You Know You’ve Gone Native When…

We recently visited Houston. It was a whirlwind affair, only two weeks including 2 days travel time each way. Most of the time was spent with family. I needed several hours of baby-holding to fill up my grandma love-tank! There were several special moments, including a walk with Owen to the bus stop and watching him take the bus to kindergarten. I must have taken a thousand pictures during the visit. I am very grateful for digital cameras, which let you delete the “oops” and “almost” moments, resulting in printable pictures to match my beautiful memories. I even squeezed in a quick trip to Tennessee to spend some time with my Dad. His Alzheimer’s is progressing more quickly than any of us would like, but he’s still independent and still remembers his daughter who’s gone off and moved halfway around the world to live in Aw- stray-ell-ya. “How much longer are you going to be there?” he always asks.

We celebrated two years in Perth last November. While our American counterparts were savouring turkey dinners and watching football, Vince had a birthday and we golfed our brains out during the long days that didn’t turn dark until nearly 9:00pm. Since then I’ve noticed – or rather stopped noticing – the differences between Perth and Houston. It was especially evident during this trip to Houston. Here are some examples.

As we were packing for the trip, Vince asked if we needed to take an extra suitcase to bring back some of our favourite foods and spices. “No need,” I said. “I can get everything I want right here.” It’s really true. I’ve found a source for maple syrup, corn tortillas and Ritz crackers. Everything else I just make from scratch, eliminating the need to cram multiple boxes of Betty Crocker Brownie, Jello pudding and Jiffy cornbread mix into my suitcase. And it didn’t seem odd to pack only a few outfits. Australians tend to buy fewer clothes and change wardrobes less often and now so do I. Black top, white top. Black pants, brown striped skirt. Done.

Turning out of the rental car place, we noticed that cars seemed to heading straight for us. Why were they doing this, we wondered? Then it hit us – we need to drive on the right hand side now. Oops. It took a few tries before I could negotiate a left turn correctly. I accidentally engaged the windshield wipers instead of the turn signals at least three times, and I couldn’t believe how fast everyone was driving. They’re all doing 110 and I’m used to 80. The weather is beautiful, and the radio says it’s about 68 degrees. I immediately translate – that’s about 20.


We went shopping and I forgot that they add sales tax at the register here instead of incorporating it into the price of the item. Went to Starbucks and had to ask for an extra shot in my latte. We ate at a restaurant and while the prices were wonderfully low (a family of 6 could eat on what we pay for 2 people), we had to remember to tip the waitstaff. We don’t do that at home. Home – where we live across the street from the zoo and hear the cuckaburras call every morning. Where we look out our windows and see sail boats and swans. Where we drive on the left, drink strong coffee, and think in kilometres and centigrade. When did I cross over?

So we came back with only 1 box of Pioneer biscuit mix and a new pair of jeans. I call friends on my moh-bile (cell phone) and remember to get my shopping done before 6pm. Chicken cooks best at 150 and when we’re feeling fancy we drink wine from a screwtop bottle like everyone else. And I say vive la difference, mate. It’s good to feel like one of the locals. :->



Once Upon a Time

I remember the first time I saw one of my teachers someplace other than at school. It seemed strange… it had never occurred to my seven-year old mind that they existed anywhere other than my classroom. A similar dynamic is true for police officers, nurses and other people who serve the public. An adjacent thought is the difficulty in visualizing people working in a profession other than the one they’re presently in. I bring it up because our friend Reinier falls into that category. Like many (possibly a majority) people in Australia and New Zealand, he chose to learn a trade rather than go to University. He completed an apprenticeship with a local clockmaker and went into business for himself for a number of years. Vince and I got to know Reinier because he is the pastor of our local church. He was called to the ministry in his early twenties, but his love for the chronograph endures. On his days off you will probably find him in his workshop (used to be the garage) or at a flea market, happily searching for his next "prize."

If you didn’t know this about Reinier, you’d give yourself a dope slap (as I did) when you found out because his home is chockablock with clocks, a timepiece in every spare nook and cranny. His family is accustomed to the 3 to 4 minutes of multi-tonal chiming that occurs at the top of each hour. (It’s impossible to synchronize that many clocks – he has almost 100 of them.) They rolled their eyes when I declared it charming: the loud clocks, soft clocks, chimes, gongs, cuckoos, you-name-it, all joining in a symphony of sound. But really, there’s something comforting about hearing the sweep of the second hand and the gentle chime at the quarter hour, a kind of reassurance that someone is keeping track of things for me and the rest of the world.

Two Men, an Idea and a Clock


I can’t count the number of times we have returned home much later than planned because our clockmaker friend and my engineer husband got to talking about pendulums and escapement mechanisms. So it was only a matter of time before my enjoyment of soothing tick-tock sounds merged with Vince’s love of gears and all things mechanical to bring forth an idea: hey, do you think Reinier would make a clock for us? What a great souvenir of Australia that would make! We asked, he said yes, and here are the results.

