New Gumboots

That’s not a metaphor. I actually have new gumboots. In an ironic situation, until a year ago, we lived on a dairy farm and I traipsed around the paddocks, dodging cow pats and other yucky things in red gumboots with swirls and flowers on them, the pretty kind, designed with a townie in mind. Now we live on what is essentially a large garden in town, where I’m a townie, I have somehow decided the time is perfect to invest in steel-capped, reinforced-sole serious-type gumboots… and they may well be the best thing I’ve brought in ages.

Yeah. I’m so rock’n’roll I’m in love with my protective footwear.

They seem to have given me green thumbs (light green, mind, I’m no… errr… insert famous gardener name here), so I’ve leapt on the chance to plant up a storm… if only I didn’t feel so bad about the worms that have been harmed in the process! That’ll teach them for living in the ground, I suppose.

If you’ve booked me for your wedding, I promise the wellies will stay at home. With the garden. Where they belong. If you haven’t booked me to shoot your wedding yet, why not head over to my website for a peek? It’s a totally gumboot-free zone.

E xx

To my Grandad, on the first day of the World Cup…

It felt like forever away. It was November 2006 and the news was full of the buzz that New Zealand would host the Rugby World Cup in 2011. I could care less about watching the games themselves, but I did spend plenty of time yarning to Grandad about the games, the players, the refs, the venues… you name it, we were the experts.

The day it hit the news, our conversation was full of excitement and anticipation and I promised him we’d go to the final together. I had previously promised to take him and Grandma to Disneyland, I suspect because I wanted to go (I was about six), but this time it really seemed like something I’d have time to save for and we’d all enjoy.

Now, it feels like forever ago that we shared that excited call… Grandad was already sick at the time, but we were both stubbornly refusing to consider anything would beat him.

He’s the first person I lost who left a big hole in my life and even though it’s been over four years, there’s still a gap where he should be.

Tonight, it all starts, the world will be watching and so will I. With plenty of excitement and a touch of sadness – there’s no way I would wish him back for even a second more of ill health, but there will always be a part of me that would give anything, absolutely ANYTHING, to have a ticket to the final with Grandad.

E xx

Cold feet? No thanks.

When I was much younger and living at home, Dad would always growl at me for sitting right in front of the fire, “you’re as bad as the cat!”, he would grumble, before urging me to at least put some more wood on to maintain the toasty warmness I was hogging.

I won’t deny it, I love being warm or even hot… bed, the shower, in front of the fire: they’re all places I prefer not to leave, especially lately when proper winter has descended… and boy did it arrive with a thoroughly chilly and white fanfare last week! The teensy bit of snow that fell at my house did so while I was out and didn’t even have the decency to stick around – I suppose that’s one of few downsides of living sorta close to the sea.

While I do love to be warm, the cold makes me very happy too, because it ultimately leads me back to being warm! There’s the obvious fabulousness of winter coats, but the other, slightly more hard-work perk is this one:



I feel all cosy and warm just looking at that… plus the fire is roaring again. Obviously.

Stay warm,
E xx