Procrastination

Dear folks,

How are you? I currently have the hiccups, but I am well. Do you spell them hiccoughs? I have had a cold for the last two days, but now am bravely soldiering on.

Well I think that just about wraps it up for the news for the last month or so, I can take another hiatus.

*****

Ok, so, I'm not the best at updating. Sorry. But that is due to a very good reason,

Extreme laziness.

So I am updating now, because I have something other than updating my blog to procrastinate from: Cleaning All The Things.

Yes, we are finally reaching the end of our stay in NZ. Do I say that often enough to be annoying yet? I do feel like I constantly update you all with fitful reminders ('last two months in NZ! last one and a half months in NZ! last month and a bit in NZ! OH GOD IT'S JUST UNDER A MONTH NOW.) Just another couple of days and we'll be winging it over to Wanaka to try and not break anything before the wedding. I'm so excited!

What has been happening recently?

Well, I'm now going to be working in Reading next month, not Windsor. I am of course thrilled, just as Ricky Gervais' mother would have been, for there are definitely parts of Reading I haven't been to yet.

I've been accepted as a trainee member of the Royal College of Ophthalmologists, in one of the most brilliant suspense-building letters for the least-suspense-requiring-application I've ever received ("Dear Dr Han, we have carefully considered your request for membership in our annual meeting..." - it's just a trainee membership, folks. You don't need to carefully consider it.) Indeed, how much is there to carefully consider:

"Looks like this Dr Han person wants to be a trainee member."

"Goodness me. Well what are the requirements for being a trainee member?"

"Well, you must be a trainee."

"And is she?"

"Yes."

"Jolly good. What else?"

"And you must want to be a member."

"Oh. Well, does she?"

"Well she's sent in an application. So one can only assume she does."

"You know what they say about assuming, Wilkins. Makes an ass - "

"I think we can safely assume she does, sir."

"So what you're saying, Wilkins, is that she is a trainee, and wants to be a member, and those are the only requirements for being a trainee member."

"Quite correct."

"Don't we have some kind of recommendation system with old members and the like? You know, to keep the rabble out? Some kind of initiation ceremony involving pheasants and a naked steeplechase? I remember having to do something unspeakable to a foxhound in the basement of the RCP building before being allowed in."

"No, sir. If you'll recall, that's for full membership of the College. This is just for trainee membership. Those are the only requirements we have."

"Standards are slipping, Wilkins. Why, when I was young - "

"No doubt, sir. Shall I send a reply?"

"Just go over it again with me, Wilkins. Complicated stuff, this. What exactly are the requirements again?"

***

Back to my news.

I've finished my job and now am a full fledged huswife dawdling about the place waiting for tim to get home. I sort of imagined that when this happened, I would be at the pool, going to the gym, learning 3x different languages, and generally being as productive as hell. What has actually occurred is that I've read 3 entire detective stories and read a lot of Game of Thrones related news and contracted a cold, which essentailly translates to flipping f-all.

Life. It is ever thus.

So now we've all learnt that I cannot be trusted to rely on my own devices and that a hothouse upbringing and expensive education have only served to make me totally unreliable at motivating myself. I could at the very least be reading the latest guidelines on EYES or something but I've only read one article in the last week and I fell asleep while I was reading it.

I remind you I had a cold.

Wedding planning goes apace and I am very excited about the whole matter, except the matter of my dress, which I am beginning to fear I will not fit into, for reasons which I shall shortly explain (not pregnant, before anyone wonders).

So, basically, my BODY PLAN for this year has been to be become buff.

Seriously buff.

Oh all right, I just wanted to beat Tim at arm wrestling. Which I can almost do. So I've been reading MEN'S HEALTH (Australia) and telling everyone endlessly about how much I've been reading Men's Health Australia (which, to be fair, is a pretty amazing magazine - listen to me, ladies. It has lots of awesome work-out tips, which are hilariously unattainable - things like, "To get a hot bod, why not benchpress 2x your own bodyweight for 50 reps?" or similar. I don't even really know what benchpressing means, though I have a vague idea. I just love the idea that I am allowed to read something like that without a member of the police coming by and confiscating it with a, "madam, are you aware that it is illegal to read about shit like this as if you could actually, ever, in your entire life, do? Just let go of the rag quietly, madam."

