Aaaaaah, the smell of BS in the air. It must be election season. I was first elected to the City Council in 2013, and I have to say this year feels a lot like it did then. There’s a sense of “we’re right on the cusp of something great but need new energy and common sense” and “I want more than constant bickering about cycleways”. I am not saying either of these are, on their own, good reasons to vote anyone in or out, but the vibe is very 2013.

What is it about food that makes it such a joy to be around? Is it the taste, look, texture, or aroma? And how about when all these things amalgamate to provide the individual with one of life’s great pleasures – eating!

In January, Dylan the house bus and Edith the Suzuki made their way up the West Coast of the South Island, carrying Billy the Greyhound and his humans, Ali and Rob. We left Christchurch on 31 December and headed for the New Year hot spot of Oamaru.

I have an annual tradition of standing outside my Auckland flat at this time of year and staring into the abyss that is my overgrown, under maintained garden and wishing I cared enough or just had the general know-how to landscape my garden into the summer outdoor entertainment paradise of my dreams.

My fourth birthday party, which was obviously a dress-up, was broken up into two acts. Act One starred me as Batman, then dying halfway through the party, leaving to have a costume change, and returning for Act Two dressed as an angel

Creative identity, along with creative intention, is not the sole mandate of the exceptional amongst us. Everyone has that beautiful seed in them to do something different or special ‘out of the blue’ using their hands or minds.

Spring in the vineyards of North Canterbury is a frightening time for growers. We have one of the best climates in the world for growing grapes: dry autumns, low humidity, good airflow. It’s great, except for that one thing – frost.

Are we free yet? Writing in advance puts you into that most nebulous of places. Is COVID-19 still as prohibitive as it has been, or is our world slightly different?

Cast your mind back to your third year of university as 21st season struck very much like a pandemic. Every week a new invite for an old high school friend’s big day – often located at a bar in town, a bowling club in the ‘burbs, or the most chaotic... a stayover at the family farm.

“I became aware of the Instagram account @03ar.chives a few years ago whilst wasting a few hours of my life away on Instagram stories. I wasn’t looking for anything of significance, rather to mindlessly absorb the repetitive imagery of influencers impossibly clean houses, breakfasts at trendy new cafes I’ll never get a seat at, and friends’ new dogs being raised like human children.”

Student of the Week was the highest honour any eight-year-old kid could be bestowed in Room 8 at Elmwood Normal School. Deep down, I knew it was a just very simple discipline tactic, rewarding any random child whose turn happened to be next.

“It’s my strong personal opinion that all families can be divided by a very simple value system – families that camp and those that don’t. It’s the families that camp that are also the ones who still get Santa photos despite all the kids now being 45.”

“I honestly just find the raw stainless steel, pumping death metal music, and bright fluorescent lighting just too intimidatingly masculine. I’m here to treat my body like a temple, not a gay dance club in Berlin.”

“So, how did you two meet?” A question historically answered with longwinded, romantic tales of sinking ships and letter exchanges during the war. One has to sympathise for us poor millennials and our stories of “Well, we just kind of swiped right on each other on Tinder then got drunk and hooked up”.

“Having a ‘cool vibe’ is something almost impossible to purposefully manifest. Take it from me and my multiple attempts to try and pull off a fedora in my early teens. But one step inside the theatre at Little Andromeda and you’ve already unintentionally taken three steps up the proverbial ‘social ladder’ – and Christchurch, I know how important social capital is in our garden city.”

“I do fret that I’ve robbed myself of that quintessential Christchurch experience of being blind drunk, sun-burnt, and screaming at a horse that I’ve spent my course-related costs on to make me rich.”