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My feet will wander in distant lands, my heart drink its fill at strange fountains, until I forget all desires but the longing for home.

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The End of 2004 As We Know It

i.e., New Years is coming.

I'm writing this between checking last-minute options for New Years ... the radio has been advertising this year's hottest parties, wet T-shirt contests, ticket giveaways, and all sorts of tempting entertainments. As I am trapped listening to this radio approximately 8 hours per day, while attempting to distinguish the edges of the 2-millimeter boudaries between grades of cherries, I'm spending a lot of my time forming opinions of local DJs and contemplating New Years' plans. And thinking, perhaps erroneously, that (since they're still advertising), there's a chance in hell I can still make plans.

All else fails, I do have a bed here, and there's supposed to be a street party with live music, or at least music, and there are a few people I know here to hang out with.

The "all else" that is currently failing includes:
Finding a place to stay in party-ville Queenstown (thoroughly booked; the resort town expands to more than ten times its normal size during these holidays.)
Finding a place to rent a car locally --(see above regarding tourist influx into some of the sunniest and most scenic country in New Zealand, during a holiday season that beats anything the US has ever contemplated, in that most of the nation actually leaves work for multiple weeks at once).
Finding a way to get to any of the above -- between whenever I get off work tomorrow (probably around 4 pm) and anytime anything I can get to would start happening. Possible ride with co-worker to non-existent accomodation in Queenstown.

I do have plans with some relatives of my ... hosts? employers? local sponsors? If I am their pet, does that make them my owners? ... anyway, they set me up for a hike in Wanaka, supposed to happen tomorrow morning, but if the weather remains precipitous, who knows.

There's also a young man from Invercargill who may be coming north ... and who has as yet failed to contact me about it... there are a few interesting young men in the backpackers' lodgings where I'm staying, too. I'm not trying to collect the whole set; it just feels like, if Christmas is a holiday that's more fun for me with a family, even a borrowed one, I think New Year's Eve would be more fun with a date. Or a date-like vibe within a crowd of singles.

By the way, speaking of Christmas -- I did spend it with the "owners" (of the orchard where I work, if not of me), and it was lovely.
We made oodles of dessert together, the evening before (four women in a kitchen, or two women and two girls depending how you count us; anyway, enough to be almost a party without hopelessly getting in each others' way), then I enjoyed a luxurious lie-in, we had elegant dinner around what I consider lunchtime, and sat outside enjoying the first day of cloudless sunshine that I've seen since I've been here in supposedly sunny Central Otago. Bees in the lavender, roses glowing brilliantly against their greenery, happy and relaxed people, younger family members playing puzzle-games with determination and good humor. The hostess was kind enough to wrap a few boxes of candy and the like, so that I and the other guest-stranger could keep the family company during the opening of gifts.
Later, we also went up the hill for a bush ride/rock scramble, among wild thyme and alpine/deserty flowers. Views of the green orchard valleys on both sides, soft and sere plants among the rocks.

Yesterday, my gifts from friends and family arrived here (they got to Auckland in pleanty of time, but I just recently told my Auckland office where to send them.)
I am delighted -- more lightweight but impressively useful gear for camping, a few tastes of home including chocolate, and my Mom's care-package Christmas special: A stuffed stocking, or sock, including the matching (clean) sock as one of the stuffers. You know you're not a kid anymore, or at least a very weird kid, when clean socks are an exciting part of Christmas.

I saved the stocking to open this morning, which got me up early to enjoy it. I was in a good mood all day as a result. When I got home from work, I put together the gliding birds from the stocking, and we made a nuisance of ourselves with them inside the backpackers' hostel.
I think I'll save the little plastic para-trooper (another family stocking tradition) to be deployed from a height to mark the New Year. Provided I'm not otherwise occupied. ;-)

...
Happy New Years, whatever you end up doing. In my perfect world, I think I would find something a lot like those parties Kris and John used to throw, with costumes and music and dancing and do-it-yourself entertainment by charming and talented guests, and then a great big sleepover/house party. I might add a (versatile) live band, in a real ballroom.
The beach party another backpacker described attending last year sounded pretty darn cool, too; which reminds me to fantasize about sailing again...

New Zealand's summer season offers the possibility of outdoor garden-parties, bonfires, and camping; hope the weather's fine by then.

Man~ana!


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