AmeriNZ Podcast episode 420 is now available

AmeriNZ Podcast episode 420, “Season of change”, is now available from the podcast website. There, you can listen, download or subscribe to the podcast episode, along with any other episode. The site doesn't currently use “https”, so you may need to tell your browser to let you through, anyway.

The five most recent episodes of the podcast are listed on the sidebar on the right side of this blog.

Through the eye of a needle

There are a lot of needle metaphors, and a few even relate to sewing, one way or another. But my needle story, though about sewing, is also about a life-journey (mine, obviously). Because even now, I can still learn new things.

Back in October 2022, I wrote about darning socks, something I’ve been doing for decades. In August of the following year I wrote about me mending shirts, or, more accurately, sewing on some buttons. That’s just like darning socks: Something I learned to do in childhood. But there was something between those two posts that led me to learn a new thing.

When I went to fix my shirts in 2023, I couldn’t find my needles and thread—they weren’t where they were supposed to be. I knew I’d had them in this house because I’d used then to darn those socks. Impatient and annoyed, I bought a pack of needles of varying sizes (the largest of which appeared suitable for crucifixion…) and some thread. Before I opened the new stuff, and by sheer luck, I found the originals, and I fixed the shirts using them.

Since then, everytime I’ve needed to mend something, I got the sewing supplies out of the place they’re supposed to be, but the other day I was mending something and I looked at the unopened pack of needles and noticed the little thing in the photo up top: A needle threader. I knew what it was, and I saw it every time I got out the sewing supplies, but it never occurred to me to use it.

When I was younger, I had no issues threading a needle. While I may not have succeeded in one attempt every time, my average was pretty good. However, as I grew older and needed reading glasses, it became hard to thread the needle, and yet I still never used that little needle threader. Until the other day.

The first time I threaded the needle that day, I got it on the first try, which I admit was nothing but pure luck, especially because the next threading was one failure after another. At this moment I finally remembered the needle threader. I carefully opened the pack and got it out, and instantly realised I didn’t actually know how to use it. I did what seemed logical to me and it worked instantly, and on the first try with it (and, again, this was after several failed attempts to thread the needle in the "traditional” way).

There’s no reason I never used one before, except, maybe, my mother didn’t use one, and so, I never learned about it. How I managed to nevertheless know what it was is lost in my own distant past, but because I did, I finally realised it might be a much easier way thread a needle, and it definitely is.

Although I’ve only written about it twice, I’ve actually mended various clothing items many times even in just the time I’ve been in this house, and I expect to do that for years to come. As I said in my 2022 post, “One of my core values is to live as sustainably as possible/practical,” which is one of the reasons I repair clothing whenever it’s possible or practical. I come by this naturally: My parents' adolescence was during The Great Depression, and their adult life began in the World War 2 era, so they came from a time when mending and making-do was important. Related, I’m sure, they both were also big on DIY of various sorts, including artistic work. They instilled that ethos in me, too, and to this day, decades after their deaths, I still carry on the values they taught me, and I still carry a love for DIY, self-sufficiency, and also a more modern ethic I added, sustainability.

In context, then, the fact I repair my clothing (among other things…) is no surprise whatsoever. It’s also not a surprise that I took that needle threader and used it successfully, despite never having done so. The only thing I can’t answer is why it took me so long to do that. Now that I have, however, I’ll use it‚ and its inevitable successors—every time I need to thread a needle.

Even now, and even when I’m doing something I’ve been doing for decades, I still learn new things. To me, that’s the best part of this whole story.

Eventual evidence

Every once in a while I find evidence for something I’ve said in a blog post a day or so later. The Facebook “Memory” above is an example of exactly that. This past Saturday, I wrote about the latest of the twice yearly clock changes. That post had a lot of tongue-in-cheek joking—including about me. However, it turns out, I really am affected by those time changes.

The Facebook Memory above was offered up to me yesterday, and it was last-year-me saying essentially the same thing I said in my post this year, namely, that the time change makes me tired. And boy, does it ever.

Yesterday I got together with some family, and I felt so incredibly sleepy I was worried I might doze off while I was there. I didn’t, but after I got home and sat down to watch my evening TV, yep, I fell asleep. Because my Apple Watch monitors whether I move or not, I know roughly when/how long I was asleep—only “roughly” because if I’m awake and watching TV but not getting up, my watch shows the same lack of movement as when I fall asleep. However, I know that I’ve been asleep when I wake up.

While I really do feel tired for around a week after the clocks change, I don’t remember that ever happening until I was in my fifties. Another change related to ageing? Dunno, but it’s certainly annoying, especially because the amount of sleep I get in the adjustment period doesn’t matter: More, less, or my usual amount of sleep all leaves my tiredness unchanged.

Still, it does eventually go away, and I know that—I just have to endure it until then. And then do it again twice next years.