 

As if having someone you really like make a clock from scratch for you isn’t fabulous enough, the coolness factor took a quantum leap when Reinier invited – no, required – Vince to participate in the project. That’s like asking a puppy if it wants to play :-> We chose a grandfather clock, but it wouldn't be your grandfather’s grandfather clock. It would have a modern twist: it will hang on the wall and have glass sides so we can watch the gears in action. Reinier made sketches, chose the wood, and crafted the cabinetry in his workshop. A note about the wood - it is from the Jarrah tree, found only in Western Australia. It is extremely hard and rather dark. The closest American comparison would be mahogany. Reinier then made each gear by hand and Vince’s role at this point was mostly to watch and learn. After a year of working on it in their spare time, they had a clock!

 

 

  The final task was what Reinier called “deconstruction.” They took the clock apart one piece at a time, placed them in a chemical soup of sorts inside a large “cooker” which heated to quite a high temperature, and vibrated all the while, ultimately removing every speck of dirt, grime or dust. During this process, the ladies were provided an opportunity to share in the excitement. Translation: the fellows were very proud of their accomplishment and wanted to tell us all about it. Reinier’s wife Trudy had the foresight to take lots of photos during each stage, and she graciously shared them with me. Once the parts had cooled down, Vince had the honor of putting everything back together, under Reinier’s watchful eye. I’m sure he bit a hole in his tongue as he allowed Vince to remember, explore and ponder where everything had originally fit. He jumped in occasionally, but the final assembly was done by Vince himself. They allowed Trudy and me to watch them, and once I even got to help fit a small component. I suspect it’s because my smaller fingers could maneuver the tweezer-like apparatus into a very small space. It was a privilege and an honor.

 

About an hour later everything was back together and inside the cabinet. Before you could say grandfather clock they had hung it on the wall and were engaged in final tweaking. We held our breath as Vince cranked it up and set the pendulum swinging. Tick, tock, tick, tock, and woo-hoo! We had ourselves a clock, a grand memory, and a wonderful symbol of our friendship with the Noppers family.

Reinier had a couple of small items to add, like a closing mechanism for the cabinet, so he kept the clock a few weeks longer. The day before Vince’s birthday I invited Trudy & Reinier to bring the clock over, have some cake with us, and give Vince a happy surprise. They

 did, and we did, and Vince was thrilled. Here are some pictures of our awesome clock and the men who made it tick.



Master and apprentice. Notice the number of clocks in Reinier's study.



Finald adjustments to the second hand and minute hand mechanisms.



This is the tricky part. Will everything work after you place it inside the cabinetry?



Adjusting the pendulum. It's quite long, so we'll only need to wind the clock once a week.

Well done, gentlemen!



The Queen is Coming! The Queen is Coming!

Her Royal Highness Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip the Duke of Edinburgh are at this moment winging their way to Western Australia for a State visit. The Queen will officially open the 2012 CHOGM (pronounced "choggum") meeting. CHOGM, which stands for Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting, has brought heads of state from as many as 54 member countries and of course their entourages. The better known members include Canada, India, Bangladesh, Kenya, Malaysia, New Zealand, South Africa, Uganda, many of the Carribean Islands, Nigeria and many other African nations. For a complete list, follow this link. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Member_states_of_the_Commonwealth_of_Nations

Perth feels like the center of the universe, or the police universe anyway. Security is tight and police presence is highly visible.  Streets are blocked off and the airport has been chock-a-block since the weekend. CHOGM 2011 has been billed as the largest ever gathering of world leaders in Australia and the biggest international event to be held in Perth for almost 50 years. There is a feeling of excitement in the air, and many local business are getting a boost - florists, caterers, limousine drivers, hotels, restaurants, and my favorite - fireworks providers. We've been treated to a sparkly show at least 4 times this past week!

CHOGM isn't all that exciting to the average Perthian. Every two years, Commonwealth leaders meet to discuss global and Commonwealth issues, and to agree on collective policies and initiatives. All of this will take place in the Parliament building and other venues which are closed off to the public. They'll have their meetings and finish with a leadership retreat. The festivities begin this Friday, October 28th and last through Sunday the 30th.

Thanks to the publication Perth Now! for these photos of the Queen's arrival in Australia. She began her visit in Canberra, Australia's capital.

The Queen, however, arrives tomorrow, and all Perth is aflutter. 1,000 people are expected to be at the airport to cheer for her. While she is here she will host a garden party on Thursday, attended by invitation only. On Friday she is hosting a "sausage sizzle" (Australian for barbecue) and the whole town is invited. We will be able to see the festivities from our balcony, and that will probably be as close as we get. Over 20,000 people are expected to attend.