Anyway so I think I can benchpress about 0.5 of my bodyweight, which is, holy mackerel, pathetic. And when I do it I cry a little bit.

If indeed benchpressing is even what I think it is.

I LOVE IT.

Women's magazines are all, 'have you considered doing this pathetic step exercise 100000 times till you die of boredom?"  Men's Health - "have you considered doing this impossible strength exercise which will break you in half? I promise you won't be bored, just in agonising pain."

Women's Magazine: "Why not eat less and be slender and delicate?"
Men's Health: "WHY NOT EAT AN ENTIRE DEER. IF YOU'RE HARD ENOUGH. Great protein, by the way."

Women's Magazine: "We have no gadgets, unless it's to do with monitoring how many calories you're putting into your sad little mouth."
Men's Health: "I don't know if you're ready for the technology that we're about to unleash, but I think we may have just made a robot lover who also doubles as a jet-ski."

Next great thing about Men's Health (AUSTRALIA - I have to highlight this because I have no idea if Men's Health UK or indeed USA or whatever is equally titillating, so I have to be very specific as I have no wish to mislead), is that it is full of pictures of hot men.

True story.

Women's Magazines: full of pictures of hot women. No objection to this - lovely women always nice to gaze at.
Men's Health Australia: rammed with semi-naked buff bodies. Of men.  It's like soft-core porn mixed with longing aspiration.  "I wish my upper arms were like, 1/10th of yours. Or if I had 1/20th of your ab definition. Also, wow. Just wow."

***

Sorry, I lost concentration. Where was I?

***

Ok. So the long and short of it is that I have this goal which is to beat Tim at arm wrestling, and as he is pathetically, adorably puny I think that I may actually win. However to be doing this I have taken on the MANTRA of Men's Health, Australia, which is to go to the gym like a loon and swim like a loon and also eat protein like a loon. As we're still trying to eat less meat, this means that I've eaten more soy that I've ever done in my entire life before.

And I'm Chinese.

I want to emphasise that's just a lot of soy, all right? And other stuff. Peanut butter. Quinoa. Whole deer.* So I am genuinely slightly concerned I am not going to be fitting into the wedding dress, which was purchased at a stage in my life whereof I knew not of Men's Health, Australia, and thus was floating around in a bubble of slenderness which I fear I will never attain again, through my devotion to BUFFING UP.


*So in the latest issue, they interviewed Hugh Jackman, which was like,

Interviewer: "Yo, Hugh Jackman, how'd you get to be so buff?"
Hugh Jackman: "So I just pretend I'm Wolverine, and then I can lift all the bad stuff."
Interviewer: "Wow."

So Hugh Jackman's Thing - in case you didn't get it from my elegant summary - is that he IMAGINES himself to be Wolverine when he's exercising, and that's how he does it! Genius. Madness. The mantra around our house now is, 'What would Wolverine do.'

Tim: "Connie, did you just drop a piece of toast onto the floor this morning?"
Me: "Maybe..."
Tim: "And you forgot to pick it up."
Me: "Dude, would Wolverine pick up a frigging piece of toast from the floor? That's not what Wolverine is about, man."
End of discussion.

And Wolverine would, I'm sure, eat a whole deer.

But we haven't.

Thanks for listening.

***

Ok so I'm going to talk about something else other than my Men's Health obsession (which Tim has now picked up on and is now trying to eat even more than me in an attempt to buff up faster than me. YOU'RE GONNA LOSE, TIM. I WORK PART TIME AND I HAVE A BIGGER MOUTH THAN YOU.)

So, what's been up?

We've been to Auckland to see the rugby, which was a truly exciting occurrence. The All Blacks haka-d like whoa, and England put up a pretty damn good game, and Tim wore an England shirt and we got heckled for it. And it was a bit like Men's Health but in live -

Ok, I'll stop.

I've also discovered a blog, which, everyone else has discovered for like forever, but whatever, I'm in New Zealand, so cut me a break, ok? 

It is here. Like all fashion blogs it is best taken in very small doses lest the chortling it turns you to turns into a dire despair at the state of the western world and WHAT HAVE WE DONEary, but small doses are quite chortletastic. I hope this is of use to one of you during any sad revision or work times that should come upon you. 

Sun's finally come out as well for our last week here, so I feel like I ought to go out and have a swim or something or whatever, enjoy this beautiful place for all that it's got. 

