Life after lockdown

Today marks eight weeks since I arrived home from my whirlwind trip to Bangladesh. Two weeks of self-isolation in the spare room away from Mr Weka on my return morphed into a 4.5 week long country-wide lockdown. Restrictions eased into a state of limbo two weeks ago when non-essential businesses were allowed to begin trading again and people rushed out to buy the takeaways they'd been craving for the past month. Today we've entered alert level 2: not so restricted but still not quite normal.

Eight weeks of lockdown has been a surreal experience. It's something we could never have predicted would happen just a few months ago and may never experience on this scale again. People seem to be divided into two camps: those who felt overly restricted, grieving their freedom and craving contact with the outside world versus those who embraced the solace afforded by the safety of a few weeks at home.

As a pair of introverts, Mr Weka and I have actually enjoyed the quieter pace of lockdown. Our single success indicator for the lockdown period was to emerge with all four of our parents still alive. We made it - just. Sure, our businesses have both taken a huge hit, but we'd prefer to weather the storm of several months with zero income in return for the health and safety of our family, friends and wider community. I realise how privileged I am to be able to say that.

The streets are now busy again. I'm in no rush to go out and get a haircut, eat at restaurants and bars or hug crowds of people. I think it will take some time to reduce my heightened sense of caution that resulted from fleeing a developing country at the start of global pandemic. And I know we're not completely out of danger yet.

As for returning to normal, I'm intrigued by the urgency I see. It seems the same people whose wellbeing was threatened by the stresses of living at an unsustainable pace are the ones who have most yearned for a return to the routines they've always dreamed of escaping. Does the desire for familiarity outweigh the stresses of uncertainty? Perhaps. But I don't see much benefit in returning to what wasn't working before.

What would a new normal look like? Is it really possible to create the normal we want rather than settling for the normal we know? Can I keep waking up without an alarm, being super-productive while working from the safety of my home office, cooking healthy meals, baking my own bread and enjoying the luxury of a daily lunch time walk along the beach? Or must I forfeit it all in favour of peak hour commuting on public transport to open plan offices with hot desks, working through lunch breaks then collapsing in a heap at the end of a day or week, all in the name of 'normal'? I know what makes more sense to me. I guess only time will tell.

2019 Ta Da! list

2019 has almost finished and a new year beckons tomorrow along with the promise of shiny fresh starts, hopes and possibilities. Some insist that we're also about to start a new decade and are busy recounting on social media how the last decade has played out for them. Although not technically correct (yes, it depends), I'll play along.

2019 has been an epic year for me. It sped by as I learned and did things I could never imagine this time last year. There were some bumps in the road but overall the good things outweighed the bad this year.

As someone whose To Do lists frequently get the better of me, I've made a Ta Da! list reflecting on 2019. The To Do lists can wait until tomorrow. 

Things I'm proud of

• I fought for something that really matters to me and learnt to make it a priority.
• I've always known that there's nothing more important than whānau and was reminded of this again as we banded together when it mattered most and supported each other through various health scares.
• I started to use my professional voice after keeping it quiet for so many years. This led to professional opportunities that may have previously passed me by. 
• My professional volunteering experience in Bangladesh left me tired, refreshed and overstimulated all at once as I processed what I experienced while well out of my comfort zone. I started learning to look for optimism and hope in adverse conditions and gained a new perspective on life. Giving, giving back and giving forward has led me to take on a role in a professional committee but also to know my limits.
• I said no when someone asked me to do something waaaaayyy beyond my boundaries. I felt terrible about it for ages thinking how I'd let her down, but it turned out just fine and we're still really good friends - because good friends understand and respect boundaries and limits.
• I didn't buy much this year and was more contemplative about what I already have. I'd rather do things instead of buy things with my money.
• I was a Good Bitch 17 times, baking 17 batches of sweet treats for charity recipients, nine birthday cakes and several care packages for friends and whānau.
• I completed this year's Goodreads reading challenge after some sleepless nights finally pushed me over the finish line. Yuss!

Things I've learnt

• My sense of identity is stronger than other people's perception of it. I'm especially proud of this one.
• If contracts are like sprints and permanent jobs are a marathon, then a fixed term role is a half-marathon. You can't run a marathon by sprinting like a contractor. The same goes for life in general.
• Life, misery and exhaustion is not a competition. We're all in different spaces and that's absolutely fine. I've learnt to empathise and support but not be dragged into someone else's negative space just because they're having a tough time.

Things I'm still working on

• Saying yes to people and experiences without taking on too much.
• Managing, protecting and nurturing my energy. Sometimes this involves having ridiculously early nights.
• Pacing myself. I just can't be or do everything I need or want to all the time. 
• Letting go of the shoulds. 

And so I finish the year tired but not completely exhausted, looking forward to a break but energised by the possibilities of doing things (or not) over summer. Bring on 2020!

I would not, could not in the shower

We had an interesting conversation in the office last week. I have no idea how it started but clearly remember the moment it changed tack. Someone (it might have been me) stopped and asked a colleague for clarification: "you drink tea in the shower??" 

