112 – Pickled love
My kitchen is a mystical place, a kind of temple for me. It is a place where the surfaces seem to have significance, where the …
My kitchen is a mystical place, a kind of temple for me. It is a place where the surfaces seem to have significance, where the …
Mid-morning protesters drew me out to get my shot of the day. Turned out to be quite fun for me – I caught up with …
Food businesses of one kind or another have been a signature trade of the few members of our family that immigrated to New Zealand. My …
There’s been open air markets here in Wellington probably since the first humans arrived. More recently – in the last couple of years – as …
I listened. I started to sing along. I had to move. I was taken back to the days when I was supposedly young and carefree. …
I think the Pohutukawa is New Zealand’s expression of the heart. I know the more typical view is that it is the NZ xmas tree. …
“Would you like a strawberry,” asked a colleague. At the same time placing in front of me a punnet full of red luscious berries. Who …
American families have always shown remarkable resiliency, or flexible adjustment to natural, economic, and social challenges. Their strengths resemble the elasticity of a spider web, …
Some people have the gift of Christmas spirit while others don’t. We’re all aware of it and we all tend to know when it’s absent …
Don’t it always seem to go That you don’t know what you’ve got ‘Til it’s gone — Joni Mitchell – Big Yellow Taxi There’s a poignancy in loss …
Monthly Archives: December 2009