fiskesuppe and kardemummakaka
it’s 10pm and the sun is still up. we’ve eaten well, shared a few stories and swum together
the great noodle run
described as the amazing race meets food crawl, the great noodle run was one of the auckland restaurant month events
hamilton gardens
monday was my birthday, so nic and i both took the day off and did a roadtrip south to hamilton
the weekend that was
matariki rising + the winter solstice
honouring matariki by baking christall lowe’s kūmara cake with orange toffee sauce (served warm
the weekend that was
tax returns + laundry + poetry in unexpected places + mia yeast bakery treats + chicken kottu from a favourite sri lankan curry maker
the weekend that was
waking up friday morning with a scratchy throat and panicing mildly about it being covid (it wasn’t) + wild writing
life on film
returning from travels in lutruwita / tasmania in february* i am intrigued by a bag that's sitting on the
the weekend that was
flying south, wedged in the back row of a tiny plane + a house flanked by steep hills, suburbia and the
sway
I’ve got at least three adventure stories sitting in my drafts folder waiting to be shared with you.
Until
the weekend that was
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Flying south. Love. Communion. Reunion. Celebration. Blood family and found family. The husk of a