A quick office poll revealed most of my team were as surprised as me. How does it work? Don't you get soap and shampoo and other stuff in it? What if you spill it? Doesn't it taste awful? The simple answer was "no", but no further information was provided.

My curiosity couldn't let it go. This now called for a Twitter poll. The results mostly confirmed what I knew already and also furthered the conversation.

But seriously, how does it work? Several people offered suggestions. Many shared that they take cups of tea or glasses of wine to drink while relaxing in the bath. (A friend takes it one step further and pops her Kindle into a zip-lock bag to complement her bath wine experience.) That makes perfect sense. The surfaces are relatively flat, the floor is not too far away and water or other substances are not potentially falling from above into an open vessel. It's the 7% who frequently shower with hot drinks and the 9% who have tried it that intrigue me.

This is not me

How do they do it? Splash-proof lids? Children's sippy cups? Or do they have gigantic walk-in showers with separate shelves away from the shower head that means they can quickly take a sip before stepping back under the water?

I'm reminded of a couplet from my favourite Dr Seuss book, Green Eggs and Ham - slightly revised for this new context.

I would not, could not, in the shower
I would not, could not, at any hour

I still don't understand how it works.

2018 highlights reel

2018 has been an epic year for me. A lot has happened and, while there were some rough patches, it's the first year in many that I can say has been a good one. As we prepare to move into a new year, I've been thinking about what was great in 2018, what I still need to work on and what 2019 might look like. But first, here are some of the many highlights I experienced in 2018.

2018 highlights reel

• I made huge changes to the way I manage my career this year and so far they have paid off. I'm now a self-employed contractor working four days a week and it's made all the difference to my personal and professional life ... but more about this later. 

• I learned how to better manage my energy, using it when and how I needed to and according to my own priorities instead of other people's. I said no to someone's significant request for the first time in many, many years. I still feel bad about it but am learning that it was the right decision for us both - and one that I was entitled to make.

• My extended whānau travelled to the Cook Islands for our cousin's wedding in Rarotonga. We had an amazing time exploring this beautiful island while welcoming a new member to our whānau.

• I can (usually) fall asleep and stay asleep through the night now without staying awake for several hours pondering the state of the world and my place in it. Usually.

• Although reading for pleasure fell through the floor, my professional reading went through the roof. I'm going to count that as a highlight.

There's always next year.

• I listened to endless podcasts this year. Podcasts are a great way of accessing information on the go and also balance out the times when I want to learn something but don't have the energy or brain power to read it.

• The next generation of Weka whānau musicians has awoken, starting with a very excitable 10 year old who is now the proud owner of his first bass guitar (to go along with learning piano and guitar) and a super-excited auntie who can't wait to introduce him to our world of music.

• I baked 16 times for Good Bitches Baking.

• I planted the world's tiniest vege patch (1m²) in spring and now enjoy salads for lunch made with freshly grown lettuce. My carrots and beans look ready to harvest, although I'm still searching for the cucumbers.

What have been your highlights in 2018?

Lost and found

Last month, I received an email informing me that I'd won a $200 voucher to spend at a big ticket retailer as part of a monthly promotional draw. How exciting! The voucher was couriered to me a couple of days later and I thought about many ways I could use it to help set my new home office.

A few days later, a second $200 voucher arrived from the same person at the same retailer. Even the congratulatory note was identical.

My next step was obvious. I emailed her back, thanking her for the original voucher and explaining that a second one had arrived that day. Perhaps she could send a courier ticket for me to safely return the second voucher? Here is her response:

"Oh my! You're THE most honest person ever! I was just going through my voucher records trying to figure out where the missing voucher was. I'm so very sorry!"

A similar thank you message arrived once the voucher was returned, full of gratitude and seemingly surprised that I sent it back. I find it a bit sad that honesty is seen as unexpected, but there's no way that second voucher should be mine and it was immediately obvious that I must return it. Honesty is its own reward.

Yesterday, I was coming home from my morning walk and spotted some 'rubbish' in the front garden. It certainly hadn't been there when I left an hour earlier. I tweeted about it.

Mr Weka and I conferred; although the bank note was immediately outside our bedroom window, we didn't think either of us had dropped it. I checked that the cash I'd been paid a few days earlier was still in my wallet (it was). We agreed that $50 is a sizeable amount of cash to lose and that this situation was very different to the time when the weather gods blew a pair of women's track pants into our backyard, or the time that a book was anonymously hand delivered to my letter box - addressed to me.

I set up a twitter poll, but already knew that I would hand the money in at the local police station. The conversation following the poll reinforced that my decision is the right thing to do. $50 is a lot of money for someone to lose. Who knows what it was destined for? If it is unclaimed and eventually returned to me, I will donate it to charity. Honesty is its own reward.

I've lost a few special items before and searched endlessly for them. Some have monetary value while another has sentimental value beyond belief. My precious taonga is still out there somewhere. It's of no value to anyone outside of my whānau and I hope that karma helps bring it home to me. Honesty is its own reward.

What to do with stuff

I have a love-hate relationship with stuff. I'm not a shopper by any description but I still find that stuff accumulates and hangs around until it reaches a tipping point that triggers a big declutter.