Our mahjong group has decided to join in the fun. Since none of us received an invitation to the garden party, we have decided to throw our own! Invitations were sent and on Thursday while the invitees are dining on cucumber sandwiches and tea, we will be partying as well, although I imagine our fare will be slightly more pedestrian than theirs. One little twist : everyone attending our party is requested to dress like the Queen. I have raided my wardrobe for a frumpy dress, sensible shoes and of course, a strand of pearls. I bought a hat and some fancy trim to add to it, and am looking forward to toasting Her Majesty with some of my favorite ladies. Pictures and details to follow on Friday! 

Back in Blog Mode Again

Yes, it has been a long time. We've been on holiday, Mom hasn't been well, and we were without computer for a few weeks. I even thought about giving up on the blog. But I can't let go of this cyber thread that connects me to family and friends. Communication can be difficult - most of y'all are at least a dozen time zones away and your day is my night -- but I can tell you stories here that you can read at your leisure. September was spent living out of suitcases and I've spent much of October recovering from our travel to Kuala Lumpur, Los Angeles and Houston. I've taken enough photos to keep me scrapbooking for at least another 5 years!  Here are some of my favorites.

I was able to get some serious grandbaby-holding time. Ethan was teething and drooled all over my shoulder. I wore it with pride!

Father and son, having the time of their lies and making great memories. 

Granddad and Owen at the arcade.

We celebrated Vince's sister Jeanette's birthday during the Vetter family reunion in San Antonio. Left to right: Jeanette, husband Charlie, Vince, and his sister Carina. Note vintage family photos and diagrams behind Jeanette and Charlie.

Souvenir shop treasures at Santa Monica pier. The smiling starfish with shades caught my fancy, as did the paper clip surfers.

Vince, aka surfer dude, helping Mom choose wigs to wear during chemo. Who knew it could be so much fun?

More blogs are on their way. The Queen is coming to Perth later this week and the town is all a-twitter. There are more police than civilians on the roads, and the city has been spruced up for her visit. My mahjong group has planned a special tea party in her honor, or should that be "honour." Can't wait to share the invitation and photos!  I plan to post more tomorrow. :-> 

Mom's Making Progress

Sometimes I need to take a timeout from talking about Australia and talk about home, family and things close to my heart. It has been a busy few weeks for our family. Mom has made the rounds of her family doctor, radiologist and surgeon, not to mention all kinds of tests in preparation for surgery. Stress test - good. Breathing test - check. Last week she was admitted to hospital for two procedures. The first one involved searching for evidence of any cancer in her lymph nodes, via a very tiny camera inserted via the throat. Good news - nothing in the lymph nodes and the only side effect was some difficulty talking. The following day (Thursday) the surgeon removed a portion of her lung. She spent a little over a week in the hospital, hooked up to various machines which pulled fluid out of the lungs (since the one which was operated on can't do it for itself while healing) She's also using an inhalation therapy machine, which pumps medicine into her lungs, which loosens phlegm which settled into her chest from the surgery. And don't forget the oxygen machine. All this technology... it makes me aware of the amazing number of things our bodies do for us all the time and which we take for granted. It also increases my (already great) appreciation for research and innovation in medicine. Imagine how much slower her recovery would be if her lungs had to clear themselves while in such a weakened state. The surgery itself would probably be as dangerous as the cancer. Such visionaries... I'm in awe.

I am pleased and relieved to report that my mother is home from the hospital and continuing to recover. Her diabetes contributed to her extended hospital stay. She didn't have much of an appetite (it hurt to eat, not to mention trying to negotiate all the tubes and wires), which made her blood sugar levels a bit unstable. Insulin shots helped to smooth those out (another research miracle), and now her task is to maintain a regular eating schedule, rest, and let her body heal.

Mom's surgeon seems to think that chemo will not be needed, but her GP has referred her to an oncologist for his opinion. I'm grateful for that. Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it isn't there. That will take place in a couple of weeks. In the meantime she is receiving lots of get well cards and family support.

I hope to write again soon with even better news. For now, I will end by saying I am extremely grateful to my sister Dianne, who faithfully sends informative emails describing the details of doctor visits, surgery, recovery progress, and easy to understand explanations of the complexities of surgery, disease, and medical equipment. Thank you, sweetie!  Thanks also to everyone who has called, emailed and written their interest and support for me, Vince and especially my Mom. It is appreciated and it is helping. You bless all of us.

Twice a Child

No matter how well you prepare yourself, you're never really ready for the moment when your parents stop taking care of you and you have to start caring for them. This moment has come for my sisters and me. It occurred when we learned that my Mother has lung cancer.

