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Eddie & Jolene Eagar - Raine & Horne, Lincoln (2026)

27/09/2026

OUR STORIES ❤️
The moments that made us who we are.

👩‍🏫 I always wanted to be a teacher

If you'd asked little Jolene what she wanted to be when she grew up, there was only ever one answer.

"I'm going to be a teacher.”

As a little girl, I was forever playing school.

I had a small suitcase filled with books and pens, and there was always somebody available to teach, sometimes my friends and, when no willing humans could be found, my dolls had to attend class instead. 😂

Interestingly, both my mom and dad were qualified teachers, although by the time I came along neither of them was teaching anymore.

But somehow that desire was deeply rooted in me.

When I finished school, though, I didn't immediately go to teachers' college.

I chose to give a year of my life to something else.

It was quite literally called “Year of Your Life.”

I spent that year doing Bible study, missionary and outreach work through the church. It gave me time to grow up a little, discover more about myself and think about what I wanted my life to stand for.

And I discovered something that has remained important to me ever since.

I love serving people.

Helping. Encouraging. Teaching. Making somebody else's road a little easier where I can.

After that year, I went to teachers' training college in Pretoria and studied full-time for four years.

The little girl with the suitcase finally became what she'd always said she would be.

A teacher.

I taught a combined Year 1 and Year 2 class and absolutely loved it.

Then Eddie and I decided we wanted to start our family while we were young.

Line' and Jodie came along, and I was fortunate enough to be able to stay home with our girls.

And so my teaching career ended after only a couple of years.

Or at least...

that's what I thought.

Looking back now, I'm not sure I ever really stopped teaching.

My parents had a general-dealer business in South Africa, I introduced a craft range and started teaching craft classes.

After immigrating to New Zealand, I created Eagar Crafters, imported products that weren't available here, travelled to craft shows demonstrating them and taught people how to use them.

When I needed a website and didn't know how to build one, I found one of my brother's computer textbooks...

and taught myself.

When I started a data-entry job and discovered I couldn't type fast enough to keep up...

I did a typing course and learned.

When opportunities opened in finance and I didn't yet have all the knowledge I needed...

I studied.

Sometimes that meant getting up at 3am, while the house was quiet, putting in a couple of hours before everyone woke and then heading off to work.

Eventually that journey took me from data entry to becoming a Finance Manager and Operations Manager for two medical import and distribution companies.

Then came another enormous change.

I left the security of a salary and joined Eddie in real estate.

And before long, we were building a business together again.

So no...

My life didn't follow the career path that little girl with her suitcase imagined.

There have been businesses, motherhood, crafts, finance, management, real estate and plenty of times when I've had absolutely no idea how to do the thing in front of me.

But I've realised something while looking back over these stories.

The teacher never really went anywhere.

I've spent much of my life either learning something...

or helping somebody else understand what I've learned.

And perhaps being a teacher was never only about standing in front of a classroom.

Perhaps, for me, it was always about people.

Learning.
Sharing.
Helping.
Encouraging.
Serving.

The classroom just got a whole lot bigger. ❤️

Our Stories | Eddie & Jolene
The moments that made us who we are.

26/09/2026

⏰ Don’t forget — the clocks go forward tonight! ☀️🌷

Daylight Saving starts overnight, which means we lose an hour of sleep… but gain those lovely longer evenings. 🙌

Before heading to bed tonight, remember to move your clocks forward one hour — although thankfully, most of our phones and devices will do the hard work for us! 😄

Here’s to more daylight, warmer evenings, BBQs, gardening and all the good things that come with spring. 🌻☀️

Spring forward! ⏰➡️

20/09/2026

OUR STORIES ❤️
The moments that made us who we are.

🏅 Comrades at 19 — “I just wanted to know if I could do it.”

When Eddie was about ten years old, he started watching the Comrades Marathon on television in South Africa.

For an entire day, he would watch these people run from one city to another.

And somewhere in that little boy's mind, a seed was planted:

One day, I'm going to do that.

Then, at 19, while doing his military service, Eddie decided it was time.

He was incredibly fit. In the army they were running 2.4 km almost daily, usually in under ten minutes.

There was just one small problem...

Comrades was around 90 kilometres. 😂

By today's ultramarathon standards, Eddie's preparation was probably questionable at best.

He and his army mate Stefan did two 20 km training runs, and Eddie completed the Sun City Marathon to qualify.

That 42 km marathon was hard.

Very hard.

His legs weren't conditioned for long-distance running and he struggled through the final part, finishing in 4 hours 25 minutes.

Naturally, the 19-year-old's conclusion was:

Right. Now let's do more than twice that distance. 😂

On Comrades morning, thousands of runners were preparing for the start.

