Gathering for our last meal together in the whare kai, nothing managed to savage my tastebuds more than the errant tendrils of the cooked hangi smells now wafting from the kitchen into the small dining room. It had been 17 years since I last ate hangi on home soil and now
One of the loveliest stories told during the mihi and whaikororeo was by Aunty June about Nama’s Pond’s Cream. The story of Ponds “began when Theron T. Pond, a pharmacist from Utica New York, introduced ‘Pond’s Golden Treasure’ in 1846, a witch-hazel based
I like that the older you get the less you have to work at getting every other man and his dog to appreciate that fact. It’s like the imperceptible manner in which seasons change their leaves, over time we know it will happen and therefore we are less likely to stand in its way when
I love the sound of the wind as it ruffles the leaves in a tree; it can sound like the sea, the way it [the sea] whips across the top of the waves, catching its breath on the tips of waves full to bursting with glee as they race toward the shore. It’s a sound […]
It’s been balmy and blustery over the past few days but I never seem to mind the wind when it’s warm. I must say though that when it’s blustery some unknown something takes hold of my sensibilities and blows them all out the window.
I like that the older you get the less you have to work at getting every other man and his dog to appreciate that fact. It
“Let us choose our companions along the way wisely and well, for we journey but once and need at our flanks moles who have it truly in their hearts to help us to that place we lost …”
Autumn has a way of softening the human heart like no other season. It’s a time in which there is a quiet, unobtrusive turning over of the heart’s soil and despite those seemingly modest machinations, we are left in no doubt a difference has been made, deep in our soul. How?