Home again, home again, Diggitty dawg

So six weeks and seven or eight thousand kilometres later, we coast back home to discover:

1. The weather is great but about to get colder. Much, much colder
2. The NZ pension folks are threatening to cut off my miniscule NZ pension if I don't reply to their letter (the one I read February 21st when we picked up the mail the PO had been saving for us) by February 7th. Hard to do, that. But they were incredibly co-operative when I called in a panic. Very chatty as well, which was nice, but probably expensive.
3. The car insurance company is threatening to cease coverage on our shiny (sort of) new convertible if we don't confirm we are still alive and living in the same place. By February 17th. Also hard to do when you get the letter on the 21st. Lucky for us we live in a small town where the insurance rep knows who we are and reinstated the coverage with a smile. 
4. The plants have survived, tho' some just barely -- they were kind of hanging out of their pots pleading and whining.
5. No water or other undesirable substances backed up into the basement in our absence. Which happened once. I don't think the person who was checking on the place that time has quite forgiven us yet.
6. There are no mice in the traps. None. Not one. They're having an easy winter, but perhaps that will change. (See #1)
7. Soft water is awesome. Actually, we already knew this but it's always good to be reminded. Six weeks in the desert does not, repeat, not, make you sanguine about the effects of really hard water on your skin. Think itchy, very, very itchy.

And that's all she wrote. Till next time.