My approach to decluttering, gardening and housework are similar but not always effective: some is better than nothing. I want to get on top of all three this year. (Yes, I probably say that every year.) While I'll never be Marie Kondo, I plan to look at stuff through different eyes.

Nice but not quite me

I like this approach to decluttering for busy people. It's similar to my own pruning process and got me thinking about different ways to see and use stuff, rather than just insisting it's all gone at once.

You don't have to bin everything

What to do with stuff

I'm going to take this approach in 2018.

Use it
If you have it, use it. Erma Bombeck was right when she urged us to burn the pink candle that was sculptured like a rose. Use the fancy olive oil every day along with the good vanilla extract, the decorative tea towels, the luxurious bath towels and gift vouchers long before they expire.

Donate it
If you're not going to use it, donate it. If you've read it, watched it or not worn it for 10 years, donate it. There are charity shops and causes that need donations of quality clothing, books, kitchen equipment, linen and more. There's no point collecting hotel shampoo and conditioner bottles, individually packaged bars of soap or linen that doesn't fit any bed you own. Your local refuge will make better use of it  rather than letting it all sit in your junk cupboard.

Gift it
But what about that thing that is 'too good' to donate? Gift it to someone you know who needs, wants or will use it. Put it in the present cupboard with a specific name label attached or just give it to the person when you see them next. You don't have to wait for an occasion.

Freeze it
Don't forget to freeze it. (This one is related to use it.) I'm good at stocking my freezer with basic ingredients (meat and vegetables), mostly bought in bulk and frozen in meal-size portions. While I'll never be someone who has a detailed menu planner on the fridge door, I plan to use all the ingredients I already have before aimlessly buying more. I want to freeze more cooked meals, either by cooking double portions and freezing half or just having an occasional Sunday afternoon binge cooking session to take some pressure off during busy weekdays.

Recycle it
There are many ways to recycle it. Use it and recycle the packaging. Regift it to the right person (and not just because you're being cheap). If you're not going to use it, donate it or gift it, dismantle it and recycle the components.

Catching up

'Tis the season for catching up:

With neglected friends and family
With unwatched TV series
With untried recipes
With unread books and blog posts
With saved podcasts
With unfinished blog posts
With socialising
With learning new skills
With exploring hobbies
With housework and household chores
With house renovations and repairs
With life in general.

Now that the holidays are here, I am blessed with some time and space to catch up on so many things. Hopefully I can take a break from chasing my tail for a while. But how did I get so behind in the first place? Who sets this unattainable tempo that is punctuated with escalating goals? I often wonder whether I'm trying to keep up with other people's expectations or my own. I suspect it's a combination of the two and one feeds the other, leaving an ever growing To Do list that doesn't really get anywhere.

No matter how many times I've said it, next year will be different. I want to achieve a better balance and am open to ideas and strategies for how to do this - or just to get started. Walking away from a stressful job should help me catch up on all the things I've put on hold for so long and also make some forward progress, but I need to sustain it once I add work back into the mix.

All I know is that things can't continue as they have been and the best time to make a change is now. Who's with me?

A little bit green

Earlier this week, I attended a presentation with the endearing title, "Are we all doomed?" Naturally, the presenter immediately grabbed the audience's attention. The subject was climate change and the context was our actions: what are we doing to save the world? Whose responsibility is it to make changes? Will it make any difference?

This topic has been on my mind for a very long time. I describe myself as a little bit green but know there is plenty of room for improvement. I'm a follower of the every little bit helps school of thought in many areas, and this approach was reaffirmed during the presentation.

Here is a quick inventory of my everyday green actions:

• I use reusable shopping bags at the supermarket, although still resort packing fruit and cold cuts in plastic bags.
• I have a coffee keep cup at work and at home; it's rare that I ask for a takeaway cup. (This happens most often when I'm travelling.)
• I recycle as much as possible, reuse or donate second hand items (clothes etc) as much as I can and generally try not to buy too much crap ... generally.
• I reuse plastic containers for other purposes (especially freezing food) and recycle what I don't need.
• I use public transport to commute to and from work. Occasionally I get a ride from someone else going in the same direction but never drive to work alone.
• I turn off lights, computer monitors and appliances when not in use and unplug chargers when done.
• I'm planning a small vegetable garden and have started by planting herbs. The neighbourhood's snails and caterpillars have given up eating my produce this year, meaning I get to enjoy what I grow.
• I avoid using my car for short, quick errands and try to walk, where practical. It helps that I live on the flat and close to many amenities.

But is it enough? Can the smallest actions make any difference when the majority of greenhouse gas emissions come from agriculture and energy-based industries?

It's a start. I know there are plenty more things I could and should do. But apparently small actions do add up. If everyone adopted three small green behaviours, it would make a big difference and we may not be doomed after all. I might not be saving the world by myself, but hopefully I'm helping.

How are you helping to save the world?

