Peters funeral notice

Sorry when I sent out the notice last night I by accident put Robin Pearce name in the to box instead of my own and bcc everyone else.

Please do not reply to Robin only to peters email peterataylor@ihug.co.nz or mine Rodney Coleman at rodneycoleman@homail.co.nz

My Apologises to Robin for this mistake as I was very tired when I emailed last night.

Regards Rodney xx

Inspirational Speaker of the year 2012

(Nat. Speakers Assoc. Auck)

Bright Star winner 2012 (Nat. Speakers Assoc. Auck)

Ph 64 21 996 260

                 

 

 

Today, Peter Taylor, 18,3,53 to 15,9,13 gave up his heroic struggle against Leishmania. He will be sadly missed by the many people he has inspired.

Beloved partner of Rodney. Loved son of Joan, also sadly missed by his two sister’s Yvonne and Katie, Yvonne’s partner Simon and his niece’s nephew and great nieces and great nephews.

A private family cremation has been held.

Rodney and Pete’s family invite you to celebrate Pete’s life with a memorial celebration at;

St Mathews in the City, 187 Federal St  Auckland.

Monday 23^rd September at 3 pm to 5 pm.

Pete requests no flowers but asks for an equivalent donation to the Cartier Bereavement Trust. A collection box will be available at the memorial.

Dress code no black, colour befitting a party.

 

Inspirational Speaker of the year 2012

(Nat. Speakers Assoc. Auck)

Bright Star winner 2012 (Nat. Speakers Assoc. Auck)

Ph 64 21 996 260

                 

 

How's your day, Blog 114, the End

How’s your Day? Blog 114, the end

© Peter A Taylor, 1, September, 2013

There are many overwhelming moments when you are faced with 190 people, peers and friends who are talking about you as you maintain your dignity on stage. To my right is my soul mate Rodney as support and to my left the most honourable Buckwheat, the glamorous MC of our Auckland community, an actress and artist of stage screen and radio.

 

St Mathews Church in the City was transformed into a stunning building of white stone, accents of blue in the tiny orchid table settings and studded napkin holders. Our dear friend, Les Mack, had made 200 boxes with his signature Art Deco jewellery piece on each gold surprise package that held a tasty chocolate.

The entire night was fabulosity overload.  This fund raising dinner for the Cartier Bereavement Trust was a total success.  The cathedral ceiling is up- light with white spotlights and side columns are dramatically highlighted with blue and yellow bulbs.

 

Back on stage for the first part of the celebration, just as I have squeezed the life out of the last tissue, special people are invited to answer Buckwheat’s questions about me as I sit like a stunned mullet trying to absorb that this entire event to raise money is centred on the celebration of my life. Often choked with emotion and visibly in tears of joy, I fished hard to find more gratitude and humility to appreciate such an honour.

 

Needless to say, the evening from the tender chicken to the greetings of many and the making of money with auctions for the trust, made this successful special night a resounding triumph. The outpouring of love and respect , the truth and sincerity of the speakers from overseas and local is a privilege to hear before you pass over than wait until your are gone and over a bit of a soggy scone they say a few nice words. The Trust bought my dear friend Elaine from Sydney to surprise me as she was heralded and announced to speak.

 

What a way to leave this world. Knowing how many people I have touched has been the most revealing outcome of the tributes as I really had no idea of how my writing and philosophy of Don’t Postpone Joy has captivated a mindset. Also knowing that I cannot contribute any further means it’s time to step aside and let someone else have a go.

Crikey we’ve been grieving for so long we need new sponges as the others are dry with the starts and stops of the past several years of comebacks and slide downs and get up and shake off sort of carry on. If I don’t go, they’ll have to hit me in the head with a shovel and the conductor says,

              ‘Move up, next please.’

  So I will run over a few rollers in my light weight cardboard box, (saves sticking to the rollers) and boom, well it may be quieter, I will be on the other side with a smile as wide as the Cheshire cat.

Could you imagine the pile up if without the cardboard liner on the bit of ply wood, I singe and stick to a roller?

              “Hey Joe, hold up. We’ve got a sticker here and until we get him off, we are backing up like a car crash.’

