Taking a Walk

Thematic Photographic 403

This post is a bit late, but I've been waiting through
three days of heavy rain for a chance to "take" a walk
 - or as we say in this part of the world, to go for a walk.

If I wait any longer I'll miss out on this theme 

completely, so here are some walking photos, 

mostly of family, from my archives. 

For other posts on this theme, go to Carmi's blog here.

First, one of my favourite shots of our son, taken in Bolivia. 

Sadly, I wasn't there to take it!

Here, he was briefly back home in New Zealand:

Our daughter and her husband, walking into their future 

after their beach wedding in Rarotonga. 

Can't believe it was 10 years ago!

Grandchildren are the dots that connect the lines from 
generation to generation. ~ Lois Wyse

Stepping out:

Maybe Grandad knows the way...

And of course, a walk's never a proper walk 

without Manu along!

I look my best when I'm totally free, on holiday, 

and I'm walking on the beach. ~ Rosamund Pike

A hat helps...

Thematic Photographic #399 - 'Hat Trick' See more here.

Hats are great (although I can never find one which I feel  

suits me).

Hats can help you concentrate

And sometimes they are absolutely necessary

The Duke of Wellington always wears his pointy hat in Glasgow

And some family history. 

My half-sister was one of the first 'stewardesses' to fly on the TEAL (the ancestor of Air New Zealand) flying boat service between New Zealand and Australia. 

Here, she is second from the back, in a very jaunty hat indeed.

Sunday Snapshot

Samantha, my 7-month old kitten, enjoying a patch of sun on the rug.

 

A new family member

This is Sammy. She's 3-4 months old, and very playful. 

She arrived yesterday from the SPCA, and has already taken control of the house.

Surreal as you like...

Another highlight of my time in Spain in May (see A Day at the Rock) was a short trip with my son 

 to Cadaqués, a seaside town north of Barcelona (where he and his girlfriend live). 

They often go camping on this coast, and know it well.  

The scenery is stunning, and we had several lovely days there, 

but that's not the reason for this post.

We are both fans of Salvador Dali's paintings, and we were very keen 

to see the Dali Museum at Figueres, and his house and garden at Portlligat. 

The Museum and everything in it was designed and conceived by the artist, 

and is considered to be his last great work. 

It was amazing, strange and weird at times, but always brilliant. 

None of the photos I took inside came out well, but I did have a chance to see 

one of my favourite paintings, Galatea of the Spheres:

 The next day we walked over the hills from Cadaques to Portlligat to Dali's house. 

You have to book several weeks ahead to go inside, which we hadn't done, 

but we were able to buy tickets to walk around the garden, 

which I'm sure was far, far better than the house!

 The garden winds its way up to the top of the property. 

Here's the view from a high point:

As you will see, it was all white, with lots of lovely cool trees. 

And an egg theme...

One end of the very inviting swimming pool:

and, along a narrow channel, the other end:

 

There were some Dali-esque oddities, including quite a few 'snakes':

But the overall feeling was of a lovely, calm and peaceful place. 

I'd go back tomorrow, if I could:

Please click on the photos to enlarge them. They look better when they're bigger!

Summer

We had a very cold and windy non-spring, but now we are being rewarded for our forbearance with a fantastic summer. Since just before Christmas the weather has been beautiful - sunny and warm, with a high most days of about 27˚ C (about 80˚ F), usually with a pleasant breeze. 

There's been no rain, and I guess if this continues much longer people, especially farmers, will start complaining. But I love warm weather, and I'm happy!

Last weekend my daughter and her family went camping at a beach not far from here. 

It's not a surf beach, so it's perfect for little folk.

Low tide, sunset:

Sunrise:

Don't you love summer?

The Best Thing

The best thing this Christmas/New Year has been seeing all of my immediate family together, 

for the first time in three years. 

One of them wasn't even born last time we were all in the same place!

Here are a few favourite shots from the last few weeks.

My beautiful granddaughter. She will be 4 in March:

Her little brother, who has just turned 2:

And both of them at my favourite spot - on the water - with their dad:

Rear views

Late as usual...

Here are my "taken from behind" pics for TP 209:

Changing the guard at Ataturk's Mausoleum.

Ankara, Turkey.

 Kids messing about at the harbour. Tauranga, New Zealand.

 A boy and his dog:

A favourite photo of my grandaughter, aged about 18 months:

 

My son walks ahead of me down an alley in Barcelona:

 

Status update

Today is my birthday. In the past, my feelings about birthdays have usually been negative, but today I'm feeeling upbeat. I'm in counting-my-blessings mode. 

The day started with a half-hour Skype talk with my son, who lives in Barcelona. 

Then there was a phone call from my 3-year-old grandaughter: "Happy Birthday Granma! we're making you a secret birthday cake!!!" (cue hysterical laughter 

and shussshhing from her parents in the background).

 Birthdays are a big deal when you're just 3.

It's a lovely warm, blustery, sunny autumn day, and as I drove to meet a friend for our traditional lunch (it's her birthday today too) I made a mental good things list, including family, friends, a job I enjoy...

I hope you all have a brilliant May 12, too.

When I was in Christchurch last month I took this sunrise photo from my bedroom window:

Thematic Photographic 127: Family (2)

On a happier note

My grand-daughter, aged about 19 months:

 

And her new brother, about 20 hours old, taken yesterday:

Thematic Photographic 127 : Family

 

This man was my father.

When I was born, he was 65 years old. My mother was 45. He had been married for more than 30 years to a woman who was institutionalised for most of those years, because of mental health problems. They never had children. Finally, her death liberated both of them.

A few years later he met my mother, a widow with four daughters, the youngest of whom was about 9 years old. They married, and he was a wonderful stepfather to her girls – but he always spoke with regret of never having had a child of his own.  So, although she must have previously felt that her days of having kids were finished, and although it must have been scary to become pregnant at her age, she allowed that to happen.

He doted on me. Everyone said that they had never seen a man adore a child as he did me.

When I was 3 years old, and he was 68, he died, suddenly, of a heart attack. Apparently, I became sick with grief when he “disappeared”.

I wish I had known him. Because of his age he was probably never going to see me become an adult, but I wish I had known him long enough to have some memories of him. What memories there are, are buried deep in my psyche, and are more like scars.

I know little of him, sadly – my mother spoke of him very little, and the few things I do know came from the two eldest of my half-sisters. He was a farmer. His parents were born in Scotland, and emigrated to New Zealand for a better life. He was very tall – 6 feet 4 inches. He loved me.

I have my father's colouring, his bone structure, his chin. My son has his height, and we both have his enquiring mind and his intellect.

Hei maumaharatanga