well, one thing he says during this message is advising the wife not to refer to her husband as 'the hubby.' He also talks about not calling each other 'the old man' or the 'old woman'.
I have had an aversion to this term all my life. I guess all those times I sat in on Uncle Barry's preaching on this topic rubbed off, and my own mother has never used this term either. It does sound disrespectful to me, and I prefer to use his name or 'my husband'. Sounds so much better than 'hubby.'
Uncle Barry was one of the most dearest, kindest, most genuine people you could ever have met, and he was lots of fun. He went home to be with the Lord in June, 2002 while preaching in England. He is mostly known for his preaching on end time topics, and I like to think that his death before so many of these events occured was similar to God allowing Moses to see the Promised Land, but not letting him into the Promised Land. I don't know if I'm right, but I like to think of it like that.
She and my father are at present in Rome, Italy - halfway through their European tour. They have spent their lives in ministry and travelling the world to various places - a lot of the time staying in squalor or very basic accommodations. This is the first 'holiday' they've ever had abroad that hasn't involved official ministry work.
We are enjoying 'following' them on tour, and Mum is great at sending postcards. Today we got a nice big envelope from London with postcards and tourist brochures. I've spent a happy half hour reading every single word in the brochure she sent from their tour of Kensington Palace. I would so love to go to England. I just love English history and royal history and English literature, and I guess a part of this interest stems from the fact that some of my own history lies in England. Except for one marriage to a native New Zealander (Maori) in 1810, all of my ancestors are either from Scotland or England, arriving here in the mid 1800's.
Mum said in her postcard that Queen Victoria was raised in Kensington Palace and they saw the bed she was woken up in to tell her that she would be Queen. So many Kings and Queens lived and died there, I would thrill to see the walls and the ceilings and the halls and floors, and imagine those old days gone and the people who walked them, and lived in them and the impact they have had on our world, and the tragedy and the glory and the interesting little details in their lives. Why did Queen Anne fall out with the Duchess of Marlborough, and why was it a stormy end? That is what I am going to try and find out today. Thank you google!
They went to Windsor Castle to see Queen Mary's Dollshouse, and after Europe they're going to visit Beatrix Potter country, and also see James Herriot's territory. Mum sends us short texts from the places they're visiting, such as from Austria:
"had a horse and carriage ride to lunch today. Very charming."
or from Switzerland, "bought H a swiss army knife, and M a Heidi doll today."
or from Venice, Italy, "Having a lovely time shopping in Venice. Wish I were rich. Beautiful, magical place."
If I could get over my hatred and fear of flying, I would jump on a plane today and go over there. But I was thinking about that and realize that I am a true child of my generation. If I want something now, then I must get that something now. It is a very hard habit to break. I am trying to learn to live a new way - to save my money, to be content with what I have and where I am, to enjoy the simple things in life.
My parents have always wanted to go to England - always. And they have waited until they had the time, and the means to do it - waiting until their responsibilities to their family were largely over. I know, that unless the Lord makes a way in the next ten years or so, that I will have to wait until I am in my retirement years as well. My grandparents did this, my parents did this, and I will probably do this as well. But my human nature wants to do it now. What if I can't do it when I'm old? What if the world is a different place then and travel is difficult? What if...... the lists go on. I can't see into the future anymore than anyone else can, but I am learning to be content; to enjoy the travel through the eyes of others and to wait patiently for my turn, and to be content if it doesn't happen either. My paternal grandmother never left the South Island of New Zealand once throughout her life, except for when she was 79 years old, she got on a plane and flew one hour up to us in Auckland. I can learn from her - if she is content to stay in one place for that long, I can be content to stay home too if that is needed. I am blessed to have travelled much of the world already, and I am learning to find the thrill in the everyday familiar things of a little piece of rural land in north canterbury, surrounded by beautiful mountains and hills and glorious plains and a wide open sea, in my husband and my interesting children and the large blue sky that stretches above us.
I guess I can wait for the glories and majesties, and the thrills of England.
To celebrate my 100th post I'm having a little giveaway.
I would love to have had a few more things to give away with this, but I have not been out of the house in about 5 weeks due to chronic morning sickness - but I hope whoever wins this will enjoy it. All you have to do is leave a comment with your name and some way in which I can get hold of you if you win.
I'm giving away a signed copy of my first children's picture book, "A Day on Grandad's Boat." It was launched in August 2007 and has received some very favourable reviews in various NZ newspapers and magazines. It is set in my favourite part of the world, the beautiful and remote Marlborough Sounds and is a simple story of a boy spending a day with his grandfather and two dogs on Grandad's boat. It is a story taken straight from my childhood. It is easy enough for a young reader to read, but is also a good book for a parent to read to a child. We also have lots of grandparents buying it to give to their grandchildren.