The other thing I mentioned in that FB “Memory”, getting sunlight into the evening will become a real thing soon enough—but, at the moment, it’s just that sunset is now after 7pm—nice, but not as good as it’s going to be. Besides, the first full day after the clock change was mostly rainy—often with very heavy rain and dark clouds, and that weather made the later sunset seem exactly the same as the day before. It IS Spring, after all.

I re-set my wall clocks yesterday—the only ones I manually change. This year I finally realised why I hate doing that so much: The molded plastic backs all have a similar immovable loop used to hang the clock on a picture hook. However, I can’t see the picture hook, and I have a lot of trouble getting the clock back onto the hook. This is especially difficult with the kitchen clock, because where it’s hanging is awkward for me to reach. I came up with an idea to fix that buy putting a large loop of wire on that plastic loop because wire is flexible, and should be easier to put onto the hook. Maybe? If I do that for the next clock change in April, I’ll try to remember to blog about it (I should probably write a note for myself if I want to remember any of that…)

There’s nothing I can do about those clock changes, so I just have to be ready for around a week of being out of sorts. The clocks may change twice a year, but apparently my reaction to them doesn’t change. Oh, well.

My eggs-entricity

I made scrambled eggs on toast for my brunch today. There’s nothing even remotely unusual about that, of course, because I have eggs once or twice most weeks. However, there IS one thing that is a bit unusual, and it’s all about the yolks.

I have eggs several different ways: Poached, fried, scrambled, boiled (soft boiled in Americanese), and hard boiled, as well as using them as an ingredient in various dishes. However, there are times when even the idea of runny yolks repulses me, so on those days poached and fried are out of the question. I should mention here that today’s scrambled eggs were not an example of this: I was just in the mood for scrambled eggs.

This has pretty much been a lifelong thing. For example, back in 1973, when I was 15, my parents took me to the United Kingdom with them. My dad was attending a church-related summer programme in Canterbury, and staying on campus, so my mother and I stayed at a B&B. The host usually served a “full English” breakfast (eggs, toast, bacon, perhaps a sausage, along tea, coffee, or juice. While she sometimes mixed it up a bit, eggs were usually part of it.

The host noticed that I cut the whites away from the yolks, and ate only the whites. Sometimes my mother would have the yolks, but she didn’t usually. My mother told me she could practically see the “wheels turning in her head”, and the host eventually started serving me scrambled eggs (we never asked her to, and I never complained—I don’t think I ever actually spoke to her, actually—my mother spoke for us). I ate all of the scrambled eggs. Unfortunately for me, the host didn’t work out the solution until near the very end of our stay.

The thing about that time (or earlier, for that matter) is that I don’t remember actively disliking, much less avoiding, runny yolks, and the only reason the B&B story is because my mother noticed and talked about it for years afterward. At some point I obviously started eating runny yolks, but I have no idea when that was or why, however, I think that maybe it was because my friends and I would go out for breakfast after we went to the bars, and I wouldn’t have wanted to seem weird by avoiding yolks. I don’t know that for sure, of course, but it’s pretty much the way I would’ve thought in those days, a decade after I avoided yolks at a B&B in Canterbury.

However, there are still some days when the very idea of runny yolks really does repulse me, and on those days scrambled eggs are the only eggs I’ll make. Yes, even I think that’s odd, but it’s also just a part of who I am, so I’m certainly not embarrassed about it (clearly…). But there’s one more odd thing about this: I often think about it when I’m about to cooks some eggs—but only on the days I don’t care about runny yolks (on those days, all options are open). Yeah, it’s weird. And I don’t really care about that.

Changing times, September edition

At 2am Sunday, September 27, New Zealand’s clocks jump forward one our for Daylight Saving Time, which is known as “NZ Daylight Time”, or “NZDT“)”. While I hate the twice-a-year clock changes, the NZDT change is the hardest because everything’s suddenly an hour later, and many people say they feel tired for around a week afterward—and by “many people” I mean me.

Good, bad, or indifferent, these time changes are a fact of life, for now, anyway. One thing these time changes need are amusing memes for us to share. I’m being sarcastic, of course, but they are a handy way to remind folks of the impending time change—or, they would be if they were more specific.

One year I shared a time-change meme on Facebook, and an American friend shared it, even though we don’t change our clocks on the same date. I think that underscores the extent to which many (most?) people don’t know when their local clocks change, but I’ve noticed many, many times when people seem to be completely unaware of the time change.

So, this time I took an existing meme and added information specific to New Zealand (at the top of this post) so, I hoped, it was abundantly clear that it was intended for New Zealanders. I may do something like that again for the next New Zealand time change in April.