About 20 minutes before the gun, Eddie's brother Richard asked:

“Aren't you going to warm up?”

Eddie looked at the enormous distance ahead of him and decided:

“No. I'm going to run far enough today. I don't need to warm up.”

Five minutes before the start, he did a little stretching.

That would apparently do. 😂

And then they were off.

Eddie had a plan.

Run the entire first half without stopping.

He did.

At around the 50 km mark, he reached the cutoff with approximately an hour in reserve.

That hour became incredibly important psychologically.

He knew he didn't have to panic.

From there, he broke the rest of the race into tiny pieces.

Run.

Keep running.

Then allow himself to walk 100 metres as a reward.

Start running again.

Another little goal.

Another reward.

And slowly, kilometre after kilometre disappeared behind him.

The race became less about the enormous distance still ahead and more about getting through the next little piece.

During our recent conversation about it, Eddie explained that Comrades wasn't really a race against the thousands of other people around him.

For most of that day, there were only two opponents:

himself and the clock.

He saw people beside the road who couldn't continue.

He watched others struggling.

And all day there was that conversation happening inside his own head.

Where am I?

How much time do I have?

Can my body keep doing this?

Just keep going.

With about five kilometres left, the cramps started.

His one-hour reserve had shrunk.

But by then something else had changed.

He knew he was going to make it.

He could hear the crowd in the stadium.

Then came those final 400 metres.

A tired 19-year-old entered the stadium carrying a dream he'd had since he was about ten.

And after 10 hours and 12 minutes, Eddie crossed the Comrades finish line.

He had done it.

When he talks about that moment now, all these years later, it isn't the physical pain he remembers most.

It's the emotion.

The sense of achievement.

For more than ten hours he'd had to believe in himself, listen to his body, manage his fear and keep moving forward when nobody else could do it for him.

And when I asked him why he never ran Comrades again, his answer was very Eddie.

He didn't need to.

“I just wanted to do it once and see if I could.”

He had his answer. ❤️

That little medal represents almost 90 kilometres.

But I think it represents something much bigger too.

Sometimes the mountain in front of us is simply too big to think about all at once.

So perhaps we don't.

We get to the next little goal.

Then the next.

And the next.

Until one day we look behind us and realise just how far we've come.

Our Stories | Eddie & Jolene
The moments that made us who we are.

13/09/2026

OUR STORIES ❤️
The moments that made us who we are.

🏕️ The sound of our house was laughter

When I think about my favourite family holidays, I don't remember luxury hotels or expensive trips.

I remember camping.

Packing up Eddie, the girls and what felt like half the house and heading somewhere remote.

Sun, sea and sand. ☀️🌊

Days spent out on the boat fishing. The girls flying around behind us on the biscuit. Water-skiing. Sandy feet. Sun-kissed faces. Simple food that somehow tasted better because we were eating it outside.

And then the evenings.

Sitting around the campsite telling stories. Playing cards. Talking absolute nonsense.

And laughing.

So much laughing.

Actually, when I think back on the years of raising Line’ and Jodie, that's one of the things I remember most.

Our girls didn't spend their childhood fighting with each other or slamming bedroom doors.

Instead, we'd hear them somewhere in the house absolutely howling with laughter.

Those uncontrollable fits where one would set the other one off and neither could stop.

That was the sound of our home.

And when we went camping, we simply took that sound with us. ❤️

Looking back now, I realise how blessed we were.

We didn't know while we were living those days just how quickly they would pass.

At the time you're busy packing the car, making food, untangling fishing lines, finding somebody's missing doll and wondering how everything became covered in sand.

You don't necessarily stop and think:

One day, I'm going to miss this.

But I do.

I miss those two little girls.

I miss the camping trips.

I miss the simplicity of all four of us being together with nowhere particularly important to be.

And yet, more than anything, I'm grateful.

Because when I look back at raising our family, the soundtrack I remember isn't shouting or slammed doors.

It is laughter.

And of all the things we could have given our girls, I think a childhood filled with love, freedom, family adventures and an awful lot of laughter is something Eddie and I will always treasure. ❤️

Funny how some of life's richest memories come from the simplest things.

A tent.
A boat.
A pack of cards.
Sun, sea and sand.

And four people with plenty to laugh about.

Our Stories | Eddie & Jolene
The moments that made us who we are.

12/09/2026

🏉 ONE LAST BATTLE! 🇿🇦🇳🇿

Here we go… the 4th and final showdown between the Springboks and the All Blacks in Rugby’s Greatest Rivalry! 💚🖤

The good news? We actually got to sleep through the night this time! 😂🙌

The stakes are high in the Eagar household today… the loser has to cook breakfast! 🍳🥓☕ So there’s a little more than rugby pride on the line. 😜

Eddie is proudly backing his Bokke 🇿🇦 and I’m flying the flag for the All Blacks 🇳🇿.