The illustrations (by local artist June Pearson), are colourful and realistic and many people have commented on how they feel like they are on the boat with 'William' and Grandad. If you like innocent, wholesome storybooks, then you'll like this one. It has a touch of kiwi nostalgia from the golden years in New Zealand, and people seem to like that. If you've never been to New Zealand, it will give you a taste of our lifestyle here. If you already have the book, I hope you will still enter - it makes a great gift to give someone!
In keeping with the New Zealand theme, I am also including an oven mitt which has a map of New Zealand and pictures of some native flowers.
Also, if any kiwi's enter and win, I will include a handful of my treasured heritage Purple Pod Bean seeds which have been organically grown and are very prolific.
New Zealand is small. It really is. Only about 4 million people, and back when I was 16 there were only 3 million. There's a good chance that the people I write about may get to read this, but I doubt it, so that's why I feel quite safe in telling these stories, and besides that, my last name has changed, so they could never be really sure, could they?.
Just at the moment, I am bed-rid with morning sickness, so I have a lot of time to think, reminisce and write - if I feel like it.
First of all, I want you all to know that I am madly, deeply in love with my husband. He is the love of my life and there's no other for me. I'm just recording, for posterity's sake, some of the more funnier stories from my youth.
I actually don't think dating is the best way to go about finding a life partner. I speak from experience on this. I dated numerous guys (on a superficial level) before I heard about courtship. Dating is hurtful and it gives you insecurities later in life, so my number one piece of advice on this is - don't do dating - courtship works and is better. No matter what people say - you do form emotional ties through dating and it is cruel and leaves long-lasting scars.
However, having said that - the fact that I dated many times has given me lots of fodder for funny stories, because I was just out to entertain myself with the poor hapless guys. I liked their company - some of them were really fantastic people - but I was never serious in any way and just liked getting all the restaurant food, the flowers, the gifts, oh, and the love letters were hillarious! The one guy I cared about then, I had dated on and off for 8 years, and it took me that long to realize he didn't love me enough.
But, if you'll believe me, it was all unconsciously done - it's only now when I'm older that I realize what was going on. I was quite an innocent with big eyes and a sweet smile and I was quiet and for some reason the boys liked that.
Now I've got all that out of the way, I have to tell you about the first time I got a Valentine's Day present.
I was 14 years old and we went to a good church with a medium-sized youth group (dangerous places are youth groups) and there was a nice boy there called Michael. He was cute and popular and came from quite a wealthy family and was an A student. He was kind and loved the Lord. He was (from memory) a year or two older than me. My parents knew him quite well through church, which I guess explains why they allowed me to go out with him on a date. But that wasn't until I was about 15.
On Valentines Day I happened to be walking down our driveway to get the mail, and I saw Michael's car driving out of our little cul-de-sac street where we lived at the end. I was kinda puzzled that he didn't call in or anything. I opened up the letterbox and there was an unstamped, hand-delivered envelope in there with my name on it. I opened it up and out fell a little green and silver striped address book. On the inside leaf were the words, "Happy Valentines Day from a secret admirer".
Ok - I was kind of pleased - but if you don't mind me saying..... that was a dumb Valentines Day present to give! An address book! And a really small one at that too.
Some weeks later he asked me if I got anything for Valentines Day. "Oh, yes I did" says I. I got an address book, but I don't know who it came from."
He never said anything!!
Fastforward a year or so and Michael finally gets up the courage to ask me out - to a Bible Study (yep)! He calls by to pick me up... and this is where it gets funny. I have introduced this guy to you and you should know by now that he is really, very very shy. I mean an address book as a romantic gift, and a first date at a Bible Study!!
At the time we had my father's cousin and his wife visiting with us. Trevor and Kay. Some of the nicest people in the world - we love them. They have spent their lives being missionaries in some very strange places. Trevor is one of the funniest relatives we have. Mostly my extended family are very respectable and serious and extremely sensible people, but Trevor is the leaven in the lump - in fact we have split our sides over some of his stories and antics. He's just plain hillarious at times.
Well, Michael knocks on the door, and we let him in. He stands nervously just inside the door (which opened into our living room) passing the time of day with my family. Trevor is sitting right next to him and leans over and looks him in the eye.
"Are you the boy that's taking Rachel out tonight? What is your full name son?" All serious now.
