Seeking joy: Winter 2026

kunanyi Hobart Tasmnia

I think everyone has that one season where they have to look a little harder to find joy. For me, that season is winter. Short, dark days – yuck. Cold, wet weather – yuck. Layers of clothes on again and off again every time you need to walk the dog around the block – yuck. No stone fruits or locally grown berries at the grocery store – yuck, yuck yuck.

But after thirteen years living in Lutruwita/Tasmania, one thing I have learned is that there’s no point fighting the winter. All you can do is lean into it, be patient, and take pleasure where you can.

(Three decades living in Scotland before I moved here was good training indeed.)

This season’s blog post reflects that attitude, I think. There are no exciting or adventurous joys in this list – it’s more of a survival guide – but perhaps that is the whole point of this writing exercise. To look harder, and to appreciate ever-smaller and simpler things.

We made it, friends. Another winter done. And now onwards, to glorious, generous, beautiful spring.

Continue reading

I owe you a letter

“I owe you a letter” I said.

We were exchanging sad, frustrated messages, about climate change. This has been a summer of extreme heat across Europe – burning mountains and moors, empty reservoirs, record-breaking temperatures.

“Don’t ever feel you owe me a letter,” she replied.

She was right, of course. I’d expressed myself poorly. What I’d meant by “I owe you a letter” was actually “I loved receiving and reading your letter. I’m looking forward to finding an evening soon when I can sit down and take the time to write one in return.” Continue reading

DorkyDog, five years on


We have had our wee DorkyDog now for over five years, but I realised recently that I haven’t written about her since we were going through all the drama and stress of her total hip replacement – all the way back in 2022.

Ironically, I’m now making time to write about her just as we are staring down the barrel at another potential surgery. Poor girl has been in clear discomfort every evening for the last month or so, and after some x-rays and conversations with the vet it looks likely she’ll need the other hip replacing too – but there may also be a knee issue we need to sort out first.

I’m very grateful that we ignored all the folk who told us not to bother getting pet insurance. Even if we didn’t make any more claims for the next ten years, I reckon we would still come out ahead.

But needless to say, DorkyDog – or Luna Bear, as we know her – is far more than the sum of her sore and stiff joints. Although that overwhelming first year of puppydom, surgery included, was a real shock to our quiet household, I don’t think any of us were prepared for quite how deeply she would embed herself in the family, and how fiercely we would come to love her.

(I have paused my writing at this point to walk into the room off my office, where she is stretched out napping in a sunny spot on the bed. Just to give her a little kiss on the head.) Continue reading

The unbearable sadness of rice cakes

A loaf of bread on a wooden cutting board

 

Oh bread.

Lovely, lovely bread. How I miss you.

Hot, buttery toast, with a slick layer of Marmite floating on the surface. Crusty hunks of sourdough, topped with curls of unsalted French butter. Pulled pork with ‘slaw and barbecue sauce in a big soft bap. Floaty white boats in a bowl of tomato soup. Chip butty with ketchup as a dirty treat when DorkyDad is away on a work trip. Wholemeal pitta, stuffed with cream cheese and avocado, and if I’m feeling fancy then some chopped up pepperoncini or za’atar sprinkled in among it. Continue reading

Soundtrack to an uncool life

I realised the other night, as I was waiting for Nagi Maehashi’s Vietnamese pork dish to caramelise and singing a London Grammar song into my spatula, that both of my last two blog posts have mentioned music.

It felt like a sign. Time for my music and snobbery piece to break free of the drafts folder, expand beyond its initial brief, and become a celebration of music in all its forms.

Because there has always been a hierarchy in music – a sense that some bands are cool and others deeply uncool. I have spent most of my life cheerfully on the wrong side of that divide.

And honestly? I think I’ve had more fun because of it.

Continue reading