 

It is time to thank and acknowledge all those who have shared, added to or been a significant part of my life. Firstly, the extensive medical team of specialists who have worked tirelessly to keep me upright. The friends who bring Sushi for lunge , the shoppers, visitors, helpers, cleaners, and all the talent that has been offered to me unconditionally from experts when I sought education. Then there are the old friends of reliability and shared memories, my contemplations and reflections and the passion from my horses moved to my writing, without planning it this way. Hence living became my business and my business became inspiration without plan or expectation.

 

Then there is you the readers who make this transition of crafts possible and fun. Without you there is no reason or purpose. So all together with love, peace harmony and no fear, I look forward to my next journey and thank you all for the part you have played.

 

With the sales and recognition of the last book ‘Past my Expiry Date ‘, doing well, I wish to thank those readers who have written recommendations on my book site and many thanks for your support. As they are self published, we have made them available to purchase go to Amazon.com and search for my name. It should bring you to all my publications. Let’s see how many people you can buy a copy for and touch another’s life.

 

What began as a surprise with a sand fly bite at the height of my dream career turned into a war of years that none of us expected, least of all me. We fought, my team and I to the depths of the trenches with the squirts as the body turned inside out and with the small steps forward giving hope and shining a ray of light, one of self awareness. What a roller coaster ride and one I’d never wish upon a soul.

 

My way was to seek head on as a youngster. From my education of how the horses and dogs collaborated and gave of themselves to sustain the species, it was prudent that I followed their example and learnt to offer ‘What is in me for you’, instead of always expecting ‘what‘s in it for me’.

 

Although we still don’t know what will happen from here as I have stopped all support medication, like everything else, I will go with the flow and manage with business like strategy and enjoy the moment. Full of uncertainties has been part of the excitement of living. I expect my passing will be equally as exciting. The lessons will continue to surprise and be full of wonder beyond my understanding at this conjuncture in time.

 

My philosophy of giving, sharing and kindness changes a mind to respect and gratitude. With these words as my cornerstone, I say goodbye and thanks for every little thing. See you on the other side.

For photo’s and articles of the night; go to gaynz.com

 

Pete x

 

 

 

 

How's your day? Blog 113, the Penultimate

How’s your day? Blog 113, the Penultimate

© Peter A Taylor Monday 5^th September

 

It is a perfect sunny warm winter’s day in Auckland with my doors and windows open to the fresh air. Yesterday we returned home from an overnight stay at Miranda Hot Springs, about 1 hour drives south east of Auckland. I needed a good soak after a tough 3 days of treatment.

 

Sadly due to my decaying body, it will be the last trip as I ran out of oomph. In fact I have made some decisions. The recent time in hospital with the ear scrap and the liver infarct was enough to put a big NO to any further invasive action. No operations, no cuts and no pain, as I can’t do it anymore. I have a big commitment I am hanging around for.

 

The Cartier Bereavement Trust, which raises funds to bury HIV patients’ who have been abandoned by their families, will hold a fund raising dinner on August 31. I am the subject for ‘This is your life’, so of format. Once this commitment is met I can let go of this very tired and painful body.

 

But there was another reason to help my choice. You, my readers were so very generous with your in pouring of tributes after my last blog. For the first time I was overwhelmed by the numbers of people I have touched and made a difference. I have changed the status quo. I was also waiting for my final book to be published. Once all these were achieved it was clear there was nothing left for me to do on this earth.

 

On the day after my dinner engagement I will cease all medications and treatments and let nature take its course. The Doctors assume it will take about 5 to 10 days and whoopee I’m out of here.

 

You probably have not met someone so excited about parting from this world. Being wrapped in love, without fear, happy and excited about my new adventure leaves me in no doubt as to I am ready. So much to do for this trip and no packing.

 

While at the hospital the other day and in line for a coffee, I met a vague acquaintance.

              ‘How are you Pete?’

              ‘I’m off in about 6 weeks,’ I said

              ‘Where too?’ he asked

              ‘Where it is always sunny.’

              ‘Oh, you’re off to the tropics. Well have a great time.’ Then he spun on his heel with a fresh coffee as happy as jam on a sandwich.

I smiled to know that was far nicer than saying I’m dying. I guess it is how you look at it all.

 

So now about my last and latest book.