I don’t mean to suggest I’m wonderful and astute, though I’m clearly both, but I’ve always put the date of the clock changes on my calendars, first on old timey paper calendars, and later on my electronic calendars. My electronic calendar is now shared on all my devices—phone, tablet, desktop computer, laptop, and even my Apple Watch. In other words, I have no excuse for not knowing dates of things—though I only use specific alerts for important things like appointments.

I’ve noted in the past that changing the clocks in my house is much easier than it’s ever been: All those devices I mentioned automatically change the time, and even the clock-radio in my bedroom has a “DST” button to make it easy to add or subtract an hour. Actually, even my car automatically changes the time.

However, all is not perfect: My microwave and oven are completely manual, and so, I never change the time on them. The truth is, I’d never even think of looking at them to find out what time it is, not when I wear a watch and have ample other clocks to look at.

Ah, yes, those clocks: I have four wall clocks that I have to change twice a year. That’s annoying, absolutely, but there’s another aspect: If there was a major network failure of some kind, and all the devices that use the Internet to set their time couldn’t, at least in theory, display the time accurately, my four ordinary battery-powered wall clocks will be just fine. I guess they’re kind of like a chronographic backup system. That doesn’t actually make me like changing those four clocks two times a year, but I might feel differently if all my devices suddenly couldn’t display the correct time.

I actually wish we’d end these twice a year clock changes, and if one day all my clocks changed the time automatically, I certainly wouldn’t object. After all, if there ever was a catastrophic failure capable of prevent devices from displaying the time accurately, maybe it’d just be a good excuse to take some time off.

New Zealand will switch back to New Zealand Standard Time (NZST) at 2am on Sunday, April 6, 2026.

A coincidence of memories

A Facebook “Memory” strikes again. A couple days ago, I looked at that day’s “Memories” (image above), and that led me to share that post, adding:

Seven years after I wrote and posted this, I’d just said my final farewell to the love of my life, and today is the first time I noticed the coincidence of dates. It turned out, for me, the song really did end.

Back in 2012, I blogged about that Facebook post, and when I read that post to prepare for this one, I was struck by the fact my post started with, “Last night I posted…”. That suggests my 2012 Facebook post was about what happened on the evening of September 23, 2012—exactly seven years before our final farewell to Nigel on September 23, 2019. My Facebook post was dated September 24, which means I started it the night of September 23 (I presume I posted it after midnight, when it became the 24th).

I then added a comment to my Wednesday post:

As I was doing today’s post, I was thinking about the whole song metaphor. The thing is, there will always be new songs, some will be great, others off key and pitchy, and still others kinda elevator-style, but there will always be new songs. That doesn’t diminish or cancel out the old songs—the new ones often couldn’t exist with the earlier ones—but all those new songs can take us awhile to learn, and that’s okay.

Joni Mitchell said about dreams, “There'll be new dreams, maybe better dreams and plenty, Before the last revolving year is through”. We can’t know about new dreams or songs until they happen, but we can work to be ready for them when they arrive, and that, I think, makes all the difference.

I wrote all that for Wednesday’s Facebook post without having read my 2012 blog post. Now that I have, I'm kind of relieved that their themes are consistent (that doesn’t always happen when I return to a topic years later). Both are also consistent with everything I’ve said about love and grief, so clearly I mean what I say.

When that Facebook “Memory” pops up again next year, I’ll see the coincidence of dates that I never noticed before, but I’ve probably now said everything I have to say about that particular event in 2012. I may not have a great memory, and sometimes I miss obvious connections, but I do have a blog. That’s often enough.

Equinox at the door

The September Equinox arrived in New Zealand at 6:19am this morning. Leo and I were still asleep at the time, although he waits for me to stir, and never tries to wake me up. He’s a good boy. At any rate, it’s now universally accepted to be Spring here—even by certain people who insist that seasons can only begin on equinoxes and solstices. Leo, of course, couldn’t care less about such things.

Spring is a season of change—although, one way or another, all seasons are. Nevertheless, there are some things that are unique to Spring, like pollen, for example. I never used to be bothered by pollen, but over the past decade or so I’ve been affected more and more, and it’s been particularly bad for me this year. Add to that the rainy and awful Spring weather New Zealand can get this time of year, and, well, it’s not ideal. Still, none of that lasts forever, right?

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been busy planning out exactly what I want to get done to the house, and the order it needs to happen, because some things can’t happen until other things are finished. As it happens, the Waikato Home and Garden Show is coming up, and it may be a good opportunity to organise quotes for various things, especially because there are often “show specials” to reduce the costs a bit.

While there’s a lot of work that I need to organise others to do, there’s still a lot I can do in the meantime, like cleaning. Rearranging the living area will mean moving heavy furniture that's been in the same spot since I moved into the this house more than five and a half years ago, and those areas will need some cleaning. I also want to clean the carpets using the cleaner I bought back in 2022. So, technically, this means I’ll be doing a major “spring cleaning” of the house, though because all of the work on the house will be sone in phases, some of that cleaning may (will?) extend into summer.