"Ah, Michael ------ ------- "
"How old are you, Michael?" says Trevor
"17"
"Hmmmm. Did you pass School Cert?"
"Yes."
"What do you do for a job"
Michael answered with great technical detail, but I don't remember what he said, or where he worked at the time.
"Have you been married before?" !!!!
"Ah. No"
"At what age do you think is a good time to get married?"
You could see the poor guy was getting as red as a beet. I was actually enjoying myself. Once Trevor got going, it could be really funny.
"What time are you bringing Rachel home tonight?"
He answered.
"Let me just check that our watches say the same thing. Ok. Good. Have you got a current license? Good. You don't drink and drive do you? Good. That's good. What do you plan to do with your life?"
This took some time to answer.
Michael said that we better get going.
"Ah, Michael" says Trevor, "do you have a phone number for this place where you're going? I'd be obliged if you would leave it with me."
We finally got out the door - went to the Bible Study. Michael hardly spoke to me the entire night. He got me home in good time though, and Trevor greeted me with a laugh. When we all stopped laughing Trevor told me he'd never forgive himself if I never got married.
Everytime I saw Trevor after this time, he always bought up that night and said he hoped that I would get married one day, or he'd never forgive himself. I guess he must have felt some relief when I married about 12 years later - to someone else!
By-the-way, Michael never asked me out again after that night. But shortly after our date, he got a perm to his blonde hair.....
and I'm afraid he'd never have had a chance with me after that!
Last night we watched the late news. We never get to watch the 6 o'clock news because we're either busy with dinner or bathing the kids, or cleanup. So we catch up later on - sometimes. Well, we saw the news about the terrible time they're having in Burma (Myanmar), and suddenly one of our kiwi reporters is speaking to us from Mae Sot. Here is the link from our news if you watch it, you get to hear the kiwi accent. :o).
"I've been there. I've been there", I yell at Robin pointing at the tv. There's the river between Thailand and Burma, where I bought my ring."
Sometimes I don't think Robin believes half of my stories I tell him from my youth. I'm a quiet, boring, don't like going out at night, afraid of flying, slightly paranoid person now, so these exciting stories from years ago probably don't seem to him to add up somehow - he didn't meet me until I had become boring, but I swear they are all true as true, and they're not embellished either.
When I said I'd been to Mae Sot, he says, "oh, is this another one of those stories, like the guy who jumped off a boat in Indonesia because you wouldn't marry him?"
I had to roll my eyes. "No", I shrieked (mostly with laughter). "first of all he didn't jump off the boat, he just threw his wallet off the boat, and told me it had accidentally fallen out. At the time when it happened I said to the guy, "oh no, what about your passport (he was an Australian), and he said that fortunately he'd taken his passport out earlier in the day. I was so naive and innocent, I never clicked until days later when he 'confesses' in front of everyone (we were travelling in a group), that he threw his wallet overboard because he wanted to get attention from me. (As if that would work... sometimes guys, especially guys like that, are stupid)!! So somewhere in between Borneo and Sulawesi there is a black leather wallet at the bottom of the sea, and it's all my fault.
But back to Mae Sot - I went there with a small group taking medical supplies and provisions to the many, many refugee camps that are on the Thai/Burmese border. I was only 15 at the time, travelling with my parents and a group of about 8. We had driven in a crowded bus overnight from Bangkok up to Mae Sot. In the middle of the night ,with our supposed 'guide' who was supposed to be Thai, but actually turned out to be Philipino and hardly spoke a word of Thai, travelling with us, the bus stops and we all wake up suddenly. I was sitting with my sister and my little brother, who was about 10, was with our 'guide'. These big men - about 4 of them climb up into the bus and start slowly walking down the aisle of the bus, checking every single person in the seats. I don't know why, but our 'guide' threw a towel over my brother's head, and told the men he was asleep (which he wasn't). The scary thing about it was that they had big guns strapped to their bodies and were randomly picking out people to search. It was scary, I guess- well so my mother says, but I don't remember being scared because at 15 nothing is scary, except pimples and broken fingernails and having to face your father if you came home late.
They eventually left the bus with no further ordeals, although I think they lifted the towel off my brother to check on him, and either he really was asleep or was a good actor, but they left him alone and left, and left my mother with soaring high blood pressure!
We arrived in Mae Sot and settled in at the hotel. We visited refugee camps qutie a few times. I'll never forget that - the beautiful children in clothes that were way too big for their skinny little bodies, and the beautiful men and women who lived there. The Thai government, I believe, allows the Burmese to cross over and live in Thailand, but only if they stay in the refugee camps. They cannot seek work or a life outside the camps.