‘Past My Expiry Date ‘

Is an exploration of how or why I am the only person who lived with this illness. I speak of my conditioning as a child to be prepared for uncertainties and to toughen up. I also tell of the lessons I learnt on the way through this extraordinary struggle. I leave you with a huge amount of inspiration, tools that may help, a mindset that has lasted all my life and in usual Peter Taylor terms I did it all my way. Don’t sing the song. This book is strong, powerful and reflects the growth of self awareness. A small book designed as an E Book I have also published in paperback for those without the technology and like the tactility of a book as they read in bed with a cup of hot chocolate.

 

Your part if I’m bold enough to ask is to share it on your face book, write a testimonial or recommendation for Amazon .com and see how many people I can further touch. So many of us expect someone else to click the like button or to re-tweet. But no one usually does. This time I’d really appreciate it.

 

Below are the links to my books. I thank you in advance and one more blog will be written to say goodbye.

Link to Kindle http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00E8AHB28

Link to Paperback https://www.createspace.com/4383315

 

How's your day, blog 112 reflections of a dying man

Your day? Blog 112 Reflections of a dying man

 

It’s Sunday morning and the sun is streaming in on the back of my neck with welcome warmth bringing cheer to my heart. As I sit and contemplate on my sofa, I could read my book, finish my cup of tea and have an anti-biotic. Waiting to pass from this world is both exciting and tiresome. My partner needs to move on and for this I need to get it over and done with.

The part to cherish is the time to say goodbye, contemplate what may have been and laugh about how expensive it is to die in NZ.

              ‘Oh yes, I was going to die last week, but I couldn’t afford it.’

So now the funeral, music , AV ,celebrant, cremation, insurance papers , new will, power of enduring attorney, rent, utilities , credit card up to date and the list goes on. Then you clean up your computer and delete all those names you can’t remember or who have not written in at least 6 months so your partner can click the button and say , ‘He’s down the Shute now’. If I had the energy Rodney would like me to write a little booklet, “the beginners guide to dying’. There is so much to know and so little time to learn about.

There could be an entire chapter on memorial catering choices. When I was told that the club sandwich, scone and a cuppa cost $7.50, my face puckered with the thought of 400 people or more coming to this party send off. Hell my partner could use the money as a deposit on an Auckland house. However Ham o the bone with rolls to make your own and cheese and Hummus for the vegetarians sounds like an easy option. Ladies bring a plate and a cash bar will be available was the old adage.

 

Being an environmental sort of a chap, I couldn’t bring myself to burn all that lovely wood. We have had an open fire this winter burning off cuts of kiwi fruit cases and if it’s not dry it smokes like a bastard. I mentioned this to my funeral director, a gorgeous gal, and asked about recycled cardboard.               ‘Peter, they are $950 each for cardboard.’

Well if you thought my face crimped like a hair iron with the price of a club sandwich, you would have thought I was paying for the Pope to say a few words. ‘I’m not paying for cardboard at that price even if it keeps an entire family in rice for a year.’

So we settled on a speedy cremation where only a hospice sheet bites the dust and I go down the Shute and am collected the next day in a box of my choice. Simple. No makeup, no hairdresser and no coffin costs, no pall bearers and now we can have the party where and when ever it suits as I’m in the box already with a bunch of flowers and a photo.

I don’t want anyone wearing black. Even if it is winter. Get our all the colour and fabulosity that befits a party. No dreary send off for this one.

However as the white pain sears any inspiration to ash as it permeates from a central point where they cut the cartilage of my ear out from an invasive cancer , I cannot help igniting an ember of imagination with a serious bit of reflection.

My colleagues tell me their children; now at university see our different context of our world. One wants to be a politician and another has a fully funded chemistry PHD. So, hope reigns in the light of global recession.

Blowing a little air on the embers of hope, means looking at life with a new paradigm.

Had I not been held hostage to my health and the hospital, I and my partner could live in a church in Southland with a manse, renovated into a one bedroom gorgeous place and the rest could be his studio as I write. We will explore the catkins and all places in the land of the Lord of the Rings. I’ve become good at growing a garden and although it is cold for a good part of the year, we’d be freehold for $79k.

Oh well, it is all reflections as last week I had a near miss when part of my liver infarct. Yes, sounds like a rude word, but part of it died from a blockage. Now that was pain. At least the ear pain will eventually subside and disappear as it heals.

However  folks, I was nearly not here to write this blog. There is little to write about when you have gone to ground like animals to lick your wounds and recover.