So, no matter how one determines the start of such things, it’s definitely Spring in the Southern Hemisphere. It also means summer in the Southern Hemisphere is officially closer, and, to me, that’s a very good thing, indeed.

The December Solstice arrives in New Zealand at 4:03pm on December 22, 2025.

Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 17

Here’s a first: This week’s song contains words that younger or more sensitive viewers/listeners may find inappropriate. This week in 1985 a song that was not from a movie was reached the top of the charts. On September 21 1985, “Money for Nothing” (video up top) by British rock band Dire Straits reached Number One on the USA’s Billboard “Hot 100”. It was the second single from their fifth studio album, Brothers in Arms.

Let’s get ”the lyrics controversy” out of the way first: The second verse uses the word “faggot”, though many versions used a different word, like for broadcasts (I can remember Chicago-based stations using the word “bozo”, though I could well be remembering that incorrectly because it was 40 years ago, after all, and because the actual song uses the word “yoyo” in the first verse). At any rate, I bought the album Brothers in Arms, and I remember feeling a little squirmy at hearing the word. However, It was also clear to me that the song is from the point of view of a blue collar worker, and that person uses the word as a matter of course, but, in context, he’s also grudgingly admiring someone who gets “money for nothing”. I absolutely get all that, and got it way back when, however, I still had some reservations.

First, not everyone would get the fact that singer Mark Knopfler was basically performing a role, not endorsing a world view. Also, in 1985 there was a still a LOT of stridently—often aggressively so—anti-gay rhetoric coming from church and state, and using the word would inadvertently reinforce the negativity and bigotry. Ironically, even though the developed world (perhaps no longer including the USA…) has moved forward on LGBTQ+ issues, it’s no longer socially acceptable to use the word.

In general, I think that the acceptability of various words is, always has been, and probably always will be, a topic of often heated debate. My general attitude is that context is important, and so, I seldom engage with those who hold strong opinions about words used in songs. For me, this song and that word were no different.

Another thing about this song that is notable is its music video. The video was an early—and primitive—use of 3D computer animation, and it almost didn’t happen. Knopfler hated the idea of music videos because, as a performer, he felt it degarded the song and the performance by relegating it. The video director, Steve Barron, was asked by the label to convince Knopfler to have a video because while MTV was interested in the song, they didn’t want a video that was just a performance video of Knopfler and the band: They wanted a concept.

I was never a huge fan of Dire Straits, or of “Money for Nothing”, but I liked them both well enough to buy the album Brothers in Arms on vinyl, and I liked that a lot. I may have also bought one or two other albums, but I don’t know for sure because, again, it was a long time ago, but also because I only brought maybe a dozen or so albums with me to New Zealand, and there were no Dire Straits albums among them. But I remember having this particular album, and one of the reasons I remember it so clearly is because of that one controversial word.

“Money for Nothing” reached Number 4 in Australia, Number One in Canada (Gold), Number 4 in New Zealand (5x Platinum), Number 4 in the UK (Platinum), as well as Number One on the USA’s Billboard “Hot 100” and also on their “Top Rock Tracks” chart, and it was alss Number One on Cash Box. The song wasn’t certified in the USA.

The album Brothers in Arms was rather successful: It reached Number One in Australia (17x Platinum), Canada (Diamond), New Zealand (24x Platinum), the UK (15x Platinum), and also on the USA’s “Billboard 200” (9x Platinum). Successful? It’s among the most successful of any of the albums I’ve mentioned in this series.

This series will return in two weeks, on October 12 with another first in this series—or, all of them, actually.

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1985” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 1 – February 2, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 2 – February 16, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 3 – March 12, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 4 – March 30, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 5 – April 13, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 6 – May 11, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 7 – May 18, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 8 – June 1, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 9 – June 8, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 10 – June 22, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 11 – July 6, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 12 – July 13, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 13 – July 27, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 14 – August 3, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 15 – August 24, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 16 – September 7, 2025

The sixth horrible anniversary

Six years ago today, I lost my husband, best friend, and soulmate, the one person I could always count on, and who could always count on me. It’s now also been 2192 days (because of Leap Years), 72 months, or 313 weeks (plus one day), and no matter the unit of measure, I’m sure I’ve felt every single one, some more than others, of course.

Six years may seem like an odd number to be affected by, but that number is also one quarter of the entire time Nigel and I had together. Statistically speaking, I stand a reasonably good chance of living on longer without Nigel than I lived with him, something I realised quite early on. However, back then I wasn’t in any kind of head space to act on that knowledge, and over the first few years I felt, basically, like I was in a metaphorical waiting room until my own time ran out.

Over time, the fog of grief cleared enough for me to realise that my own health is fine right now, and while no one can ever know the hour or circumstances of one’s own demise, it’s perfectly reasonable, at the moment, to assume that I could yet have a couple decades ahead of me. That led me to the second obvious realisation.