One house. Two teams. One breakfast chef to be decided. 😂

May the best team win… and may the winner enjoy breakfast! 🏉🤣

10/09/2026

OUR STORIES ❤️
The moments that made us who we are.

There are some dates you never forget.

For most of the world, 11 September 2001 is one of them.

For Eddie and me, the day before is etched into our memories too.

Twenty-five years ago, we were a young family living in Potgietersrus, South Africa.

Line' was still little, I was in the final month of my pregnancy with Jodie, and Eddie worked with his dad, brother and sisters at their family service station.

It was a big operation with 11 pumps, a convenience store and takeaway, workshop and car grooming business.

And in those days, a lot of business was still done in cash.

It had been a long weekend, so when the bank reopened there was considerably more money than usual to deposit.

The bank was literally across the road.

Banking the takings was part of Eddie's job, but because of the amount involved, he didn't walk over alone. Two of the men from the service station went with him.

For some reason, I felt uneasy.

I was heavily pregnant, but I remember saying something along the lines of:

“I'll just drive slowly next to you and keep an eye on you.”

They hadn't walked far when Eddie noticed two men approaching them.

Something didn't feel right.

Then Eddie noticed another man approaching from a different direction.

Before he really had time to react, they were surrounded.

It was an ambush.

The men pulled out guns.

The two people walking with Eddie managed to run in opposite directions.

Eddie was left holding the briefcase.

And for a few moments...

he wouldn't let it go.

He remembers being on the ground, still clutching it, with guns against him.

Then came a moment of clarity.

'They're going to shoot me over money.'

So he released it.

“Here. Take it.”

The men grabbed the briefcase and started running back towards the service station.

Shots were being fired.

Eddie initially stayed down, rolling towards the protection of a nearby vehicle.

And then he saw me.

I had seen enough from the car to know something was terribly wrong.

I made a U-turn and stopped near Eddie.

Everything happened so fast.

Instead of doing the sensible thing...

we went after them.

Looking back now, as parents and grandparents, I want to shake those two young people.

What on earth were we thinking?

I was heavily pregnant.

They had guns.

And they were already shooting.

But there wasn't time for rational thought.

There was adrenaline, instinct and reaction.

Eddie jumped into the car and tried to intercept them, but a wall stopped him.

So he got out.

And chased them on foot.

The getaway car was waiting at the service station.

The men inside were shooting back at us.

I remember shouting at Eddie.

And then I saw him fall.

He hit the ground hard.

But Eddie didn't know he'd been shot.

He thought he'd tripped or fallen badly onto his knee.

So...

he got back up.

And kept going.

One of the robbers was almost at the getaway car when Eddie managed to catch him and pull him down.

The others escaped with the money.

By the time I reached Eddie, he was lying on top of the man he'd caught.

Other people were arriving, and I asked some of the men to hold the robber while we rolled Eddie away.

That's when we realised something was very wrong.

Eddie had been shot through the knee.

There was no ambulance readily available to us.

So with help, we carried him to our car and I drove him to our GP.

The doctor took one look and sent us for X-rays.

Then came the news.

The bullet had gone through Eddie's knee and destroyed his kneecap.

He needed surgery.

The nearest appropriate hospital was in another city, so while trying to arrange care for little Line' letting our families know what had happened and being very aware that I could give birth at any time...

We drove Eddie to hospital.

We had some big decisions to make very quickly.

The surgeon explained our options.

Ultimately, on his advice, we decided against an artificial kneecap. The muscles would be joined instead.

But we were warned that Eddie might never regain full movement in that leg.

And there was a very real possibility that he would never run again.

For someone whose life had always included rugby, athletics, gym and running - someone who had completed the Comrades Marathon at 19 - that was a lot to take in.

But that night, more than anything else, we were grateful.

We were together.

We were alive.

The money was gone.

And suddenly it didn't seem particularly important.

I left Eddie at the hospital that night and went home to Line'.

The next day I returned to collect him.

His leg was encased in plaster from his toes right up his thigh.

We eventually got him home, manoeuvred him into bed and got him comfortable.

I turned on the television and went to make him a cup of coffee.

And then the world changed.

On the television, we watched what was unfolding in New York.

September 11, 2001.

Like millions of people around the world, we sat there stunned.

Our own little family had just lived through one of the most frightening experiences of our lives.

And suddenly we were watching an unimaginable tragedy unfolding on the other side of the world.

I've never forgotten how strange that moment felt.

Our personal crisis became forever attached in our memories to a day the whole world remembers.

But our story didn't end there.

Eddie had a long road ahead.

He worked incredibly hard with his physios.

When he was able, he got into the swimming pool and worked.

And worked.

And worked.