I’m not sure how many more blogs there will be. So you, have an extraordinary day and be grateful for everything you have.

 

how's your day blog 111 still cruising

How’s your day? Blog 111, Still Cruising

© Peter A Taylor, 21 June, 2013

 

Climbing out of this last pit feels like the Phoenix rising from the ashes. First, I was given three bags of blood during my previous treatment and this kick started my system out of idle into action. During the past four weeks I have been able to use energy to get on top of my wellness.

 

There is a formula now that I think about how I do it. As I wrote last time, I get a good book, fill the pantry with goodies I like and because I disengage with the rest of the world, I concentrate only on my wellness. I often sit in the sunny part of my lounge and stare vacantly at the opposite wall. What I am doing is emptying my mind of all unnecessary nonsense and most of all things are nonsense. I no longer remain connected to anything that requires stress, excessive thinking but let go of all things to focus only on my wellness.

 

This means concentrating on only things, incidents or memories that bring joy. Keeping it simple is about as good as it gets. KISS- Keep it simple, stupid. Then it is time for a nap or to read my book.

 

By now all chores are organised to be either done by another, or made to work with the minimum of my energy.  This valuable commodity I guard with my life. Somehow, I seem to pull myself belief to a strong power of one and claw my way out of the vortex to see the sun and joy in everything. I push away pain or just have another nap. Who cares and who is counting. If it works, hey, I’m not complaining.

 

Above all I give thanks to my partner for our gift of love, the good food we eat, the power is on, and the fire is burning to keep us warm. Yes, I am full of gratitude for everything I have to make my quality of life worth living. So, may it continue. When it all gets too much and I run out of oomph, I will seek another blood transfusion until my natural body says enough is enough.

 

Funny thing is when it gets to this point, it really is enough and I will go to my safe place and never be sick again.

This week was another round of three days of treatment. I feel tired but not as flat as usual. So lucky old me. There really is joy as I have begun writing another story about my animals using a mouse as the narrator. Being an animal and talking about animals leaves this writer with enormous fun and imagery. I will continue to cruise on.

 

How's your day? blog 110 Never give up

How’s your Day? Blog 110 never give up

© Peter A Taylor, 23, May, 2o13

 

After a bad week of concrete shoes and not enough energy to pull the skin from a Rice Pudding, I was sorting my funeral arrangements. I have pulled out of some hard places but I wasn’t sure I’d claw my way back from this last funk.

 

So, with a mindset that I had no responsibility to do a damn thing, I set out to work on my wellness. First I grab a good book. I then stock the larder with all the yummy things I like and at present, that’s not a lot except fruit and raw fish with lemon juice and coconut milk. My chores are limited to feed the dog and the chickens and I’ve become the master of the slow cooker. Yes, once the dinner is loaded just like your dishwasher, I pop it in a slow oven and forget it. Now for the rest of the day I read, sleep, sit and empty my mind. Still breathing short but drinking coconut water flavoured with Pineapple juice and mineral water with a squeeze of fresh lime, I settle. May be it will work and may be it won’t. I decided to retire and take on no work or writing unless I feel like clearing my emails occasionally. You are getting a picture here.

 

Within a week I began to have a little energy when it came to serving dinner and my eyes were not closing as I took my last mouth full. However I move to the softness of the sofa and relax once more. Then it’s an early night and another day is complete.

 

Yesterday I had an enquiry about speaking at a conference in October.

          Are you available on either 22^ndor 24^th of October?’ the kindly person asked.

          ‘Sure, neither of these dates is booked at this stage,’ I answer brightly.

Hell I don’t even know if I can make August let alone October. Then I’ve pulled out of this place before about four times now and positively hope I pull out once more. It’s like having the lives of a cat. I’m not sure if it will be five or nine but I’m telling you it gets harder each time. Never the less, I’ve never given up as there seems there may be one more opportunity to be chosen. You just never know what is waiting to happen.

 

 

How's your day, blog 109 Paper Back link

How’s your day? Blog 109 the Paper Back

© Peter A Taylor, Thursday, May 16

 

As promised I have the link to the paper back of the collection of ‘How’s your Day’.

 

https://www.createspace.com/4272144

 

55,000 words of inspiration, entertainment and snippets into my life share an interesting point of view. Written by me, vision impaired and profoundly deaf, these blogs take you with me over the past two year’s .Written from the beginning, when my sister kept asking

‘How do you do this ’and ‘everyone wants to know how you are.’

