Here we have snippets of some of our projects and everyday tasks that instilled quiet minds, healthy bodies, and simple satisfaction -- continuing on in the spirit of those last two lines of Mowing by Robert Frost (in full in the last post),:
The fact is the sweetest dream that labor knows. Read More
My long scythe whispered and left the hay to make.
We think about it all of the time. The name Pukahu, as I understood it, is rooted in Maori and describes the 'litter under the Kauri tree' (pictured above) - and brings me to thinking of the rich mulch that forms under any tree from the amalgam of dead plant matter, microbes and time. It is fitting for this 5 acre plot in Kaiwaka at the Otomotea Ecovillage. Read More
As I sit here in our apartment writing this I'm wearing a mint colored shirt with an owl on it that someone who's followed our photo sets might recognize. It was my favorite shirt before we left for Iceland in May 2011 and the accompanying preferential treatment I gave it while we traveled is probably the reason I'm still able to wear it today - the only one of the four I had with me that's really still fit for public. Read More
Holy cow. Here's what happens when we travel for awhile - diligently blogging and uploading photos and keeping up an online presence as best we can - then land back in the motherland to some amazing familiar faces with warm hugs and homes: nothing. Nothing happens. No blogging, no photos, nothing. Read More
One of the unforeseen benefits of travel in a vintage car - or at least in OUR vintage car - is the slower pace of speed. Perhaps, also, it is just that everyone around us, in their Japanese import, is whizzing along a few (or twenty) km per hour over the limit, causing them to pass us in droves. By the time we found ourselves on North Island roads headed towards the Waitomo Caves area, we were fully comfortable in the Sunday cruising mode. Read More