The 21st Theory

For some reason when one turns the grand age of twenty one, it’s kind of a big deal. In New Zealand culture young adults often celebrate by convincing their parents to hire out a venue or bar, invite friends, collogues and acquaintances alike and hope the bar tab doesn’t run out.  This terrified me. I can count the number of close friends I have on one hand, how do people even know enough individuals to fill a room, let alone a venue?

It may be the fact that I am not the coolest kid on the block, and that I tend to lack any hesitation when pouring out my love, not realizing friendships take time,but it wasn’t until admitting my fear of holding a 21st to a friend, that I realized that there was another option, and that was simply to not. So for my 21st year of living on this beautiful planet, I decided to climb a mountain and celebrate my life surrounded by blue skies and white peaks.  It was incredibly humbling to spend the day feeling tiny and important both at once.

However, last July I attended a 21-year celebration that made me think that if I could do it again, this is exactly how I would do it.  A 21st, or any birthday celebration in-fact should, in my opinion, reflect the person who is being celebrated. I hiked all day on my birthday and was surrounded by nature and company that made me blissfully content. This person surrounded herself by the beautiful people in her life, insanely good food, and a wonderful creative spirit.

I often joke that I am studying to do exactly what this person does for a hobby. However I wanted to write this blog post and include these photos to encourage others that a 21st isn’t defined by what is expected but by what reflects you.

 

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 Photos credited to a miss Em Blackmore

 

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The Best uses for Dried & Pressed Flowers

Over the railway tracks and into the Florist OR the best uses for dried and pressed flowers:

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One of the really wonderful things about working at a cafe is getting to know the regulars. We have a bucketful of very cool regulars at Mondays Whole Foods. Regulars who bring us in fresh produce from their garden, a book from their shelves, hilarious stories from their past or a nice bunch of newspaper wrapped, twine tied flowers.

Across the Kingsland train tracks, nestled under the noisy station bridge is my favorite little flower shop, Urban Flowers. It is also where one of my favorite customers resides. A few weeks ago she dropped off a couple of flowers to be dried and turned into something lovely. With the help of an incredibly creative individual named Annie, here are my favorite three uses for dried and pressed flowers.

Cake toppings. Flowers, I reckon, are behind the expression ‘to make the mundane beautiful‘ as they really do. Take a run of the mill cake like the one below, and add a small but bright arrangement of flowers and a simple little cake becomes quiet remarkable.

Fridge magnets.  All you need is a jar full of dry, pressed flowers, a laminator, scissors, magnets and some double sided tape, oh and preferably a fridge. Laminated flowers and leafs make for the prettiest decorations on a boring fridge, have a look how its done with autumn leafs,

http://www.filthwizardry.com/2011/11/laminated-autumn-leaf-magnets.html

Pottery and crockery. I am a sucker for a nice piece of crockery. Gluing dried flat, (pressed) flowers to the bottom of a tray, plate or bowl and then using  Epoxy Resin over them make for the daintiest crockery set. Even if it’s just a few daisy’s scattered and glued throughout a set of mugs. Simple creams, browns, greens and just a hint of yellow flowers are perfect to transform those cheap Briscoes buys. All you need is pressed dried flowers, craft glue, and some sort of Epoxy Resin. Take a quick look at this lovely lady’s rose petal tray for instructions and inspiration,

http://sayyes.com/2013/09/diy-pressed-rose-petal-tray.html

 

Wordpress one Word press two

On a side note, or as a post script, happy birthday to the receiver of this cake although its pretty, it’s not nearly as extraordinary as you.

Unplug Every Day 365 ways to log off & live a better life.

In the corner above my favorite seat at my favorite cafe there are four shelves full of knicks and knacks.  On the second to last shelf are two small books, which hold a world of wisdom. Next to the funky elephant is one of these two books, it’s titled ‘Unplug every day’. This book holds 365 ways to log off and live a better life. I have picked this book up tones of times in the last few weeks each time with the determination to do one of the 365 tasks each day. Its now been two months and I have just finished my first one.