Dear 30

The baby of our group celebrated a special birthday while we were away at new year. She was turning the big (little) 3-0 and feeling quite distraught about it. She worries her youth is over and is not yet convinced that she's actually entering the best decade of her life so far. Fair enough, too. I remember the painful third-life crisis that hit at 30. And then 32 became the five best years of my life.

Here are some things Dear 30 absolutely does (or does not) believe at this point in time but will soon learn - and it's just the beginning.

Dear 30

"I can have dessert now AND cake when we get back to our place. I go to the gym, you know."
Sure you can - but just for tonight because it's your birthday. Soon, going to the gym will no longer give you a lifetime pass for two desserts.

"My favourite shoes aren't that comfy but they look really good."
One day you'll reverse that statement and breathe a sigh of relief.

"I don't need to write it down. I'll remember it."
Ha ha ha ha ha ha! What's that thing called that you tow behind a car? Oh, a-a-a ... caravan! What three things did I need from the supermarket? Not the four things I came out with. Why did I walk into this room?? No idea ... *retraces steps and gets distracted by something else*.

"I don't need as much sleep as you guys. I can get up the morning after a late night out and still be fine for work."
Sleep is now the ultimate prize that you will do anything to win. You will come to covet it more than money, wine or a new car. #fact

"I dye my hair because I like it to be different shades, NOT because I have grey hair."
Yes, for now. But stretch out the time between colouring it just a bit longer than normal and check again.

"I'm ALREADY grown up. I've faced some pretty big life situations and dealt with responsibilities you'd never have dreamed of."
True, you certainly have. I had, too, by 30. But I vividly remember the moment I felt like a grown up. I was driving home from work after a very difficult day and night. I'd spent much of the day trying to deal with an unimaginable scene that had presented itself 24 hours earlier. I'd just been on the phone and made what I realised was my very first grown up decision. I was 35.

"I'm still young. Well, at least I'm younger than all of you."
Yes, you are. But soon age will become just a number and you'll choose to embrace it like we all have.

Happy birthday, Dear 30. The best is yet to come.

Rule of fifty

Life's too short to read a bad book. Actually, I decided a few years ago that life's too short for a lot of things, but I'll focus on books for now. You see, I've been reviewing the titles on my TBR (to be read) list and it's now longer than ever. I didn't manage to achieve my Goodreads reading challenge last year but have reset it once again to 24 books in 2017, or approximately one every two weeks. It doesn't sound like much but when my brain is at full to overload capacity, reading is one of the first pleasures to drop off.

I plan to stay on track with my reading challenge this year. Yes, really. You see, this year I have a strategy. I'm getting better at choosing books I'll finish but still struggle to abandon a book part-way through. It's just not in my nature to stop pursuing something; even if it takes forever, I'll finish it one day.

Book lover Nancy Pearl has come up with a true pearlism. It's called the rule of fifty and makes perfect sense to me as a reader. To quote Nancy Pearl:

"If you're fifty years of age or younger, give a book fifty pages before you decide to commit to reading it or give it up.

If you're over fifty, which is when time gets even shorter, subtract your age from 100. The result is the number of pages you should read before making your decision to stay with it or quit.

Since that number gets smaller and smaller as we get older and older, our big reward is that when we turn 100, we can judge a book by its cover!"

I still have many years until I can judge a book by its cover, but for now I'll give the rule of fifty a go and hopefully meet (or exceed) my reading goal as a result.

What would you take?

What a week! It started with a long, sharp series of jolts in the form of a severe 7.8 magnitude earthquake. It has been a long, unsettled week for those of us navigating the aftermath of this quake and the several thousand that have followed. I can barely begin to imagine how the poor folk near the quakes' epicentre are feeling, let alone contemplate how Cantabrians have lived with this state of uncertainty for so many years.

The quake that woke us up just after midnight was actually two major quakes near each other but with different actions. I was convinced it was Wellington's long overdue 'big one', but it wasn't even on our faultline. And then the aftershocks began and a heightened sense of what we might be in for set it.

A lot has been said about the quality of information available in the critical minutes and hours following the initial earthquake. So many mixed messages from various sources. The radio said one thing but contradicted itself shortly after. Various well-intended emergency sites were interpreting information in different ways. It's hard to know where some of these offices are located and what exact local knowledge they have. WREMO (Wellington Regional Emergency Management Office) posts excellent updates on Facebook and Twitter. I was glued to them both. Social media was having a field day, but ended up being my deciding factor.

Stay or go?

Long term Wellingtonions are well versed in the risk of a major earthquake. In reality, most (myself included) are quite complacent about it and as a result are less prepared than they should be. But the very real risk of a tsunami is another thing. There are blue tsunami lines painted on some roads in tsunami-prone suburbs. They were little more than talking points when they were first painted many years ago and are probably best taken with a grain of salt today.

But this earthquake was different. Even though it was inland, there was talk of a 2m tsunami forming and sea levels pulling out along Wellington's south coast. Or was it the east coast? (Southern suburbs were named - so confusing.) What is the real risk? Do we stay? Should we go? When? Where: higher ground or inland? Walk or drive? If we head for the hills, won't everybody else be doing the same thing and cause a traffic jam which will be worse when there are more quakes?