I finally began to understand that I have agency in determining what my life may be or what it may become. For example, back in January I started walking every single day in order to improve the likelihood that as I age I’ll remain healthy and mobile for as long as possible. I also recently decided to commit to staying in my house for at least five years, and to make changes to it that will improve it, yes, but mainly to realise its potential and make it what I want it to be.

While I’ve firmly shut the door to that metaphorical waiting room, I haven’t exactly locked it. My journey over the past six years has been filled with great progress and great setbacks, triumphs and failures, and lots of things—probably most things, actually—between those endpoints. All of that led me to what became my guiding principle.

Some nine months into my journey I wrote, “I came to realise something very important about my future: I don’t have to be happy, I just have to be content. Finding happiness is beyond my control—some people spend their entire lives looking for happiness, never finding it. But the latter? That’s something I can help along,” and being content is precisely what I’ve been working on ever since. After a lot of effort, I’ve pretty much succeeded in achieving that goal, and things as diverse as my daily walking routine and my commitment to my house are examples of that. In fact, those are what’s making it possible for me to feel content.

The only thing that’s certain about my future is, obviously, that Nigel won’t be with me on whatever this journey turns out to be—at least, not literally. I carry all the infinite good things from our life together, stored safely in my heart and memory so I can pull them out whenever I need comfort, inspiration, a laugh, or even just to feel a sort of virtual hug from the person I most want one from. I miss him as much as ever, and I sometimes still cry. I know both will probably always be true, but I also now finally understand that I can feel all that and be content at the exact same time.

September 20, the day Nigel drew his final breath, is the lowest point of my personal year, and probably always will be, but there’s an important thing about that: To have been so utterly and profoundly affected and changed by this one person and his love is a treasure I can carry with me forever. There’s the saying that goes, "with great love comes great pain", and that’s absolutely true. However, I’ve come to understand that great love is worth it, despite the possibility of great pain. Most days, it’s the great love that’s front of mind, other days, like September 20, the great pain reminds me that the great love is still there. But, through it all, it’s the love that endures.

Related: In last year’s post “The fifth horrible anniversary”, I talked about how an episode of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine was the perfect way to describe how I was at the beginning of this journey. Today’s post is really about how much has changed even since last year.

The AmeriNZ Blog is 19

Another day, another anniversary: Today, the AmeriNZ Blog is now 19. I published my first post, ”I live in a land downunder. No, the other one…” September 13, 2006. It’s obvious that this blog isn’t even close to what it was before everything changed in 2019 (and we won’t mention my podcast…). I have no idea whether things with this blog will ever return to what they were, though over the past six years I’ve frequently thought about formally quitting blogging, but never very seriously.

What has been on my mind the most over the past 18 month or so is trying to find a way forward in a life that makes absolutely no sense to me. This has been at the same time I’ve been trying to figure out what it will mean to become elderly by myself (assuming I have the good fortune to become elderly, of course). I’ve taken various steps that I think make sense for me (like walking every day), but, so far, I haven’t been as attentive to the rest of my current life, and that absolutely includes this blog (and my podcast…).

The recent events in the USA gave me a realisation—well, several, actually. First—and this isn’t new to me or anyone else—social media is arguably among the very the worst inventions humans have ever created. It seems that most—maybe all?—of the people in Western countries who commit political violence have become radicalised online, often, though not exclusively, through social media. My new thought was that maybe it’s not just the plethora of things people can engage with, but also the rapidity of much of that engagement, and this brings me back to this blog.

First and second generation blogs like this one are kind of quaint and old-fashioned. There have been attempts to commoditise blogs though various services, with varying results, but maybe—maybe—part of the solution to the harm wrought by social media is to slow things down a bit, and these “old fashioned” blogs give anyone the opportunity to create content that others can consume at their leisure. By extension, this same thing could also apply to audio-only podcasts, because they, too, are a bit more relaxed than video podcasts.

Or, maybe that wouldn’t help at all, and the old-fashioned content created by dinosaurs like me are destined to remain quaint and barely relevant. And, maybe society will continue to be dragged down by social media. Obviously, I have no way of knowing what will happen, but for the first time in a long time, I do feel like there’s a point to the creating content as I’ve been doing for the past 19 years. This is a thought process that’s still evolving, and, since I am a blogger, I’ll probably talk about it here on this blog.

This blog has always been about whatever catches my attention at any given point, but for the past six years that’s mostly been about me and reimagining my life. Of course. That isn’t as limited as it may sound, and actually has had all sorts of different things to talk about—when I get around to it.

What all this means is that the main issue still holding me back in pretty much everything, including blogging (and podcasting…) is a lack of determined commitment to getting around to talking about things I want to talk about. And yet, this blog is still here, and so am I. There are places to go, things to say and do—even after 19 years.

