I’ve struggled over the past 6 months to actually know what to say here. Our city has been devastated by a series of seismic events over the past year and our lives have been irreparably damaged. We’ve lost our home, our relaxed lifestyle and our ability to sleep at night. Some days I want to spill the pain and destruction and grief into these pages just to get it out of my system. Other days I want to make light of it and tell jokes to show that I’m not beaten yet. But most days I don’t want to talk about it. I know most of the country is over hearing about our earthquakes. I know I’m over living them. So onwards and upwards, that’s all I’m going to say about Sept 4 and Dec 26 and Feb 22 and June 13.
I still love reading and writing and poetry. Thrifting and crafting and rescuing things that deserve to be loved. New potatoes and sun-warmed apricots and freshly-baked sourdough bread. Sunrises and wild seas and the smell of the Canterbury countryside in summer. If I was dropped blindfolded at night into the midst of it, I would still know exactly where I was.
Glendore, Winter 2003