Firstly, let's look at the criteria for evacuating your property if there is a tsunami risk.

1. There has been a long or strong earthquake. [Heck, yes! 7.8 and lasting a couple of minutes]
2. You are unable to stand up during the earthquake. [Yes. Very hard to keep balance.]
3. You live in a coastal area or tsunami red zone. [Just 100m up the road.] 

I have since learned that our region does not usually activate sirens for locally (NZ) generated tsunami, so it's even more important to know the evacuation criteria and make an informed choice.

We were extremely lucky - for so many reasons. We didn't sustain any major damage. All our utilities (power, water, gas, internet, etc) were still running. We had somewhere safe to go. We had two easily accessible vehicles with a reasonably clear path to our destination. And the pussy cat walked back into the house at just the right moment to seal our decision: we'd shove her into her cat carrier and evacuate. The tsunami sirens rang out through the Hutt Valley just as we arrived at our destination.

What to take?

After being caught short a number of years ago, we purchased a pre-packed emergency survival backpack for our home and also bought a number of smaller first aid kits for our cars and work. We don't have everything we need but are in a better position than we have been in the past. If you can't work out what should be in your kit, these packs are invaluable and a great place to start.

Years of navel gazing quizzes and memes make you think you're prepared. They ask what you would rescue if there was a fire/flood/emergency and you only have moments to decide what you value most. Of course, everybody is safe in these scenarios so you only need to think of worldy possessions. Your survival packs are ready to go. It's easy to speculate.

"I'd collect up my (conveniently located and easy to pack) photo albums and wedding dress/children's christening gown/baby foot bronze statue/priceless piece of art/Olympic gold medal/[insert other sentimental value here]."

Sure you would.

Newspaper reports busily collated their own lists. Everyone has their own theory.

What we took

Here's what we took when we evacuated our home at 2.30am last Monday morning. Remember that we were leaving in a car so had the luxury of throwing more things in than we would if evacuating on foot. We also had somewhere to go where we were 99.5% certain they had enough food, water and amenities for us (unless they sustained damage in subsequent quakes).

• Grab bag, pre-purchased and ready to go. It includes a torch, dynamo radio, first aid kit and various other essential items.
• Laptops, phones, back up hard drive, camera, Kindle and chargers for everything. We already carry portable chargers for our phones and there is also one in my emergency kit at work.
• Backpacks with some basic warm clothes (underwear, hats, change of t-shirt, thermals, pants) and good walking shoes.
• Toilet bag and toothbrushes.
• Raincoats, polar fleece jackets.
• Yowling, moaning cat in a cat carrier and a bag of cat food (pellets).
• My grandmother's rings and my whānau taonga. That's it. I realised that everything else was just stuff.

What I should have taken:

• Passports and other important documents, although I should also scan copies of these and save them in various locations (portable hard drive and cloud).

What I should have left behind:

• My work coat and swipe card. I was stupidly thinking about what I'd wear if I had to go to work directly from my new location, although hadn't thought about dress clothes. Seriously, why/how would that happen if I couldn't even return home?
• Fitbit. It's not even a particularly valuable piece of equipment. Why did I bother? 

So, now you've had time to think about it, what would you take?

Shouldless days

I recently started listening to the Death, Sex & Money podcast by Anna Sale. The premise for the podcast is that it openly talks about the topics we think about a lot but usually leave unspoken.

One of the many episodes I enjoyed was Ellen Burstyn's lessons on survival. I have to confess to not knowing who Ellen Burstyn is before listening to it but I was taken by one particular piece of advice. Ellen is a fan of shouldless days, when you do what you want to do and not the things you think you should - the epitome of guilt-free.

This got me thinking. I'm very much a should person. I should do this and I should do that and I should get around to doing the things I haven't done yet and so on. I'm also a should have person, whereby I relive the guilt of not doing the things I should have done at the end of each day. Does this sound familiar?

In an ideal world, Sundays would be shouldless days for me. It's not just about being lazy and achieving nothing. Sometimes this describes my Sundays perfectly, but there is usually an element of guilt about the things I should have done. This is definitely something I need to work on.

As for what I'd do on my shouldless days, well, I imagine this would be different every week. It's likely to involve coffee, baking, brunch, music, home, new places, sunshine, a book, a walk, making plans, having no plans, good company, no company ... all of the above, some of it or none at all.

What would a shouldless day look like for you?

Note to self about holidays

I have made a lifelong career out of learning in all its shapes and forms. However, I have a history of not really learning (from) the most important things. My recipe for living has been hugely valuable and I followed it up with some life lessons for 2014. Now, after a couple of weeks to think about and reflect on life, I want to create myself a reminder for future breaks and holidays.

My staycation has been great, even if the weather didn't come to the party. The main thing is that it gave me time and permission to relax - something I'm not usually good at. It has left me with some points to remember next time.