As I’ve said many times before, I began this blog in the first place because Nigel talked me into it—and then he encouraged me to podcast, too. And that’s the other big reason I continue: It’s among the very last things I did when Nigel was alive that I’m still doing, and the fact he encouraged me to do it is probably the rest of the reason I’m still doing this. I’ve often quoted the last line in my very first blog post because it continues to ring:

“So pour yourself a cuppa, relax, and let’s see where this leads.”

As I said last year, “I couldn’t have put that better myself—oh yeah, I did put it that way. And the sentiment is still every bit as valid.”

Previous posts on my blogoversaries:

Anniversay Time (2007)
Blogoversary 2 (2008)
Anniversaries Three and Fourteen (2009)
Fourth blogoversary (2010)
Fifth blogoversary (2011)
Sixth blogoversary (2012)
Seventh Blogoversary (2013)
Ten years of the AmeriNZ Blog (2016)
The AmeriNZ Blog is eleven (2017)
The AmeriNZ Blog is twelve (2018)
The AmeriNZ Blog is thirteen (2019)
The AmeriNZ Blog is fourteen (2020)
The AmeriNZ Blog is fifteen (2021)
The AmeriNZ Blog is sixteen (2022)
Anniversaries 17 and 28 (2023)
The AmeriNZ Blog is 18 (2024)

Thirty years, Part One

Thirty years ago today, on September 12, 1995, I arrived in New Zealand as a tourist, and Nigel and I met in person for the first time. It obviously went well: I was back to stay just over a month later.

Nigel showed me some of New Zealand, I found a job, and too soon I had to fly back to Chicago—and I immediately started work to return to live here permanently. There was a lot to sort out.

Today’s anniversary was soon overshadowed by another, the date I arrived back in New Zealand to live, which we always thought of as our anniversary because it was when our life together began. Then we had a civil union, then we were married—there were so many dates to choose from! I probably needed my tongue-in-cheek “Season of Anniversaries” blog posts just to keep track of them all.

Not surprisingly, these anniversaries always make me think about—well, everything: The great adventure we shared, how bloody unlikely ANY of it was, and, of course, how much I miss Nigel and our life together. This year in particular I’ve been thinking about something I said back in 2012:

Never underestimate the power of love to make the improbable possible, or to transform the unlikely into an entirely new life.

Thirty years ago today was a weird mixture of excitement, fear of the unknown, and an awareness of what we were starting, and because we did, I got to be with the love of my life for the rest of his life: How could I ever NOT remember this anniversary?

Previous posts about my arrival anniversary (the first three and 2023 only mention it):

Anniversary Time (2007)
Blogoversary 2 (2008)
Anniversaries Three and Fourteen (2009)
Where it began (2010)
Anniversary of the beginning (2011)
Another anniversary (2012)
18 years ago today (2013)
19 years ago today (2014)
Twenty years ago today (2015)
21 years ago today (2016)
22 years ago today (2017)
23 years ago today (2018)
24 years ago today (2019)
25 years ago today (2020)
26 years ago today (2021)
26 years ago today (2022)
Anniversaries 17 and 28 (2023)
29 years ago today (2024)

Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 16

Well, what do you know? This week in 1985 yet another song from a movie was top of the charts. On September 7 1985, “St. Elmo's Fire (Man in Motion)” (video up top) by British singer John Parr reached Number One on the USA’s Billboard “Hot 100”. It was the main theme for the film St. Elmo's Fire, and was the first single from the film’s soundtrack album. The song was written by Parr and David Foster, who also produced the record. The Wikipedia article about the long (linked to above) says the song “was created and edited within 24 hours”.

I remember the movie and the song, and while I thought they were “okay, I guess”, I didn’t exactly love either one. Before I saw it, I thought the film sounded almost like a sequel to The Breakfast Club. It absolutely wasn’t that of, course—it just had some of the same actors, and was one of the “Brat Pack” genre of films in that era, but that’s all the connection there was between the two films, and I knew all that before I ever saw the movie.

What I liked about the song was that it had a nice radio-friendly sound, and Parr’s voice was different enough from other artists of that era to be interesting. However, I loathed the music video—and, in fact, I still do.

The music video, was directed by Kort Falkenberg III, who devised the unusual concept with the film’s director, Joel Schumacher. It’s essentially a sequel to the film, with all seven main cast members appearing, and visiting the now burned-out St Elmo’s Fire bar. None of with is why I loathed the music video, it was the final scene, described well by the section of the Wikipedia article on the song that talked about the video. It says: “The ending of the video shows Parr singing to each individual cast member from the film before he disappears into the night, and the cast follows him.” Yeah, that just didn’t work for me. At all. I thought it was utterly silly, so much so that I thought it was “cringe” decades before that became a term. In fact, I loathe that scene so much that in reserarching this post, I initially stopped the video before the end to avoid shuddering at the sight of that scene. But, because I;m a professional I realised I needed to check to make sure that scene was still in the YouTube version. It is, of course, and I still loathe it. To each their own.

