Self preservation
How to keep calm and peel onions, gorgeous dahlias and the perfect ginger beer.
The small, wiry pair move swiftly, with the focus of apex predators. They’re agile and light on their feet, faces creased with age and the experience of seasoned campaigners. She looks like she could skin and gut a stoat without flinching, he looks like he’s no stranger to the rifle or fishing rod.
Ironically, their head-to-toe camouflage renders them extra visible among the comfortably attired other shoppers at an inner-city supermarket on a Saturday morning. I briefly consider tailing them to see what they’re buying (peering into other people’s trolleys is one of life’s underrated pleasures) but worry I might come to a sticky end in aisle four. They remind me of a wild-haired guy I saw in a Westport supermarket just before Christmas, standing over a trolley packed with margarine, beer and cheap cleaning products. “I only come in once a month,” he was telling his mates. “There’s no need to come in for anything else.”
This pair is easy to mock (my husband clocks them and raises an eyebrow at me), but it’s likely we’re hunting the same prey. We’re making a rare joint supermarket visit to update our emergency supplies, which has the potential for high levels of marital discord. Thanks to Zoe Barry’s suggestion, we now compromise on a minimum stocks kind of situation, which has greatly reduced the risk of divorce. In this economy, as we often joke, setting up two households would just be unaffordable.
As well as the survivalists, there are other joys to observe. At the supermarket exit, a guy in his 20s crouches down beside a sleek, dolphin-grey whippet. He pours water in the lid of a drink bottle and the dog laps at it tentatively with a pale pink tongue. This seems such a tender moment that I feel almost teary, though maybe that’s the after-effect of going through the checkout.
Later, at home, after telling my husband we should get a pig and some chickens, I chop quinces and apples for chutney, feed the sourdough starter and make a mental note to check the kefir grains I got from a fermenting group. I know these things will not save us from imminent doom, but they are important to me all the same. At the very least, it’s hard to doomscroll while doing them.
Good Things
Darling dahlias
A couple of weeks ago I was talking to gardening guru Lynda Hallinan about dahlias and how they’ve become extremely ‘cool’ and sought-after. Lynda laughed cheerfully, then said sympathetically that maybe I was slow to catch on. “It’s different in Auckland,” she said kindly.
Whether you’re bothered by trends or not, you’ll probably adore these gorgeous dahlia tea towels made by my pal Nicola Edmonds (using one of her photographs of her own homegrown dahlias). These are available as postcards and prints too - you can see more here or drop her a line: nicola@nicolaedmonds.com
Kereru Ginger Beer Soda
Here’s a properly grown-up fizzy drink - spicy, not too sweet and alcohol-free. It’s brewed up the road in Upper Hutt, which immediately means it leaves a better taste in your mouth than anything made by any multi-national conglomerate. Great with lots of ice, especially when sipped in early evening sunshine.
It’s a Wonder, Man
This new-ish series is a superhero story for people who aren’t really into superhero stories (like me). There’s no ‘bringing your whole self to work’ for actor Simon Williams (played by Yahya Abdul-Mateen II), who is actually blessed/cursed with super powers that make him dangerous to be around. Enter Trevor Slattery (a brilliant Ben Kingsley), an acting mentor who isn’t all he seems. Chaos ensues, etc, in a really quite charming and wonderful way. There’s a second season to look forward to, but season 1 is now on Disney+.







Can you please leave no more recommendations for Disney because I have just unsubscribed and now I have fomo 😰