Tuesday, June 14, 2011

June 14

It's been a week. Interesting how easy tis, on the one hand, to rabbit on about trivia (and occasionally attempt to insert some gravity, some windy generalisation) and also how the impetus dies and builds, and dies away.
Woke fairly late, in O's bed. Got up slowly- a good sleep, despite the irregular barrage of aftershocks: a little rumble in the distance; the small thump or click or jerk following faithfully. Made coffee- Poppy and Toby interrupted this, with plans for a big egg/bacon/beans breakfast. P and I took coffee back to bed- chatted. Got up and checked over camera gear, packed and headed off, late. Pen wanted me to get diesel, so I had to fill the truck from the tin; took the charger off, checked the oil.
Drove in, listening to the radio. Quake quake quake.
The Emergency Operations Centre was low-key. Lynn asked me to get set up. Found a space and got camera, mic, tripod set up; found ear-phones, checked sound, white-balanced, waited.
Rod came and talked to camera. Good in that broken into sections. but hard: too much isn't know, and decisions still to be made this afternoon. Digitise, then convert the footage- then realise that isn't right (didn't downconvert to 720p), and it needs to be exported as canopus hq. Still seems remarkable what can be done with the HV20, mics, tripod and old laptop- and thence to youtube in HD.
Lengthy waiting: had some lunch; talked to people. I get a strong sense of underlying weariness, accompanied by a feeling that we know what to do, but wish we didn't have to do it again. Cut the talk into sections, add graphics, keys, trim.
John McDonald takes a look and wants the assessment segment up asap. Fairly quick to export and put up on youtube- and I know the process well enough now.
Jacqui talking to him on the lawn; gives me a big hug. Very hard being away from young kids. A little later she takes a look, and we cobble together another clip, and I get it up. Everything a little flat. While it's exporting, try to record some of the ops meeting, but it's very low-key. Chris Hawker is away in the US talking to other universities about emergency planning. Heh.
Get away around 4:40 as the comms team begin to craft the afternoon's key announcements. It looks like the university won't be fully open til Monday 20th. Exams will be able- all going well- to be squeezed in (there were a few on the Saturday.)
Buy some fruit and veg; then the supermarket. You can smell spilt beer in the alcohol corner. The diet coke bottles are sticky with a dried on spray of softdrink. The checkout woman is working flat-out, a little feverishly. Friendly, though. Riccarton Countdown is one of the few supermarkets to re-open quickly after each of the quakes.
Dark as I leave. Get diesel and petrol at the Curletts Rd Shell- they are out of 91. Stop to pick up naan bread at the Indian dairy on Hoon Hay Rd. Everyone cheery, but weary. Little shocks and rumbles don't help.
After some confusion, wrong number, I pick up the joddies and whip Pen bought on trademe, and drive home. A little grumpy dinner isn't started, and there's a lot to unpack and put away. But it all gets done, and Poppy and Toby make butter chicken, and we eat up.
School tomorrow, but probably no work. We'll still have to do the driving.
Play last card with Biddy, who is apparently nit-free, while Julia gets the comb. Hotties, tea, ice-creams, another hand or two of cards. Oscar is reluctant to go to bed- and denies there is school tomorrow. I sit and type most of this, as he eats a last plate of crackers (he had to tidy up the down-stairs pillows to get this) and then a drink, toothbrush, and nods off.
It's 10:58. Pen calls for me to come up to bed. I wonder what I'll think of this in a year; ten years. Probably just forget it. But diarising a week every year or so isn't too daunting. Pen calls again. And so to bed.

1 comment:

Jane Robertson said...

Hi Rob. I've just stumbled across your recent activity. I realise it's by way of private, diary stream of consciousness - but nevertheless interesting to read, especially to capture the impact of yet more aftershocks in the midst of life as (more-or-less) usual. You capture well that sense of weariness - the 'here we go again...'

I empathise with your comments about UC. I left for what feel like similar reasons.

Awaiting snow as I write this. I will look across to the peninsula and wave!