While I’ve had fun joking about all the songs from movies that became Number One in 1985, I had a thought when writing this post: In the old days, it was quite common for songs from movies to become hits on the pop charts, but now that seldom—never?—happens. These days, movie soundtracks often use pop songs by established artists, but the songs have often been released by the artist before the movie even comes out. I have no idea why movies often don’t bother with pop songs written for the movie—maybe it was to cut costs?

“St. Elmo's Fire (Man in Motion)” reached Number 4 in Australia, Number One in Canada (Gold), Number 5 in New Zealand, Number 6 in the UK (Silver), as well as Number One on the USA’s Billboard “Hot 100” and Number 2 on their “Mainstream Rock” chart, as well as Number One on the Cash Box “Top 100”. The song wasn’t certified in the USA.

The soundtrack album for St. Elmo’s Fire reached Number 90 in Australia, Number 16 in Canada, Number 40 in New Zealand, and Number 21 on the USA’s “Billboard 200”. The album didn’t chart in the UK. It apparently didn’t receive any certifications.

This series will return in two weeks, on September 21 with the next 1985 Number One in this series.

Previously in the “Weekend Diversion – 1985” series:

Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 1 – February 2, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 2 – February 16, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 3 – March 12, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 4 – March 30, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 5 – April 13, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 6 – May 11, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 7 – May 18, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 8 – June 1, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 9 – June 8, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 10 – June 22, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 11 – July 6, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 12 – July 13, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 13 – July 27, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 14 – August 3, 2025
Weekend Diversion: 1985, Part 15 – August 24, 2025

Adaptation me

If there’s one word to describe what I’ve been going through since Nigel died nearly six years ago, it’s this: Adaptation. I’ve had to learn or re-learn how to do everything Nigel did for us, and I also had to relearn how to be a me, not half of a we. I’ve about all of that over the past few years, and it’s certainly an ongoing process. Recently, however, I realised there are some specific examples showing how all this has progressed, how I’m adapting to my reality.

The image at right is a screenshot of a Facebook “Memory” from 2021 (which I also mentioned here on the blog). It’s about how I regained ownership of the Internet domain Nigel got for our email, but that I accidentally lost in June 2021. It was the biggest personal setback I’d had since Nigel died, and it was hugely painful. Getting the domain back, and the email accounts up and running again, mattered so very much to me.

All of which resurfaced recently when the company that hosts the email service contacted me to say they were retiring the server I was using, and I’d need to upgrade. At the time, it was too much for me to deal with (something that has recurred frequently since Nigel’s death). More recently, I got notice that it was time to renew my service, and I was going to so that the first chance I got, but they rang me first.

I renewed my account for three years, partly because there are always discounts for making longer commitments for their services, and because that meant I wouldn’t have to deal with it for three years. I renewed and gave them the go ahead to migrate all my email to the new server. That was all finished within a couple hours.

When they were done, they sent me the settings for the new server, and I updated my settings on my desktop Mac, and also on my iPad and iPhone. However, the emails for that account have’t worked on either my tablet or phone since 2021 when I lost the former service. Now, however, the address work on all my devices. Nigel made sure they all worked, then they didn’t because he wasn’t there too look after our tech, and now it works again.

This week, I bought a new stick vac. The one I had been using was a Dyson that Nigel bought at least ten years ago from a retailer, paying roughly half price (from memory, it was an an old model—V2?—and the retailer was getting rid of old models). It was really useful at the last house because it had stairs and the stick vac was much easier to use to vacuum them than the canister vacuum was.

After I moved here, the powerhead attachment for the canister vacuum broke in a spot that wasn’t repairable. So, I had to use the non-motorised floor attachment, or the Dyson, which is what I was using—right up until it wouldn’t hold a charge anymore. Dyson does sell replacement batteries, though they don’t make it easy to find the model number, which is vital because different models use different batteries.

I realized that if I bought a replacement battery, I’d have to replace it again—IF they still stock the batteries by then (like I said, it’s an old model). So, I started looking into getting a different machine, specifically a Ryobi because they use the same 18v batteries my power tools use, meaning I’d have plenty of batteries to use, and the company is highly unlikely to make any changes to the shape and functioning of their batteries, given the hundreds of devices that use them.

To evaluate which model was best, I again turned to the evaluations published by Consumer NZ, and found that a model that was was well-rated, especially for pet hair, and it was also somewhat less expensive than the couple models rated somewhat higher. All of which wasn’t enough to motivate me to finally buy the vac until this week.