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Swap stories. Last year I tagged along on a family hike with one of my favorite friends. The Pinnacles hike in the Coromandle of New Zealand is a beauty. It is also a long day hike. Luckily for us and for the two younger boys my friends father is a story teller. He has such an incredible imagination and a storytellers tone of voice. He made the day hike seem like an afternoon walk. He told us such a funny story about how McDonalds came to be in existence, a tale of a cunning taxi driver and crazy old lady and a quietly beautiful and captivating fable about J.R.R Tolkien and his experience of life. I wish I had had a tape recorder with me.

In my family my mother was the story teller. She created imaginary worlds and characters my brother and I fell in love with. Although I hope I inherited her kindness I know for a fact I did not inherit her story telling ability. So when I opened up to this page and read ‘swap’ stories I felt this great panic that I could not. So in order to swap stories I will record them. Short stories with great meanings, Stories I heard from my Mum, friends, parents, teachers or even the mail man. Short stories I read in books, fables and tales. I hold such value in words and what they can teach and express, so below ( under the photo) are three blurbs of three very much loved storys. One was told on a hike, one was shared in an English class and the other was told on a long train trip in the south of Germany. Feel free to flick me a message if you would like the source or the full text.

“Never trust anyone who has not brought a book with them.”
Lemony Snicket

“Sometimes, you read a book and it fills you with this weird evangelical zeal, and you become convinced that the shattered world will never be put back together unless and until all living humans read the book.”
John Green

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1.And The Mountains Echoed‘ By Khaled Hosseini

In the beautiful book ‘ And The Mountains Echoed’ By Khaled Hosseini, there is a short expert of a story about a farmer by the name of Baba Ayub, his beloved Son and a dreaded giant. The young son is taken by the giant, and the father driven mad with grief sets out on the long journey to find him. What he discovers however, when he finally makes it to the giants kingdom, is very far from what he expected or imagined. The father surprisingly encounters a situation and a choice he never imagined he would have to make.

Excerpt: Once upon a time, in the days when divs and jinns and giants roamed the land, there lived a farmer named Baba Ayub. He lived with his family in a little village by the name of Maidan Sabz

2. Leaf by Niggle by J.R.R Tolkien

Although most of you will know the famous Lord of the Rings books and The Hobbit, many of you might not have stumbled upon a little story called Leaf by Niggle. It is my favorite of Tolkien’s works by far. It tells the tale of Niggle who has a long journey to take which he can not get out of. Niggle is also an artist and loves painting for his own pleasure. Niggle diligently begins to paint a great tree with great passion.He invests each and every leaf of his tree with obsessive attention to detail, making every leaf uniquely beautiful. But as it always seems to do life soon gets in the way and the painting gets lost to time.

Excerpt: There was once a little man called Niggle, who had a long journey to make. He did not want to go, indeed the whole idea was distasteful to him; but he could not get out of it. He knew he would have to start some time, but he did not hurry with his preparations. Niggle was a painter. Not a very successful one, partly because he had many other things to do. Most of these things he thought were a nuisance; but he did them fairly well, when he could not get out of them: which (in his opinion) was far too often.

3. The Multnomah Tribe Princess By handfuls of different authors

This short story was told within another story and it simple as it is bitter sweet. This story can be found across many seas and in many different cultures. Dialects, characters and  surroundings are often different, but the underlining meaning remains the same. Sacrifice and love. The story is about a plague that began to wipe a tribe of Indians out. A prophecy is recounted by a medicine man that the beloved daughter of a chief must give her life to stop the advance of the plague. After praying and giving herself to the Great Spirit, the selfless princess threw herself to her death on the rocks below, saving her loved ones and the entire village.

Excerpt: Many years ago the head chief of the Multnomah people had a beautiful young daughter. She was especially dear to her father because he had lost all his sons in fighting, and he was now a old man. He chose her husband with great care, a young chief from his neighbors, the Clatsop people. To the wedding feast came many people from tribes along the lower Columbia and south of it.

“So, please, oh please, we beg, we pray, go throw your TV set away, and in its place you can install, a lovely bookcase on the wall.”
― Roald Dahl

 

 

 

My thoughts on living in the city.

My thoughts on living in the city.

