The Weekly: Time
The Weekly – 13th February 2017 I’ve been obsessed with time these past two weeks. Things that are happening in the present are reminding me of the past, and the ghosts lurking behind [...]
The Weekly – 13th February 2017 I’ve been obsessed with time these past two weeks. Things that are happening in the present are reminding me of the past, and the ghosts lurking behind [...]
The Weekly – 30th January 2017 Last week beat me up. I pulled off my two deadlines, and my editors are pleased with the stories, which is a crushing weight lifted. I never appreciate how [...]
The Weekly – 23 January 2017 It’s our two-year anniversary of living in Wanaka! I first stumbled across this tiny alpine town with my sister Erin, while on my first assignment for National [...]
The Weekly – 17 January 2017 I’m not good at being still. I never have been. Whenever my life is quiet, peaceful, routine, I do something to rattle that cage. I’m not sure if I [...]
The Weekly – 10th January, 2017 For the first 10 years I lived in New Zealand I wrote an email blog for close family and friends. I called it The Weekly. As I was completely absent from [...]
Not too long ago I had the privilege of attending an elegant dinner with my fiance, Chris. It was an evening I was very much looking forward to, although I always feel out of place at these [...]
I’ve never written about 9/11. I can usually avoid thinking about it, until I turn the calendar page to September. My eyes always go to the square with the 11th first, until I tear my eyes [...]
My entire nature rebels against routine. I want to be spontaneous, unfettered, free. But there’s a strong part of me that craves routine (much to my chagrin). The profession (and therefore [...]
Yesterday I returned from a week in the Marlborough Sounds, a week after I returned from spending a month in the States. The Sounds was an assignment for a magazine, writing a piece on hiking, [...]
I love books. I don’t just mean the stories; I love actual books. I find them bewitching: their weight in my hands, the creak of the spine as they’re opened, the musty smell, the gentle swish of [...]