As soon as I got home with the new machine (photo at left), I did a quick vacuum and it works really well, even along the edges without changing tools—in fact, it did edges better than any other motorised floor attachment I’ve ever used (for at least the past 15 years or so). It did a really good job cleaning, picking up an impressive—and somewhat concerning—amount of stuff, probably because I haven't had a working powerhead for a couple months or so. Reviews I read said the machine's loud, but it’s not any worse than the Dyson was and is MUCH quieter than the old canister vac is. However, it’s heavy, another thing reviews mentioned. However, I use dumbbells for arm strength training, so at least vacuuming will get not get a chore done, too, so winning! Actually, my only real complaint is that it’s too easy to bump the power switch and turn it off.

What these two stories have in common is that they’re about things Nigel used to take care of for us, but that had failed, leaving me to find my own way forward. And, I did. The email server story included one of my lowest points since Nigel died, but then things got better and now are good as ever (and, I’ve also upgraded all my devices to better/faster/stronger models since Nigel died). The vacuum story was more complex because I had to work out what I thought was the best option, not essentially updating an existing thing.

There’s probably some sort of metaphor in all this, but my overall journey hasn’t been even as linear as these stories, and often not as successful. Life isn’t always neat and tidy, or it isn’t for me, anyway. But sometimes I manage to find my way through challenges like these, even as I still wish I didn’t have to. And maybe that’s the best summation of surviving grief. I really am adapting to my reality.

Update – September 5, 2025: I forgot to mention that the machine came with two batteries and what they said was a "fast charger". In my first use of the vac, I used one of the batteries that came with it, but, as is often the case, it only had a minimal charge so I then switched to a fully-charged higher capacity battery I already had. I put the new battery on to charge, and it really was faster than the charger I already had—maybe half as long as my old charger. Then yesterday I did a little spot vacuuming with the machine and used up the battery I used during the week. It took a little longer to fully charge (because it has a higher capacity than the new one), but just a little longer. The "quick charger" is a welcome addition to my tool arsenal.

Finally, after joking about building arm muscle with the heavy vacuum, I suddenly realised I ought to try vacuuming with my left hand—and promptly realised that'll take time to master. The results were a bit gauche since my left hand just isn't as adroit or dextrous, but at least it's not actually sinister.

It’s Spring!!!

I have three favourite seasons, and they are: Summer, Spring, and Autumn, in that order. Winter can F right off, as the saying goes, and fortunately, we’re now at the point where it will start to do exactly that. It’s such a very good thing that I hardly have words to express how good it is, which is a bit of a problem for a blogger. I’ll soldier on nevertheless.

Winter was actually kind of normal, in my opinion, but it felt unusually cold, or was it just that we haven’t had a “normal” winter for a few years? I honestly don’t know, but there were plenty of folks I talked to who felt especially cold this past winter, so the perception, at least, is real.

August was probably the best month of this year’s winter, with extended periods of sunny days and milder temperatures—until the end of the month, when waves of stormy weather washed over of the country. The forecasted/expected Spring weather is that at first we’ll see more of the same, which makes sense, of course. And yeat, it IS a new season, and things will change.

Part of the reason that we had so much torrential rain (especially the top of the South Island) is that ocean to the west of New Zealand was warmer than normal, and that fuelled the torrential rains. Laready, though, the seas around the country have cooled somewhat, though they can still supercharge rainstorms, if slightly less so than in this past winter.

New Zealand had the La Niña effect for three years, which is why summmer 2022-2023 was so stormy: We had a “strong” La Niña, which led to the Auckland Anniversary Weekend floods and the devastation of Cyclone Gabrielle. The current prediction is that La Niña will continue to weaken and be neutral by summer.

Having said all that, we’re told to expect an “all of the above” Spring, with some of Winter’s horrible weather continuing, but alongside the nicer periods, too. So, yay? Nay? We’ll see.

Meanwhile, and recognising that no one controls the weather (neither the USA’s Democrats nor “Jewish Space Lasers” can do that…), I’m pushing ahead with plans for summer. Over the next couple weeks I plan to finalise my plans for what I’ll do my gardens this year (spoiler: tomatoes will return this year), and, more immediately, I’m going to clean out my VegePod and then use it as a greenhouse to start seeds to plant out in later October (which is like late April on the Northern Hemisphere). Rest assured: My gardening revolution will be blogger-ised.

So, here we are: A new season bringing warmer—eventually. But despite the fact that wintry weather will hang around for awhile, I think this is actually a really good time of year precisely because it’s a great time to prepare for better times, and that’s a great thing.

Onward!

For those who care about it, the September Equinox—the only correct name for that event, regardless of hemisphere—will arrive in New Zealand at 6:19am NZST on Tuesday, 23 September 2025. Related: At 2am the following Sunday, 28 September 2025, New Zealand will “Spring ahead” to New Zealand Dayight Time (NZDT).