He was determined to get his leg back.

The doctors had prepared us for what he might never be able to do.

Eddie concentrated on what he could do next.

Slowly, his strength returned.

His movement improved.

And eventually...

he ran again.

In fact, unless you knew this story, you could meet Eddie today and probably never guess that a bullet once destroyed his kneecap.

He has been running for years.

And recently, at 56, he completed another 10 km run.

Twenty-five years later, I look back at those two young people very differently.

There are things we did that day that I certainly wouldn't recommend. 😂

But I also see two people whose lives changed in seconds.

We learned how quickly the things that seem important can become completely irrelevant.

We learned how grateful you can be simply to have the person you love beside you.

And we learned something that life would teach us many more times over the years:

We don't always get to choose what happens to us.

The bullet changed Eddie's knee.

It didn't get to decide the rest of his life. ❤️

And 25 years later, that is the part of this story for which I am most grateful.

Our Stories | Eddie & Jolene
The moments that made us who we are.

06/09/2026

OUR STORIES ❤️
The moments that made us who we are.

🏃 “I knew I was fast.”

Some things about us seem to be there almost from the beginning.

For Eddie, one of those things was self-belief.

He has an older brother, Richard, who is about five years ahead of him. Little Eddie watched his big brother going to school, playing sport and competing in athletics…

And he wanted in on the action.

The problem was that Eddie was only five.

Back then in Rhodesia, children generally started school much later. But apparently nobody had explained to five-year-old Eddie that this was a problem he couldn’t solve. 😂

He wanted to go to school.

So somehow, this determined little boy negotiated his way in with the principal and started school at five.

And one of the big reasons?

He wanted to do sport.

But even before he officially started school, something happened that planted a belief in his little head.

In their small town, Eddie was allowed to join a running race with the Grade 1 and 2 children.

They were older than him.

He raced them anyway.

And he won.

From that moment, as Eddie tells it:

“I knew I was fast.”

Not I thought I might be fast.

He knew. 😂

Later the family moved to South Africa and Eddie arrived at a new school. On one of his first days, they were holding athletics trials during break.

The teacher looked at the new little boy and asked:

“Can you run?”

“Ja, I can run.”

They lined the children up on a dirt road.

And Eddie beat them too.

That year his relay team went all the way through to a major athletics meeting, where they finished third.

We were talking about this recently when Eddie said something that made me think about all the years that followed.

“If you have self-belief, life is easier. You believe you can do it. You don’t get so nervous. You don’t think too much about it. You just do it.”

And perhaps that little boy who knew he was fast never completely disappeared.

At 19, he would run the Comrades Marathon.

Years later, after being shot through the knee and being told he might never run again, he would prove that prediction wrong too.

He would start businesses from nothing, walk into places where nobody knew him and ask people to give him a chance, and take on plenty of things without knowing exactly how they would turn out.

Not because he always knew he would win.

But because somewhere deep inside there has always been that little boy standing on a dirt road thinking:

“Ja. I can do this.” ❤️

Our Stories | Eddie & Jolene
The moments that made us who we are.

05/09/2026

Happy Father's Day 💛

05/09/2026

🏉 RUGBY’S GREATEST RIVALRY… EAGAR EDITION! 🇿🇦🇳🇿

Here we go again… Test No. 3 — and this one feels BIG! 😬🔥

It’s just after 3am, the coffee is on, the rugby gear is out and Team Eagar is officially divided once again. 😂

💚 Eddie — SPRINGBOKS all the way 🇿🇦
🖤 Jolene — ALL BLACKS all the way 🇳🇿

After two tests, (1 - 1) there are definitely bragging rights on the line in this house! 🤣

For the next 80 minutes, marriage takes a back seat… IT’S ALL ABOUT THE RUGBY! 🏉

May the best team win… although we clearly don’t agree on who that is! 😜

03/09/2026

🏡 A PLACE TO SETTLE IN AND MAKE YOUR OWN

See yourself starting the day in a beautifully renovated kitchen, enjoying summer afternoons beneath the trees, and having a generous backyard where children, pets and gardens can thrive.

Tucked away in a quiet cul-de-sac, 4 Twynham Place offers relaxed, comfortable living on a spacious 688sqm freehold section. Inside, you’ll find three bedrooms, a warm and inviting living area, and thoughtful updates throughout, including recently new carpets, curtains, light fittings and interior paintwork.

While PAK’nSAVE and convenient bus connections to The Palms and New Brighton are within easy walking distance.

This is more than simply a house, it’s a place with room to live, grow and create lasting memories.

📍 4 Twynham Place, Aranui
📞 Eddie & Jolene Eagar | 027 241 9835
We'll look after you.

Eddie & Jolene Eagar - Raine & Horne

27/09/2026

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