hurricane veg

“Blegh,” I mumbled through a mouthful of soft, garlicky braised kale. “Who wants to eat cold, raw veg in the dead of winter?” Across the table, the Man nodded his head ponderously in… Continue reading

confession

This weather triggers three things: 1.  introversion 2.  plaintive songwriting 3. the visceral urge to make sticky toffee pudding thrice weekly.   How is winter pushing your buttons?    

white noise

Twas the night before New Year’s and all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. We partied from sundown to mid-evening only — by 9:30pm we were crumpled… Continue reading

bubble-wrapped lovers

I have a new beau! Truth be told, we’ve known each other since I was 10. But if you peeled back the bark and cut a cross-section of our relationship, it would be… Continue reading

winterfell

Oh it is ON. Welcome to town, December! Pleased to see ya round these parts again. Exactly one year ago we were packing our bags for a whirlwind traipse across the States to… Continue reading

thanksgiving blues [Spiced Pumpkin & Amaranth Bread]

It was just another Wednesday night around these parts. No turkey and no brine bath. No pies in the oven. No bread proofing. Instead of being jampacked with sweet potato ring and wild… Continue reading

SURPRISE!

I guess I thought I’d be a little more jaded by my fifth Western Hemisphere autumn, but it shocks me still – the way the colour jumps out of the trees and yells… Continue reading

madame dictator

About two weeks into Psychology 101, I found out the official name of my obnoxious and cruel inner critic.  “Super-ego”, Freud called it. “Her Holiness the Dictator of Shoulds” is perhaps a bit… Continue reading

brekkie

The Man and I have odd schedules. Especially this season, with one of us gallivanting around the Netherlands playing shows. So when we have a run of evenings spent apart, we do brekkie.… Continue reading

tuesday night rock

We snap on our lights and set off squinting into the rain, which is sly and invisible in the six o’clock dark. We stop at a red light and lean precariously against a… Continue reading

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