I doubt I'm saying anything new to most of you, but it's my turn to go through the experience. It sure is weird. My parents were barely 20 when I was born, which makes them younger than the parents of most of my peers. I now understand the jittery nerves and breath-holding moments that happen while you're waiting for news from the doctors. How big is the "spot"? What exactly is a PET scan? Will it hurt? And of course, what are Mom's chances of survival? And what quality of life will she have? My Mom was a pack-a-day smoker for 50 years, so this is not exactly unexpected. Still, we all naturally hope and pray that a miracle will happen and Mom will be spared the trauma, pain and ultimate surrender that often accompany this diagnosis.

When my parents divorced my Mom found herself a single mother with 4 little girls under the age of 10, with only enough child support to afford the most spartan of conditions for us. She went back to full-time nursing after a 9-year break, took correspondence courses to update her medical knowledge, and made sure we all did our homework, brushed our teeth and did our chores. She even co-led our Girl Scout troop for a year. Mom's a real survivor, but she fell apart when the doctor told her that the dime-sized spot on her lung that he had been keeping an eye on had grown and it was time to do a biopsy. Sometimes having medical knowledge is a curse -- Mom knew that meant he suspected cancer. My youngest sister Dianne lives about a half-hour drive from Mom. By interesting coincidence they both have the same physician (GP). It has fallen to Dianne to receive the panicked phone calls, sift through the tears and garbled phrases, and communicate the news to her sisters. She has done a fantastic job providing clear and timely information. Thank you, sweetie!

In times of crisis, you learn new things about your siblings. I'm the oldest, so people expect me to take charge in moments like this. But I'm halfway across the world so I can't do it. Geography somewhat dictated our roles, but it's the youngest who has been the most parental. Granted, Dianne has three grown children, so she is probably also the best qualified. The sister I thought could handle it the most easily took the news especially hard. These are good things to know about your family.  Mom's in the no-computer-for-me camp, so I don't have the luxury of Skype, but in lieu of being there I have racked up a few hundred minutes on my cell phone in the past few weeks. Vince and I do our best to make her laugh and get her to talk about her fears. It seems to help.

It has been three weeks since that first difficult conversation. Many others have occurred since then, but yesterday we received the good news. Although the spot on my Mom's lung is indeed cancer, it is encapsulated and the nodule has not metastasized. Tomorrow Mom, Dianne and the doctor will discuss treatment options, which will most likely include surgery followed by chemotherapy. Belt and suspenders, Vince calls it. I wish I could be there.

When Life Imitates Scripture

I am so proud of my husband. Well actually, I'm always proud of him but I'm especially thrilled to be Mrs. Vetter (or Mrs. Vay-tah, as our Dutch church friends say) at the moment.Vince preached a wonderful sermon at church this past Sunday.

I'm not sure who was more surprised to see Vince in the pulpit - himself or the congregation. He has given sermons before, but not recently. So there he was on Sunday, before a rapt audience, telling them all about how Gideon and his army won a victory in spite of ridiculous odds.

We've been studying the book Judges in our weekly Bible study for the past several weeks, and Reinier, our pastor, has been preaching from it for the past month or so. There have been a number of lighthearted discussions about how even scaredy cats like Gideon can demonstrate that when God is behind you, it is possible to overcome anything, even 35,000 warriors. Reinier was planning to preach on the way Gideon used tests to make sure he could trust that God was asking him to do something. Then Reinier caught the "creeping crud" and was unable to give the sermon himself.

Well, now... several months ago Vince let Reinier know that he was available to give a sermon should he ever need someone on short notice. And here was an opportunity. But what timing -- in the middle of a really busy time at work and only 3 days to prepare. But nobody else stepped in to do it, so Vince was our guy. He read and edited, practiced and practiced, stayed up late rehearsing, and I got to hear it a dozen times or so before Sunday. I even got to help -- I pointed out that his description of how the Midianites "had been womping down on Israel for years" might be hard for our Dutch and South African crowd to understand (he changed it to "beating up on") By Saturday it sounded great to me, but of course I am biased.

Sunday came and it was time to deliver. Vince mouthed the words to the hymns but did not sing (if you've heard Vince sing before, you will understand), led the service, and then it was time for the sermon. I had been a little nervous up to this point. The average age of our congregation is around 70 years old, and they are very set in their ways. They like their sermons straight up, their hymns slow and traditional, and they're not very good with change. But there they were, enthralled with this Texan who smiled and thundered in turn, and who brought Gideon's fears, prayers and victories to life. By the end of the sermon you could have heard a pin drop. Afterward, he received many compliments such as "well, you did a lot better than I thought you would." High praise from our church members, and they meant every word!

Vince did a great job. I know it's not just my opinion, because the elders have already asked if he would be willing to give another sermon when the pastor is on vacation. And Reinier joked that he's going to have to acquire a Texan drawl. Good on ya Vince. And Reinier, we're lookin' forward to seein' ya back in the saddle real soon.