Note to self about holidays:

• Sleep for as long (and late) as you need to each day. You have a lot of sleep to catch up on from during the year.
• Bathe yourself in as much music as you can. Turn up the sound. You don't need to listen through earbuds during the holidays.
• Read, read, read - or repeat the step above if you don't feel like reading any more. The same applies to watching DVDs. Make the most of your Fatso subscription.
• Make sure you have a good supply of fresh coffee beans and vanilla Shott.
• Go for long walks whenever it is sunny. Replenish your body's level of vitamin D.
• Socialise or don't socialise. If opportunities come up, take them but don't feel pressured to run around and organise things for everybody. You do enough of that during the year.
• Entertain once or twice. The house is never as clean as when guests are on their way around!
• Never work on Christmas Eve, even though you have done it in the past. Instead, allow yourself a precious day or two to relax and quietly prepare for Christmas Day. Even better, find a little person to bake gingerbread with while singing and dancing to cheesy Christmas carols. It feels fantastic!
• Never start back at work after a break (or start a new job) on a Monday. After just a day or two, you will be hanging out for Friday ... and that's a pretty stink feeling if it's still a few days away.

The changing culture of bakers

As I thumb through one of my newest baking acquisitions, Gran's Sweet Pantry by Natalie Oldfield, I think about how far we've come. This is a whole recipe book of family secrets! People will laugh when I tell them how excited I was to successfully make hot water sponge, the most basic of baking recipes that everyone knows how to make but I'd never made before; it's simply not been part of my baking culture and I didn't know where to begin.

I grew up in an Italian community where food was integral to every celebration and event. Sharing a meal was (and still is) an expression of caring and love. Everyone had their specialty dishes and these were largely regional. From a very young age, I knew to ask who had made what and could taste the difference in technique or when someone had varied an ingredient.

One of the potential hazards of cultures based on an oral tradition is the risk of losing taonga or things that are treasured. This includes important knowledge, traditions and recipes. Although I'd regularly bake with my nonna, her recipes were never written down and didn't have quantities. When baking something with her, I'd ask, "How much flour?" "Yes, that's enough," she'd say. "But how much did you put in?" I'd repeat. "You don't need any more. Now, butter." And that's how it went. To this day, I have no idea how to make the things I used to be an expert in as a 10-year-old. Neither does my mother.

Under no circumstances would someone ever share a recipe. If they did (5% chance), there would be a seriously incorrect quantity somewhere in the ingredients list and/or a couple of missing (or completely wrong) steps in the method. That's just how it was. My mother tells the story of the HUGE pavlova made with twelve egg whites; she should've realised she would never have been given the actual recipe, as requested of a family friend. To acquire someone's treasured recipe was an unlikely as being given a key to their house and permission to wander in any time day or night.

Back in the 80s, our primary school decided to put together a collaborative recipe book as a fundraising activity. With a culture so steeped in good food, they wondered why there were so few contributions from this usually forthcoming community. That's because we were all under strict instructions to not give away any family recipes! The recipes we kids were allowed to contribute were pretty generic; you could probably find them anywhere and they mean very little all these years later.

In this digital age, it's not only easier to find others' recipes but also to contribute to the wider baking and foodie communities. There are whole websites dedicated to sharing recipes, not to mention blogs, YouTube, Pinterest, hashtags on Twitter, Tumblr and online communities. Bakeries publish the very recipes they make and sell to customers. Some even hold classes teaching the public their tricks of the trade. While they may risk losing sales, they're actually increasing their overall profile and building up an appreciation of their product. Like making croissants and macarons, there are some things I'd rather leave to the experts (and pay good money for) now that I know just what is involved in the process. However, I have learned so much from others and my baking has improved in ways that wouldn't have been possible without people so generously sharing their knowledge.

I'm really glad that the culture of bakers is changing. This continuous process of evolution and sharing can only benefit the future of foodies and those we cook for. However, to have the recipe is one thing; to master it is another ... but that's where practice makes it all so much fun.

Life lessons for 2014

Isn't this an exciting time? Resolutions and promises to do more (or less) of everything are flying around the internet left and right today. Somehow, everything feels so much more promising and full of hope on 1 January, even though it's actually no different to any other day of the year. Shhh, I won't tell anyone if you don't!

A couple of New Years Days ago I created my very own recipe for living. I'm more than a little smug to announce that, two years on, I have perfected this recipe and it works really well - so long as you faithfully stick to all of the components. In fact, I'd go as far as to say it's fail-safe. Ooh, yeah!

I have found that end of year/new year is a good time to do some reflecting, though. What really matters? What do I want to achieve? What do I know now that I wish I'd known years ago? Eleanor Roosevelt summed it up beautifully:

"Learn from the mistakes of others. You can’t live long enough to make them all yourself."
- Eleanor Roosevelt

I've thought about a few life lessons that I've experienced and will share them to save you having to learn them for yourself. They're not necessarily mistakes but hopefully I can save you some time and angst by sharing them. You're welcome.

• Adding kahlua to the milk frother results in a complete non-event. The alcohol stops the milk from frothing at all, so don't bother. I imagine Baileys will achieve the same (non) result. Still, someone had to try it at least once, right?
• Salmon is truly a food of the gods. If it's not, it should be.
• Eating too many strawberries won't turn you into one, so I guess it's not true that you are what you eat. Whew!
• Nothing you say or do will make your pussy cat believe that it's better to drink the clean water from her bowl than the rain water that has formed into a dirty puddle by the garage.
• Cutting your tongue on the lid of a tin of caramel condensed milk will only hurt for a little while. It won't kill you.
• When in doubt, smother it in chocolate ganache.