There was a war going on at the time. The war is mostly between the Burmese government and the beautiful, gentle Karen people, who are mostly christian. We could hear guns and bombs going off night and day. It was in the distance but still part of our life in that town - I would absolutely freak out about it now at 36, but at 15 I just accepted it. (Amazing 15)!
My father tells (now, as I didn't know about it then) of how we were followed all through the town one day by some strange-looking men who were eyeing up us girls (there were about 5 single girls, including my sister and me). The three older girls were in a hotel room by themselves the first night until we heard the next morning that they were woken up all through the night with men knocking on their door propositioning them.
I remember that hotel as having really nice chicken and mayonnaise toasted sandwiches - it was all I ate the entire time.
One day, and I can't remember how we got there, but we were told we were going to visit a little village where a pastor and his wife lived, and could we take some of our medical supplies to give them.
All I remember now is arriving at a road with a blockade and finding all these men in uniforms who were very ... shall we say, jolly. Drunk would be a less-polite word for it. They took all our passports off us (at the time we didn't know why - this was probably because our Philipino, non-Thai-speaking guide failed to inform us - (he was a very relaxed sort of person); and took our precious passports into the little building. At this point, I believe my father was getting quite worried. The men came out again and gave them back to us. As far as we could tell, they hadn't done anything to them, probably they were just after a few laughs from our passport pictures!
Well, we carry on with our journey and arrive in the little village where the pastor and his wife greeted us as we stepped out of the bus, "Welcome to Burma"!
I think my father nearly dropped on the spot.
Burma! How did we get here!!!
I have no proof of the stamp in my passport, but I have been on Burmese soil in a genuine Karen tribe village. We ate with the pastor and his wife in their little wooden hut, we met the maimed young men who had returned from fighting. We visited the little school where the beautiful children were, and we did puppet shows for them, sang for them and told stories, and left them our meagre medical supplies which my mother had managed to round up from Auckland hospitals before we left, and then we went back to Mae Sot, back past the jolly guards who had disappeared and back to our hotel. It was one day out of my life, but very memorable.
Before we left Mae Sot we went to the little markets which were down on the river bank. This is a not-very wide river bank which separates Thailand from Burma. There at the market I bought a very beautiful ring - I have no idea what value it has - probably none, as the 'gold' has all but worn away, and the 'diamond's' are slightly yellowed, but I am told it is called a Thai ruby. I never wear it now (post-baby fingers. I no longer have the fingers of a 15 year old), but it is a treasure, and a little momento of that adventurous time. I have a very basic digital camera that does not take good close-ups, so I had to sharpen this a little on photobucket, but here is one of the very few things I have, apart from a few photos, that proves I was in Mae Sot and Burma. I have always loved the way the reflection of the light makes lines across the stone. It's hard to see in this picture, though.
One of our nieces (we have 11 just on my husband's side) flew into Christchurch today from Auckland for a Water Polo game. We thought it would be fun to go along and see her. I have never before seen a water polo game. I showed my ignorance by telling the children it was a bit like tennis in the water (my son is having tennis coaching). How wrong was I!!! I think I imagined it to be a bit like Polo where they have sticks, but it's actually more like soccer with hands instead of legs.
Kristina's team - North Harbour Women's from Auckland were playing a Christchurch team, but being an ex-Aucklander myself and it being her team as well, my allegiance lay with Auckland, and they won too. 11-8!
Here is our beautiful niece (the one smiling) before the game - they have such cute caps for water polo!
We didn't get to see much of her as she was busy and the coach was keeping a tight rein on them - he didn't smile much. But we're glad to have made the connection again and it was fun to watch.
And just in case you're wondering - I am not old enough to have a 20 year old niece - I married one of the younger brothers of a family of 8.
We had my cousin Andrew and his wife Nan and their son Wesley from Auckland for lunch today. We haven't seen them in awhile, so it was lovely to catch up.
For lunch we had my Grandmother's Zucchini Quiche. It took awhile to explain to the children that Andrew and I had the same Grandma. It sounds complicated when you start to say "your Grandad's mum and Andrew's Dad's mum is our Grandma, and your Great Grandma...."
Here is a picture of them with our three children:
Welcome to my blog. I'm glad you dropped in. I'm a wife and mum to 3 children. We are blessed to live in the beautiful South Sea islands of New Zealand, and I love to write about our life and the things we do on our homestead of 10 acres, our adventures with animals and homeschooling, and the little things that touch my life and those around me. I hope you'll enjoy visiting.
