Local Focal

A very Victorian Presbyterian church on the corner. This church is now empty - not because of disinterest, but because it didn't pass the earthquake standards and its congregation couldn't afford the requirements needed. The fate of many such churches in New Zealand.

Across the road from the church, this view over the inlet and the more distant harbour. This is the view from a neighbourhood cafe we like to frequent. Its name, Bistro on the Terminus, alludes to the fact that its location is the site of where once upon a time the trams would begin and end their journeys.

It makes me feel happy if, rather than trawling into centre city and the malls for what I need, I can do it all locally, in my local suburb - in my little corner of the city. That way, it feels like the larger corporations and chains aren't getting it all their way.

Two Butterflies and Two Empty Chairs

I feel I neglect this blog terribly, yet always return at some stage to add more. My other more cared for blog can be found HERE 

Me, looking sceptical outside a private residence inside a public park - the Oamaru Gardens to be exact. I was wondering what it would be like to live in the middle of a Botanical Garden. My cousin took the photo. We thought the house with its verandah, reminded us a bit of our grandparent's old house. Long gone now. 

These deep red glads I saw in the Oamaru Gardens, live up to their name and gladden my heart, reminding me very much of my mother's garden when we were kids. 

Petunias remind me of a children's story I remember from my childhood - Petunia the Goose.


My cousin and her parents gathered at the Gardens - a mid-point to our respective homes - to remember our Aunty Lorna, who died two years ago, as well as other members of that line who have died. My Aunty there with us that day, is the only one left of her siblings. I asked her how that felt. She admitted it felt strange. She found it especially difficult when she was trying to remember some family fact or story and the realisation that she had no-one left to ask anymore, really hit home.

While we sat in a sunny, sheltered spot, surrounded by the beauty of the Gardens we noticed that by chance, we had brought too many outdoor seats, resulting in there being two empty chairs. I pointed out how it was like having my mother and Aunty Lorna sitting there with us. As we talked, I kept imagining them chipping in.

At one point, I noticed a butterfly - for me butterflies often show up when I am thinking of, or missing, someone who has passed on. Suddenly there were two butterflies fretting above the flowers. Like two sisters, or the past and the present intermingling, tangling, making their presence felt.