I live in a jungle surrounded by people whose words will never be heard. I moved from a city surrounded by water to a city bounded by walls, tall, thick walls that when they crumble fill foreigners pockets with pebbles and their lungs with city smoke. This is a city where every person is a stranger and only one in a hundred faces is familiar. But my pockets are filled with rivers and my lungs with sea air. You can’t smell the salt in the city. The sea air doesn’t quiet make it up Queen street but hovers uncertainly around the shipping containers not courageous enough to be engulfed by the hundreds of steel stockades and so the buildings stand there victorious. Auckland is a city drowning in spaces undiscovered. Buildings here whisper to me in a hundred voices. Bricks flood together some standing staunch and tall others collapsing into the bustle of strangers bellow, to busy to realize that their city of gold is not beneath their feet but in the sky.

 

 

 

 

 

What every good Italian vineyard dreams of retiring as

This week has been filled with good finds, and equally as beautiful food. The locals from Mt Eden sure do have it good, and will laugh at me and say ‘you’ve only just discovered it’ but nevertheless let me boast just for a second, The Garden Shed is what every good Italian vineyard dreams of retiring as. Check out there website, http://www.thegardenshed.kiwi/

The photos bellow are simply for aesthetic purposes and rightly belong to those who had the talent to take them. Next time ill drag a friend with a camera and a certain love for good light and great wine with me. Until then here are a few words and some good visuals.

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Home to a house full of flowers

I am grateful for different cities, for large ones and small ones. I am grateful that my new home does not have bitter winds and that it has caused me to realize that Wellington really does , I just never knew any different. I have noticed that I have always lived on a hill and that flying into Wellington at night is incredibly beautiful.  Its true that absence makes the heart grow fonder, although I don’t think the author of that saying had certain cities in mind.  What is true though is that I came home to a house filled with flowers, every single room, so I think Wellington missed me , or a certain someone at least. I thought when I moved to Auckland I would be starting a new home and leaving the other behind, but it turns out I now have two homes, how incredibly lucky is that ! Lillies

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Here’s to the markets and falling in love with cheese. Or , The French Market La Cigale. Or maybe , The secrets of strangers and street stalls.

When I was in London my heart was in serious trouble. Markets are one of my many guilty and simple pleasures. I could have spent a lifetime at the Brick Lane and Portobello markets.

Then I arrived in Holland and I was pretty certain Amsterdam had stolen my heart. The floating flower market and the best apple pie I have ever tasted, and not for the reasons you might think.

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And then I cheated on the both of them when I discovered French farmer’s markets and French wine. And I thought I was in love with Europe. I knew nothing. I’m not even going to begin describing the Chiang Mai New Years markets and surrounding street food stalls. It’s like the world has these awesome secrets that you can only discover between rows of stalls and strangers. I hope someone has written a book titled just that. The secrets of strangers and street stalls.

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Then I came home to the markets in my favorite city in the world. The little love of Wellington. The infamous Chafers doc markets where I spent little under a year selling the most divine dark chocolate and nibbling on French cheese from the stall next to mine. It is also the place where I bought my very first bunch of Peonies and decided that’s what I wanted to be when I grew up, that or French cheese.

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I have recently decided to explore a suburb a week in Auckland, where I have just moved too. And this Saturday I visited Parnell and the famous French Market. The simple elegance this market holds is worthy of praise. Every single thing I ate I could taste exactly what was in it. Clean, raw beautiful food. I don’t think it’s my heart I should be worried, see for yourself!

 

Blogedit blogeditthree blogedit two I had the honey comb puff ( in the first photo ) And yes it was full of sugar, but was worth every bite.  I also got the most beautiful honey smoked salmon, which you can see in the second photo. As well as that I purchased the best falafels I’ve ever had in my entire life and some beautiful Moroccan hummus AND a cucumber garlic dip. There was also this lovely lady selling little ciabattas for 50c so I couldn’t say no! They were awesome flavors , capsicum and tomato, nutmeg, garlic and sunflower seeds. And the smoothies were filled with goodness the one above had organic green beans, banana, lemon, mint, avocado, apple, dates, chia seeds, coconut and mineral water ! Oh and the Focaccia next to the honey comb puff was feta, onion, marmalade, caramelised onion and horseradish !

 

I might just fall in love with Auckland after all.

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