Heather & Rod's Amazing (& Not So Amazing) New Zealand Adventures

“You’re gonna have to kill him,” were the words I uttered to Rod as we watched Charlie lying on his side, barely moving and breathing erratically. We had gotten attached to him in the last day or two. Our ‘relationship’ started two weeks prior . . . It was a sunny day. I was sitting on the couch and looking outside the window when I noticed Pele The Cat ‘flirting’ with something in the backyard. I knew he was flirting - - he was flicking his tail and rolling on his back and casting his wide eyes at something in the grass not too far away. I went to inspect. A baby hedgehog was the love interest apparently. Freaked out by small, wild animals (wha, huh, do you even follow this blog, people?) I didn’t get too close. But I had to admit he was a bit cute. He was only as big as my hand and slow as a snail, so I wasn’t too worried about a vicious hedgehog attack. As the days went on, I got used to seeing Charlie skitter across the yard. He seemed to be happy slowly meandering around th

It was 2am and my parents, our friend Virginia, Rod and I were fast asleep on Kawau Island in our friend’s beautiful bach. Such an idyllic spot, I could never have imagined the night time scenario that was about to unfold. . . I’m known to be a light sleeper and was awoken by the sound of bottles clanking together as if someone were rummaging through the empties. Below our bedroom is the rubbish bin, and I immediately thought of racoons in the garbage back home in America. No racoons here, but possums are equally leftover lovers. I had to go investigate. I venture down the two steps that lead to the kitchen and the side door and see the door has accidently been left ajar. I pull it shut without a further thought and turn on the outside light. As I squint to see if there are possums licking spaghetti and tuna tins, I hear the rattle of bottles coming from just behind me. I swing around to see the pantry door is open and in the corner where all the liquor bottles sit is something

“This is Roving Reporter, Aech Kleicombe, live (online), reporting from downtown Hamilton, New Zealand. "I am reporting tonight on a little-known-crisis that is threatening homeowners in this city with a shortage that is predicted (by myself) to rival the proportions of last century’s great oil shortages in the 1970s. “I have been researching this crisis for some time and, although I do not want to panic the city’s homeowners, I do feel it is my duty to report the facts. Just the facts. “My colleagues and I have been growing increasing panicky as we’ve searched city-wide for what one would assume is a common household item. Yes, that’s right, the all-too-familiar and unexceptional white pillow case. “And, it’s important to note, readers, that this is only the white pillow case. There is no need to panic if you need ecru, ivory or taupe. No, it is only the WHITE pillow case. Something so incredibly common that homeowners have been able to purchase them since the dawn of the t