To travel with me on the world’s first experience to try and cure Leishmania, the parasite that is killing me.

So grab a cuppa, sit up in bed or by the fire and read. This is ideal for those who like to feel the book between their hands, smell the print and not deal with technology.

I would love it if you place a recommendation on the create space site once you have read it. The book will not be available through Amazon for at least a week. You are directed to my shop.

This little gift will bless your friends who need a lift of positivity.

Go direct to the shopping cart and order.

 

https://www.createspace.com/4272144

 

It’s been a hell of a week with no energy to pull the skin off a rice pudding.

My dear friend planted my garden with seed potatoes, and 9 rows of winter veggies, all ready for the rain forecast for tomorrow.

We will be awash in Turnips, cabbage, Cauli, broccoli, celery, carrots, and more with Marigolds planted at each row for pest control.

 

thank you for passing on this great news.

Enjoy your read.

 

My collection of 101 blogs of How's your day ? now on Kindle

How’s your day, Blog 108, 101 blogs on Kindle

© Peter A Taylor, 10, May 2013

 

101 blogs on Kindle for Amazon, A collection of how’s your day? Blogs.

 

From the first blog to the end of the experiment, over two years of snippets into my life, are now available on Kindle.

For the cost of ¾ of a cup of coffee, you can laugh, be inspired, agree or disagree with social comment and provoke your mind set. In a few more days this little book of 55,000 words will available as a paper back from creates Space for Amazon. This will be a great little gift to bless someone with who needs a positive look at life.

The link to go straight to by a copy of this little beauty;

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CNJ5DBC

 

For those of you have read some of my blogs and enjoyed, you can now have a collection for yourself and a ready gift for others.

If you like my collection of blogs, I’d appreciate you leaving a recommendation on Kindle.

 

I am feeling better today and thank all of the great messages of support. Two of my fat caterpillars have set to chrysalises and the other two are munching away as full as a fat boys sock. In a few days these fat tasty grubs will become stunningly beautiful and fragile butterflies. May they make it back to the Northern Hemisphere for the summer?

 

Here is another opportunity to link to my collection of blogs.

Happy reading

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CNJ5DBC

 

Please pass this on to your friends and contacts who would enjoy its collection.

Thank you.

How's your day? blog 107 Not all beer and skittles

How’s your day? Blog 107, not all skittles and beer

© Peter A Taylor

I write to share with you how my day is going from a request by my sister over two years ago. Her friends asked how I am and how I keep doing what I do. For those of you have read some of my blogs , they are comments and snippets of my life as I travel the terminal health route and on the way lost my hearing and 80% of my sight. The strange thing is, I continued to live.

 

I understood my role as a writer was to inspire others as this seemed to be the genre I had fallen into by default.

 

My speaking presentations focused on what you can do and not what you can’t  and of course I can’t change my circumstances but I have the choice to change my attitude.

 

Through the past 17 years of constant treatment, being poked at , bits cut off and used as a lab rat, I’ve maintained my ability of resilience to stay positive.

 

My wellness is a full time job and one must be diligent not to let negatives creep under doors or slide in through window cracks. It is most important to avoid depression even when became profoundly deaf and communicated by touch. The vortex will suck the humanity from your very soul.

 

This week my return to the hospital for my 3 doses, one a day proved as tough as usual. A toilet before leaving the house was painful and on arrival at the hospital I had a pinched hernia in my groin. Oh stink, A bit of morphine and a relaxant later, the offending intestine was pushed back behind my abdomen wall and yes, the surgeon agreed it should be operated on. A good result.

 

The next morning as I settled into my windowless room to begin my treatment , yet another blood sample was required. My central port would not produce so I agreed to use my arm. As the nurse prepared to stick me, my face creased and I placed my palm over my eyes as I began to cry silently.

          ‘Oh Donna, what have they done to me,’ I cried in a tired weak voice.  both

Wrapping my other hand in both of hers, so warm and comforting, I regained my composure quickly. This nurse is one of several who have treated me over the last 11 years.

It was a sign I am emotionally and mentally exhausted.

The Registrar arrived and requested the blood for a cross match as my cants were low and I need a blood transfusion. Oh how simple as this explains my set of being. I’m just worn out from the struggle to make the best of what I’ve got. On the final day of treatment now dose 913; the fresh blood followed giving me some colour to my face.

