Thursday, 16 July 2009
On my day off on Wednesday, I babysat my grandson while my daughter and granddaughter went to the latest Harry Potter film. A school holiday treat.
H. is a beautiful little boy with a lovely, peaceful nature. He is so easy to look after, happy to wander about, chattering away to himself, allowing me to participate in his play as I please. No sweat Gran'ma Kay! We feel very lucky to have such beaut, little (altho' B at 11 is now not so little) grandchildren.
Speaking of luck. The earthquake we experienced last night at 9.20 p.m. here in the south of NZ (and amazingly, apparently also felt - although faintly - in some high-rise apartments; from the eighth floor up; in Sydney, Australia) was the second-biggest NZ has ever experienced. It was 7.8 on the Richter scale, yet as far as geologists and other experts can ascertain, hardly any damage occurred. The fact that its epicentre was in such a remote place; an uninhabited region a little off the south-west coast; was our saving grace.
Robert and I laughed tonight when we saw on the National News, a film clip from a shop's camera of the earthquake as it was happening, showing one bottle flinging off a shelf. One bottle! Pictures of earthquakes of the same magnitude overseas show tumbling buildings and people running for their lives; but for us here in NZ, it's one bottle. Oh. I am being unfair. But somehow that clip of one bottle flying off the shop's shelf seemed very New Zealand.
Today's after-work walk was beside a rough sea. A recent high tide had bashed right in against the sand dunes and taken away a huge amount of sand, forming steep cliffs directly below the surf club and along St Kilda beach. It always astounds me how much sand a tide can shift. At times, plumes of foam shot up in the air as breakers clashed, and a smoky haze from the spray covered the sea.