Happy New Year, everyone!

Middle age begins

I read something more than a little disturbing this weekend. According to this article, middle age begins a lot earlier than we ever thought. Well, certainly a lot earlier than I ever thought. If you're not sure whether you're middle aged or not, there are some questions and scenarios that will apparently confirm it either way. See how many you reply "yes" to.

Oh dear.

How is this possible? If you Google images of "middle age", you'll find plenty of photos of people our parents' age, but surely nobody our age or our friends' ages? A couple of years ago I got to thinking about the telltale signs of ageing - none of which have entirely entered our vernacular yet but they lie threateningly near the border. Now, this article brings the middle age mindset dangerously close.

I couldn't bring myself to read the whole list, but certain entries jumped out. I can proudly say that Antiques Roadshow is not on our radar. No, it's Grand Designs for us. We have also set up a season pass on Tivo for the news each night. Hmm. We asked for (and were given) gardening vouchers for Christmas and were very excited to install a 200L emergency water supply (another Christmas present), which filled up after just one night's rain!

Let's see. We prefer house parties to noisy bars, which complicates things slightly when our original New Year's Eve plans were thwarted today. We congratulate ourselves when we manage to stay out after midnight. Considering it used to be my job as a musician to work until 4 am most weekends, this one was a surprise when it first started happening. Also, given my background as a musician, it's strange for me to admit that I no longer listen to commercial radio any more, except for The Sound when I am in the car. In fact, we almost exclusively fast forward through the new music segments of The Graham Norton Show and are disappointed when the song runs late, meaning there is no time for the famous red chair. Gasp!

So, to hastily rush through some more items in the list in my defense ... afternoon naps can be fun, policemen and especially doctors do look young these days, a night in with board games rocks over noisy pubs any day, ankle surgery means that my shoes have to be comfortable and well made rather than stylish, there is NOTHING wrong with wearing an anorak, tissues are essential handbag items and I don't know any songs in the top 10 (see above). So there!

Dare I ask how your list is looking?

A moment of quiet

It's Christmas Eve and we're having a moment of quiet before the festivities tomorrow. Is this the calm before the storm? Perhaps. The weather has certainly turned. I think we're getting better at preparing for Christmas each year and even manage to miss much of the madness we see on tv and hear about via social media. For that, I am quietly but cautiously congratulating ourselves.

Let's see. The presents have long been bought and wrapped, ready for loading into the car tomorrow and distributing at two family homes. I've made a list (really) and checked it twice: certain things will go in one direction and others will head in another.

My final Christmas present cake was decorated and picked up by a friend yesterday, who enjoyed it with her family at a pre-Christmas dinner last night.

A splash of colour for my colourful, artsy friend.

I have iced a gazillion gingerbread cookies and can't wait to see the look on my nephew's face when he sees how the baking we did together yesterday has turned out. I'll have to explain to him that the four remaining large gingerbread men he made specially for certain family members were the lucky ones. One of the others was legless early in the afternoon, another was simply 'armless and none of the survivors were saying a word!

A gingerbread family of survivors in various states of (un)dress.

Yesterday's white Christmas crunch didn't last long after we divided it up between three homes. It's a great grazing treat and I'll definitely add it to my Christmas baking list for next year. There are chocolate truffles and salted caramel truffles packed up and ready to take with us. My Caramelising Sugar 101 session on Saturday night was touch and go but I found this guide to be absolutely invaluable. The golden rule is DO NOT stir the sugar while it is caramelising, as it adds air to the mixture and cools it down, so will not work. I can't wait to try it again. There are also chicken nibbles marinading in the fridge and a duck egg sponge cake cooling.

When thinking about this time last year, we were sitting outside in the heat until 10 pm with a whole bunch of friends who had come over for a homemade pizza party. It was so much fun waiting for Santa Claus together but, having said that, I'm also glad that we're having a quiet night at home tonight to rest and charge our batteries. There are only two (or two and a half) places we need to be at tomorrow instead of last year's four. It's also unlikely to reach 32°C this year, so I'm taking that as a good sign that things will be calmer this time around.

Have I forgotten anything? Perhaps - but that's ok, because for now we are enjoying a moment of quiet.

Wishing you a happy, safe and peaceful(!) Christmas, wherever you may be!

Dyeing inside

I like a good curry. The aroma, the flavour, the colour ... ahhh. Oh, the colour. Have you ever noticed what colour your kitchen utensils become when you cook a curry at home? If yellowy-orange is your thing, then you're probably not too worried. If you prefer items to remain the same colour as when you bought them, then there are some cautions to be aware of. I remind myself time after time that I'll mix the spices in a glass or Pyrex bowl next time instead of a plastic one so it's easier to scrub the colour off. (I sometimes remember.) I then look at how quickly my new scrubbing brush bristles have turned yellow. Oops, I forgot to wipe down the chopping board right away! Hopefully the dishwasher will deal to that ... but what about the beetroot juice that spilled onto the kitchen cloth? And so it goes on.