I'm getting really very, very excited about coming back to see all of you. And to do a whole load of shopping. New Zealand does that to you. I was talking about this to a friend who's also been over and she said, 'yeah I know. I'm not even a big shopper but...when I went back to the UK for a visit, I went shopping. In my own wardrobe. It was amazing. I was like, 'holy crap, clothes! Clothes that...fit...and....look nice. Shit.'' So if anyone wants to join me on an expedition, be my guest. I'm going to go a little bit CRAZY, given that the only clothes I've bought in the last year have been 2 white t-shirts.  I mean, I feel virtuous, but COME ON I am a housewife currently and if a housewife can't spend all day spending her husband*'s money** and then have something alluring to slip into later as per all the housewifery advice books tell me then she is GOOD FOR NOTHING. 

*not my husband

**I am also technically being paid to be a housewife, as I've just taken leave for my last week. So also not his money***. 

***PRINCIPLE STILL HOLDS.

Speaking of husbands, Tim referred to himself as my 'boyfriend' the other day .I found that weird, given soon we'll be eternally and legally bound as HUSBAND and WIFE and I also feel that 27 is perhaps too old to have a boyfriend, and perhaps we should be saying, 'partner' as if we were in a law firm together, which is what I do say most of the time, so why suddenly revert to boyfriend? Perhaps the clue is that he used it in a sentence in which he referred to himself as, 'maybe the best boyfriend of all time?' and I do feel that 'partner' in that context would not have been just as stylistically apt, though still linguistically sound. 

To all other boyfriends/people with boyfriends out there: I'm sure Tim wasn't making a *general* statement. Anyway, I agreed with him, in spite of the likely issues related to verifying his claim, and despite his use of the clunky 'boyfriend'. 

That's just what Wolverine* would do.

*(I want to make it clear here that I am Wolverine. Emotionally supporting my partner. Being loving. Deadlifting 220lbs or whatever. Beating him at arm-wrestling. All me.)

***

See you back in the UK, folks! 

326kg

That was how much that big pumpkin weighed from my last post. I realised I never told you. Poor things, you must have been tossing about every night, unable to sleep, weeping into your respective pillows and gnashing your teeth in despair at not knowing. Well I hope this brings you peace.

326kg! When I told Graham he just said, 'they grow twice as big as that in the US.' That blows my mind.

Rachel: 'do you know what the secret to big pumpkins is, Connie?'
Me: (obviously) 'No.'
Rachel: (stage whisper) 'TPN.'

The weather's picked up again for a last hurrah but the sea is absolutely bloody freezing. I know because I tried to go for a swim in it last week and nearly froze my face off. That's the last time I make that mistake this year.

Instead I've been looking at it.

Here it is from the Coromandel.

And here it is from the Mahia peninsula.

(Fig. 1: Tim recoiling from the effort of stone skimming)

And here it is (distantly) from a pool of hot water we're burning our bottoms in in Hot Water Beach. Yes - we finally finally got to Hot Water Beach and we had a proper spade and we managed to find some hot water. We even stayed in Tatahi lodge, where I stayed with Robert the previous year.

It didn't feel like more than a year could have passed, but here we are, almost a year and a half in New Zealand, almost two years out of the UK.

And only a month and a half left until we finish work and go back (via a bit of South Island of course) and get back on the treadmill. Now that the time is almost up we've been ticking off the last few things to do on our list. The East Cape drive for one:

The East Cape drive isn't really one you can hurry and it's not really a drive that tourists do that often - it takes about 3 days and nothing really happens on it: all there is to see is wonderful views and a load of beaches 'great for lazin', surfin', and fishin',' as the local guide says (really: the guide is basically a list of beach names with apparently random permutations of 'great for'and 'lazin', surfin', fishin', sailin', swimmin', and kayakin' - but mostly 'lazin'') and some beautiful Maraes and churches:

This is the country where Whale Rider is set and Boy was filmed - real Maori heartland. It feels along the East Cape that we are heading into another country altogether, that we've barely scratched the surface of while we've been here - not The Real New Zealand, but A Real New Zealand, another version of NZ we've only caught glimpses of.

The days have definitely turned chillier now and it is autumn now for sure. We went to our old favourite, the arboretum, for a walk this weekend and everything was a glow of orange and red.

