Moving and Mischief

Date: Friday July 15, 2011

Time: 11:03 am

Location: Taupo, NZ, The Fox’s Living room

The Kiwi’s call it “shifting” but in America we call it moving. This week I moved from my flat at the Short’s, to a bedroom at the Fox’s. The deal was I would spend a month at the Short’s and a month at the Fox’s. That’s right; it’s already been a month!

On Wednesday, I packed my growing number of belongings and cleaned then headed to the Fox’s. My room is awesomely purple and has a matching bedspread decorated with birds and flowers. The duvet is incredibly light but also, incredibly warm.  It’s filled with some sort of feathers.

Since “shifting” here, I’ve found it much more difficult to get out of bed in the morning. When I had my own  flat, I could turn my little gas heater on a reasonably warm temperature and close the bedroom door to trap the heat. I also had the water heater in my closet, which I think helped the heating situation.

Now that my room is part of the main house, it gets just as chilly as everywhere else. I have an electric blanket again, but I don’t use it because the blankets make it warm enough. It’s when I climb out of bed that’s the problem. I pull my blankets up to my chin and contemplate throwing off the covers for about 20 minutes each day; the tip of my nose being the only cold part of my body. “Alright, get out of bed NOW…Now….Now….” I keep losing the battle in convincing my toes to emerge first. The piggies are reluctant to get out of the blankets!

My years in Girl Scouts have done nothing for my ability to build a fire, which I had to do today. As I sat watching Tyra and Skyping, I began to get chilly. Mr. Fox was home earlier for a few minutes to have lunch and he told me where to retrieve wood and how to build the fire. He came home as Tyra was talking about periods, which was a smidge awkward. WHOA! Where’s the mute on this fancy remote?!

I was trying unsuccessfully to start the fire for a few minutes when Jessica IMed me on Facebook, we decided to Skype and she even tried to help me get it going via webcam. It was beginning to come together; I managed to get a few pieces of kindling to catch on fire. But it didn’t really start to roar until Mrs. Fox came home for lunch and opened the vent. Go figure. I tell ya, if I ever end up in the middle of the woods somewhere and my survival depends on my ability to start a fire, I am in for a pathetic end.

If at this moment, someone were to cut me, I’m pretty sure I would bleed Nutella. Today alone, I have had 6 pieces of toast smeared with the stuff.  Two for breakfast, two for lunch when Mrs. Fox came home and two after she left. I think it stems from my laziness. I’m too darn lazy to attempt to make myself something real for lunch. Plus, I wouldn’t even know what to make! I’m a sad excuse for a woman. Aren’t women supposed to be good a cooking? I blame you, America. It’s all those chicken fingers and frozen pizza’s I eat when I’m at home. So easy. Never forcing me to be creative.

Well, whaddaya know? It’s raining again. I swear, Taupo is the New Zealand equivalent to Seattle. I don’t mind actually, because that means my new friend Mischief will come inside. Mischief is the Fox’s orange-striped 10-year-old cat. We made friends last night when he hopped up onto my lap and sat there purring as I watched TV. When the Fox’s went to a church event he and I had a good conversation. I’d get up to get a glass of water and he would follow me. “Meeeeeeeooow!” he’d say. Which either means, “I love you, let’s be friends!” or “You’re up! Does this mean food??” I choose to believe that he loves me and wants to be my friend.