 

As much as I press on in this unknown and uncharted territory I try my best to remain positive, active and productive. It’s not all beer and skittles. I am forever grateful and we thanks each day to my partner for unconditional support and love, the reason why I continue to live.

 

To finish on a brighter note. Checking my garden after the last storm was a surprise. This summer I planted two Swan Plants to attract Monarch Butterflies. All summer I saw them visit my garden but no one sat on my plant. Yesterday I noticed one of the plants had blown over. As I righted it, I noticed the other was severely eaten. To my delight I have four fat striped caterpillars hanging in the rain on tee one bush. Pushing the other into the eaten one will give more chance for the caterpillars to get to the correct size and grow into the astonishing beauties that we all love and admire.      

 

How's your day? blog 106 Coromandel to the Gold Coast

How’s your day? Blog 106, Coromandel to the Gold Coast

© Peter A Taylor, 30 April 2013

With his wave board under his arm, Rodney strode into the calm pristine water of the inland harbour. It was our last day of our break, the Tuesday after Easter.

‘Another day in paradise,’ I said with a warm smile of gratitude.

‘Yes, today I’ll go back and drift silently to hear the water swirl against the rock wall and the Tui song as the Pohutakawa are full of them today.’ Rodney sat astride his board and glided into the warm crystalline water.

 

Dozing in the sun under my straw hat seemed like the world was miles away and I wasn’t sick in this dream land. I’d swim like a fish and perch on the point looking into the magnificent ocean as centuries of myths and legends drifted over my feathers.

 

It was time to eat and now in Cooks Beach nothing was open except the beach store and she’d run out of pies. We headed to the next point, passing Flax Mill Bay, stopping to take photos of the sand. It is yet another little sheltered bay nestled behind a large headland where tracks from tractors launching boats were the only intention that people lived here.

 

It was over the hill and to the ferry crossing. A ferry trip to Whitianga only 200 meters across the inlet saves a car journey of 45 minutes to get to by land.

‘Two return tickets, please,’ I asked and offered my $10 to the old seafarer who piloted our little boat to the opposite shore. The jewel of the Coromandel, Whitianga has a population of mostly retired folk of 4,000 people. Surviving on the tourist trade and upmarket beach homes, this area swells to 40,000 during the season.

 

We approached the local museum as it promised relics of Kauri Gum fields, loads of ship memorabilia and information about Captain Cook. To my surprise the volunteer lady, short and generous of body and personality with black rimmed glasses, looked over her spectacles.

‘That will be one senior and one adult.’ She smiled a tourist sort of smile, putting out her pudgy hand to take my money.

I’ve never been called a senior before but did appreciate the concession entrance fee. We walked through a replica Kauri workers hut, saw rooms of settlers and half a ship, well the back end of the ‘Endeavour’.

 

We stumbled on to a lovely wooden pub with a water feature filled with scarlet Carp and walked over the bridge to order icy beers. While waiting to take our boat ride home after the cruise to the outer coast line, it was back to the pub while the Ferry Driver had his dinner break.  Slightly wet from the wade in the long shallows from the shore shelf, we indulged in Potato wedges and sour cream with beer inferno of the outdoor open fire place.

 

One day at home to repack and I left to visit my Mother in Surfers Paradise for her 83^rd birthday. What a treat to also see my younger sister and my Aunts, Uncle and cousins. It was a farewell lunch as all the seniors are ill with all sorts of things and I was not feeling too sharp myself.

 

On the tenth floor of the Golden Gate Building, overlooking the famous Surfers Paradise beach with the surf crashing loudly and little Rainbow Parrots perching on the balcony hand rail looking for tit bits, was a treat. Whatever window I looked from there was a view of the Hinter land, or giant palms from the neighbouring High Rise gardens and swimming pools for Africa.

 

One thing about living on the tropical coast is the fruit. Giant golden Paw-Paw as sweet and juicy served with Prawn’s as fast as your thumb and crunchy as lettuce, made a salad with spinach leaves, Coriander leaves and slices of Cucumber drizzled with fresh limes. What a delicious taste sensation like real holiday experience.  NZ grilled Salmon for dinner, chicken and seedless grapes were the food I loved to graze upon. My family had done be proud.

