Essays

Hope is shaped like a shovel and will give you blisters

More than once I felt like kneeling down. There’s a kind of awe that hits you when you understand the scale of the loss and the commitment required to heal and recover.

The rapture of Survival: A collage of post-Waitangi mundane delights

Lois realises in her list of delights, there are no mundane tasks. Is she lazy? Possibly. Probably. She is surrounded by people who excel at the domestic. Lois prefers to document the domestic.

Post-script: Responding to the comments....

This is my wero and karanga back to you e te tuahine. What about that initial vision you talked to me about? Do you remember?

I don't want to write about it but. (Why I'm leaving Substack.)

When my puku is churning it usually means I have to.

Instructions for (not) Letting Go

A weird and short parable.

An editor lives in my head

Years ago, Lois used to argue with John in actual cafes. They would meet and he would have a long black and her and oat milk flattie. Sometimes they ate (him lasagne with side salad, her a scone which she'd barely touch).