Dear Sister,

I love that you are in love, that you are happy, that your dreams are coming true, that your day was as close to fairytale endings as it gets.  I now dispense with things I often leave unsaid (though I believe you know already; I do not underestimate the divinity of sisterhood...)

I love that you invent your own cupcake flavours and kindly enforce the sampling of them, your fierce love of chocolate, your culinary successes (and hilarious misadventures), your passion for new found flavours and experimentation.

I love that you tell me how it is, or the way to wear it or what to do and when to do it with pin point accuracy and unfaltering honesty, straight up but sensitively, understanding my inhibitions and inexperience.

I love that, despite our different styles, tastes, loves and loathes, we laugh uncontrollably at the very same stuff that no one else gets (which leads to more uncontrollable laughter and further confusion to those unfortunate few in our vicinity).  I'd say its a vicious cycle but its not.  It's beautiful and I love it.  Lets never, ever stop.

I love that we are close.  So close.  (Geography, Schmeography).

I love that I was there with you.  That I was privileged to watch, as you embarked on this new and exciting adventure.  That I saw two people so in love and embued in happiness it was inspiring.  (And perspiring come to think of it.  It was hot up there, in front of all those people, wasn't it J? Love you too).

Thank you for the most awesome day.

I loved it.

(As I love you).

Yours truly,


Dear Chocolate Self Saucing Pudding,

I fear that our relationship is a somewhat unhealthy one.

We've been spending a lot of time together lately and I fear its just too much too soon.  Would you consider some time apart? It's just I dont want us to get sick of each other, and ruin a beautiful thing.  (It really is beautiful).  You make me feel so incredibly good, yet so unbelievably bad and all at the same time.

Oh what am I saying?

It's not you.  It's me.

I love you.
('til Sunday...)

Yours truly,


Street Statements

Taking it to the street.

1. Barcelona
2. Paris
3. Amsterdam
4. Berlin
5. Melbourne
6. Granada
7. Oxford
8. London


Dear Richard,

We havent been spending much time together lately.  It's hard with the weather being so unfriendly.  Winter's come one month early with it's cohorts wind and rain.  It's just so cold outside, so I've been taking the bus a bit.  And Sam's been driving too.  I hope you understand.  While its fun sitting snug inside while the rain hits the glass and I get lost in my latest love (a book, a song, an imaginary life), it's just not the same without you.

Do you know how special you are to me?  When I get to missing London all I do is visit you.  I fix your flowers and remember our times spent by the canals and cobbled streets, in the sun and snow, with our friends or just the two of us.  Getting up to mischief.  Wandering.  Exploring.  Dreaming.  You know it's summer over there.  It's been more than a year since we left.

Winter has its own beauty though.  The leaves are rather beautiful.  Amber, red and burnt pumpkin, shades of rust and lemon, tossed together, strewn about like the remnants of some bygone celebration.  And what better excuse than a rainy day for cups of tea and crafting?  A trip up the mountain's on the cards too. 

Still, with winter being in charge now, with essays and readings and coffee making, reaquainting myself with needles and threads and planning winter weekends away, I haven't forgotten you.  I wanted you to know that. I think about you lots.  I've got plans for us, don't worry.  Tremendous, extraordinary, spectacular plans to get lost in, once winter's melted away.  We'll go searching for the wonderful.

And I promise, next time the sun comes out, we'll spend the day together.  Just you and me and Christchurch, the broken and the beautiful.

Yours truly,



Oh To Be Back...

It's Glastonbury time in the UK (much to my dismay).  The four days I spent at Glastonbury back in 2009 were amongst the best in my life.  If only I could live there, in that crazy mixed up circus of awesomeness, with tripsters and teepees, mud and music, sun and strangers, and dancing in the dark (literally.  Bruce Springsteen played.  Epic.  And Neil Young? Don't get me started - dream come true.)  Apparently the powers that be are putting the festival on hold for 2012, due to Britain's Olympics Extravaganza.  So...2013 anyone?  I'm SO keen... Here are a few snaps I dug out of the vault (read: hard drive in dire need of organisation) to aid in my moments of reminiscence...

Time of my life.