 

To my delight I met my grand niece, an animated well mannered 9 year old and my grand nephew is now 12. They will remember me now as they are old enough.

 

This Gold Coast trip was a point of closure and significant. I caught up with my lovely sister for the entire time as she is Mum’s care giver. We sat on the famous beach one day having an early morning coffee. Since the last cyclone, the beach had been swept away and instead of walking on to powder sand, we plunged down a three meter drop with walls of sand held only by Mari grass.

 

Walking into the surf as waves crashed out a few meters away the water at 24 degrees Celsius was sheer heaven. We stood in the shallows splashing water up our arms and holding our shorts legs up from the surge of foaming water. Again the sandy bottom was clean. If I had more strength I’d have loved to languish in the waves as I have done on this beach on and off for many years. It was time to board my plane and come home in time for more treatment. I had not recovered from the previous treatment but I guess I will work this out over the next three weeks

How's your day? Blog 105, Hostage to Health

How’s your day? Blog 105 Hostage to Health

© Peter A Taylor, Monday 22, April 2013

My new blogger .com address is http://peterataylor.blogspot.co.nz. This is the last day you will find me on Posterous.com.

 

Driving toward Cooks Beach on Easter Monday  invited us to look upon flat and well managed Dairy farms, The Mercury Bay Vine Yard  and very little else, that is until you round the bend and over 300 holiday homes of various sizes fill the vista.  Cooks Beach is another long stretch of paradise, calm waters and a head land at each end.  The southern end of the beach with a narrow channel opened into the serene waters of an inland harbour. Children were swimming over pristine sandy bottom, the water about waist height and warm for 5- meters. Hosting a myriad of fishing boats of all sizes, the narrow channel took the boaties past the iconic Pohutakawa drooping to the water and one claiming a large rope from which children were swinging into the crystal clear water.

 

This area was named when Captain Cook   discovered while searching the area to view the ascent of Mercury, the constellation. A phenomenal feat when his only instruments were sexton and stars to guide him. This event only occurs every 140 years or so (Google to get the correct info). Hence the area is called Mercury Bay and this beach is where the ‘Endeavour’ his ship anchored to trade with the local Maori.

 

This Idealic curve of the harbour invited Rodney to use his wave board and paddle for further investigation. Lying on the sand I caught a few rays and rested under my large straw hat. My energy had not yet returned as expected.

 

Hearing the soft splash of the paddle and with one eye open, Rodney slid his red board from the water onto the sand.

          ‘This place is remarkable. The harbour is huge. I past a boat ramp with a house sited among sprawling Oak and Pohutakawa  with a view of the bush on one side and the beach on the other.’ Drying off in the sun, Rodney spent with excitement and exercise, I watched the kids jumping from the rope through my binoculars.

 

          ‘This is how I remember growing up as a kid in Napier, playing and swimming on the beach,’ Rodney smiled at the memory.

          ‘My experience was similar except my beaches were up in Northland and the Whangarei Heads,’ I answered.

 

The only two places to eat in Cooks Beach is ‘So Vino’, the local wine bar with an outdoor garden or the local get a bit of everything sort of shop for a pie and a liquor off licence. The take-away was not open.  We bought two lamb pies from the shop and decided the local cafe wine bar would be our coffee stop. 

 

The coffee was bitter. As we sat with a grimace we looked at our surrounds, the garden.  We both came up with the same ideas that this space would look fabulous with lights around the giant palms, a smart flower garden, and pull out the gone –to-seed herb garden and dump the cane table with the hole in it. We had the expertise to make this; the only bar on the eastern Coromandel a hit during the season. This opportunity is ideal business for a couple with one being the cook and employing local staff during the season. There was room and potential for outdoor entertainers under the three sails. Once ticked up this little place would hum. It probably is the choice of many on the coast during the season. Sadly we had arrived at the end of the tourist time when passion was spent. However while we finished our coffee 4 couples and a set of parents with two little children all ate and drank wine.

 

Then like a slap up the milking side, reality hit me. Sitting on the op shop outdoor sofa, so wide my short legs couldn’t touch the ground, I remain hostage to my health. Here I am sitting with weak limbs trying to recover from treatment and hostage to the hospital every three weeks. A great opportunity ruined by reality.

 

The redeeming factor was the extremely high standard of the photographic exhibition on the inside walls. A National Geographic photographer friend of the owner exhibits during the season.