Turmeric, with its rustic, earthy tones is actually a great natural dye. So is coffee, beetroot and spinach. Actually, there's quite a list and you can find plenty of tips about how to make natural dyes from plants and foods. That's all good and fine when you want to colour something, but people rarely need to dye cream carpet the colour of pasta sauce or white tops with splotches of red wine. Pale clothing and furnishings are a magnet for intensely coloured food.

It's not all bad news, though. Teenagers of my generation were well skilled in the ability to use lemon juice to add highlights to your hair. I went to a school where hair dye was strictly prohibited. It was a matter for suspension! Hair had to be of one natural colour (ie, yours!) and even highlights were banned. However, it's amazing how many girls came back from the summer holidays with 'natural highlights' from the sun. It didn't work so well for brunettes, though.

I can't help thinking that if the foods we regularly eat can permanently stain everyday items, then what colours are we becoming on the inside??

Woolgathering

Inspiration comes in all shapes and forms. Sometimes it arrives at completely random times and places. At other times, it involves some serious woolgathering requiring precious time out from reality but resulting in a solution for the world's problems. Today's spontaneous txt from a friend asking, "Got time for coffee?" has left me refreshed and able to tackle the big job I've been pondering for a few days. Who would have thought that time away from a desk can actually be more productive than the number of hours spent chained to it? ;-)

A few months ago, I was in the middle of a huge project that I felt was going nowhere fast but with a looming deadline. A friend asked me to see the Warhol: Immortal exhibition at Te Papa with her. I wasn't sure I could spare the time but really wanted to see the exhibition so made a bold decision to go anyway. Lo and behold, as I was getting onto the bus home afterwards, I could suddenly see a great solution to a problem I'd been grappling with all day. It took just an hour the next morning to redo my previous day's work but in a far better way. Yep, time out and a change of scenery is usually far more productive for me than pressing on with the same thing and wondering why it isn't working.

I don't know about you, but some of my best ideas actually come while I'm in the shower. No, seriously! I had a brainwave the other day about something else I've been trying to develop for a while now. Suddenly, I had an idea for the way forward that all made sense. I relayed my idea to a colleague, who clearly was impressed. "Maybe we should get a shower at work?" she suggested, before realising that there is one on the ground floor that gym bunnies sometimes use after lunch, but it's probably less relaxing or inspiring than having a shower at home. "How about a spa pool instead?" she countered. Now there's a good idea!

Planning to be spontaneous

Like most people I know, I'm a busy person. Gosh, how society loves busyness! Ask someone (anyone) you haven't seen for a while what they've been up to and they'll busily explain how busy they've been, how busy they are right now and how busy they're going to be for the next wee while ... yes, it's reassuring to proclaim how busy we are. It's also a convenient, upfront blanket excuse for getting out of things we're not sure we want to do.

Admittedly, my social calendar alternates between feast or famine. However, even during my busiest times I love getting random text messages saying "Coffee in an hour?" or "I'm in town today. How about lunch?" Absolutely! Spontaneous events are sometimes the most fun as they also feature the bonus element of surprise. (Yes, I know all about logistics and prior commitments.) I have a friend who is desperate to do spontaneous, fun things ... but only if she's planned and prepared for it first with plenty of notice. Hmmm. It doesn't quite work that way. (I think she secretly understands this.)

Yesterday, a colleague casually invited a few of us in the office to her place for lunch and a mini-housewarming. We'd briefly mentioned the idea before she moved and agreed to wait until she felt settled enough to host us. Word spread quickly and the numbers grew. And then Miss Self-proclaimed Party Girl Who Loves To Do Crazy Reckless Things At The Drop Of A Hat piped up with a litany of questions:

• When is it? What day of the week is that? How many weeks away is it?
• What time will it start and finish?
• What do you mean by 'lunch'? Do you mean lunch or just nibbles?
• How much food will there be? What sort of food is it?
• What is everybody bringing? How will we know what everyone else is bringing? Should we all write what we are bringing on a big list just in case someone else brings the same thing and we have too much?
• Who else is invited? How many people will be there? Who is allowed to come? Can people come later if they can't make it at the start?
• What will we do once we're there?

... all within 30 seconds. Sure, they're all valid questions and there is definitely a time and place to sort out details, but we were taken aback with how quickly she could fire them at us and needed to know the answers right now. Whew!

We told her to take a leaf out of Nike's book and just do it. Yes, I know that campaign's not all it was cracked up to be - but just think about it for a while, ponder all the facts and then make a measured decision when you are ready doesn't quite have the same ring to it when we're suggesting a casual lunch six weeks away. We assured her we'd get it all sorted before the day but, in the meantime, she should just put it in her calendar. We all had a good-natured laugh and she backed down a little, but I'm not entirely sure she's convinced.

Do you love or loathe spontaneity? How would you react if your best friend called you right now and said, "I'm in town for just one night - let's have dinner"?