 

The last of the dusk sun squeezed out from behind large ominous clouds turning our sky into a 15^th century Christian renaissance painting. This spectacular back drop was the sign to head back to our sanctuary when the majority of other campers moved on or returned to the city to start work the next day. The heavy dew bought with it the deep bush fragrance I loved from my childhood when growing up on dairy farms. The time had come to savour a gin and tonic and to discuss our successful day.

 

                                                   

 

 

 

How’s your day? Blog 104, more Coromandel

© Peter A Taylor, 19, April 2013

 

 

 

My new blog address is http://peterataylor.blogspot.co.nz

 

 

Putting on my magnets (my cochlear implants) I delight in the glamorous birdsong of the Tui, about the size of a black bird. This nectar feeding beauty with  a long curved beak ,sleek blue / black  is identifiable by the two fluffs of white feathers at its throat. Previously called the Parson Bird due to these white wattles were plentiful among the bush surrounding our camp site. Already warm at 8 am this would be another hot day.

 

Over 700 people had invaded the camp site by Easter Saturday. For sanity if one needed an excuse, we ventured to the Hot Water Beach shop for a Flat White Coffee. The jury is out on how good it is but miles from a cafe on a windblown beach, it beat the daylights out of instant substitute.

 

The slob of the shop, a large red Labrador cruised to stare at us looking for a tasty morsel. Clearly a cup cake or end of a sausage roll was not falling from the generous table. So what’s a fellow to do? Next trick is to roll over on his back , legs both front and back spread , exposing his bulbous tummy for a good old scratch. He looked like the sort of old Codger who frequents the Returned Services Club. Chortling with mirth making his multiple chins wobble, entertaining stories of dubious credentials all for the wish of a free beer. Moving from table to table his standard operating practice was finely tuned.

 

Opposite this display of shameless behaviour, is the only Art Gallery in the area. We love art, especially outdoor sculpture. Crossing the empty road we entered the world of Moko Art, www.moko.co.nz . Breathtaking was my first response. From the corner of my eye, among a group of Bromeliaeds, red ceramic flowers on steel rods appeared to belong to these alien looking plants.

 

Koru stems again ceramist, (young fern fronds still curled at the tips) sprung from the white stoned pathway. A group of stainless steel Stingrays suspended on rods appeared to swim across the sleeper posts and white gravel, ready to settle under the great glass bird bath hosted on a huge piece of sleeper. Among the two meter high steel cacti, ceramic depictions ranging in height of up to two meters stood powerful Nikau Palms. Indoors was an amalgam of extraordinary art prints, jewellery made from cutlery with the dessert spoon cut in half to make wings of a beetle and curved forks for legs. Jewellery, exquisite blown glass bowls and vases, semi precious gems and much more took our delight for over an hour. Another room displayed original art paintings, miniature wooded surf boards of stunning grained woods and unique walking sticks on lace wood with deer antler handles. This gallery grown in a mature garden of Dragon trees, huge Nikau Palms, succulents and fragrant Daphne and Gardenia bushes enhanced the display of unusual and unique pieces of sculpture. Mokau Art became the highlight of the art on offer for the eastern Coromandel.

 

Avoiding the other travellers, we made our way to the closest beach called Ha Heir. My first time on this coast line was a triumph as we drove to a classic scene of safe turquoise coloured water in a half moon shaped bay  on a hot cloudless day . All this landscape of natural beauty is framed by the headlands and Pohutakawa. Rodney found a magnificent piece of drift wood to carve a new walking stick or Druids staff. I remained sitting near the shore line, sifting white fine sand through my fingers and absorbing the Ozonated air from the gentling lapping wavelets as Rodney climbed rocks for wood and photo vantages.

 

Food was not as available as city slickers like. We searched in Ha Hei village shop but the Pies were gone. To my seafood fancier delight I found the best Mussel Fritter ever in the ice-cream shop, come taka way. Rodney was satisfied with a fresh frozen berry crushed into an ice-cream. With our bellies full, our tan factor complete, it was time to return to the camp for an afternoon restorative Nana nap  and follow with the delightful and tasty Bombay Sapphire Gin and Tonic.

 

The posterous site is closing on the 30th of April. This is my new address
My new blog address is http://peterataylor.blogspot.co.nz