A lot of people have asked me 'what do you do when you're not at work' which is quite a hard question to answer. I can't really quantify it, but I know I have done everything I could. I've got nothing tangible to show for it but memories and a deep, abiding satisfaction and contentment and feeling completely refreshed, recharged and ready to get back onto the training ladder and work my little guts out back in the UK. But all the while knowing that there's some corner of the world that remains, as the poet didn't say, forever East Cape, forever for lazin' and surfin' and always sunny and the same, and which doesn't give a rat's ass about what I'm doing with my career. Which is tremendously satisfying.

I don't even wish I'd started writing my Great  Novel (again, for the 14th time.) This time is all about collectin' material and lettin'it coalesce. And reading fiction and doing crosswords and watching reruns of Elementary. It all settles down, I reckon, and gets used up for a great plot some time in the future, maybe.

And, in the wise words of my Ed Supervisor back at Oxford, Susie Dunachie - 'the best advice I've ever got about my medical career was from my Supervisor. And he said, 'the most important thing to know in medicine, Susie, is when to slack off.''

And she then proceeded to tell me a story about how she flew away for a 2 week holiday to Thailand when she was meant to be doing a PhD and when she came back she has to explain away her tan by pretending it was jaundice and the whole time she had been in ITU.

 Well I got my tan from a beach on the Coromandel. And I've got no regrets. And no publications this year, and no audits. And I feel pretty damn good about that too. I reckon that's about the last year for the next 40 or so I'll be able to say that, and I'm not sure I'm going to appear quite ever so jaundiced again.

Love
Connie

Brrrrrrr

Dear friends,

Another month, another tardy update, and basically no excuse since I am, as Tim reminds me every so often, a lazy sod who's only working part time. Even less excuse - it's horrid weather outside right now. Tim's supervisor spends most of her time shaking her head and wailing, "it's not meant to be like this! This is the most rain Gisborne has ever had!"

It's making me just a little bit homesick for the UK.

Easterlies are indeed blowin' hard for Easter in Gizzy.  It's been raining here 'solidly' for three weeks, if by 'solidly' one means 'in gusty showers and with plenty of fine spells in between', but everyone's been complaining bitterly about it and how it's basically 'ruined' the giant pumpkin festival.

They really are giant, aren't they? The biggest one in that group was 190kg.

And how much do you think this one weighed?

(PS - I guessed wrong.)

The pumpkin festival was a perfect Sunday activity of Gisborney joy, summing up all that's great about Gisborne - so much community, lots of farmers from the market setting up different stalls (snail races and pumpkin bobbing, for example - see above for some immense pumpkin bobbing), scarecrow making, pumpkin petanque, squash throwing.....it was just immensely enjoyable. And it made the front page of the Gisborne herald, because obviously this is front page news.

This, for example - the longest apple peel IN GISBORNE. Definitely newsworthy.

speaking of snail races....

Obviously we chose number 42 as it seemed the most lively and also, well, you know, 42. How could we not? I loved the idea that someone had been out to collect all those snails and paint those tiny numbers on the backs of each. It was just so wonderful.

Sadly, our snail came in pretty much last. It got into a big snail orgy in the middle and never quite recovered. 

We also met up with a small friend of ours who was having a great time selecting some squashes for the squash throwing competition.

Otherwise, things are going much as usual in Gizzy. My most recent clinic highlight was a nice older chap who after the examination, came over and said, 'well you've been a lovely girl, so would you like some peppermints?' and before I could react had tipped a HUGE load of peppermints all over the table - I mean, all over the notes I was writing in, and the desk and everything. 

'Good for the digestion,' he assured me as he toddled out.

I wasn't sure what to do with about 20 peppermints rolling for their tiny lives around the ophthalmology clinic so I wrapped them up carefully in a bit of tissue paper and I put them in my bag. I couldn't throw them away - I mean, really - but I'm just not that sure about eating them. How clean is the ophthalmology clinic? I mean - pretty clean - but clean enough to put in my mouth? But clearly this is ridiculous as I've been known to eat stuff that's fallen on the floor in my house and I know how dirty that is (very.)

Anyway, the peppermints remain in my bag to run away and fight another day while I ponder this conundrum.

***

I am really quite looking forward to going back to the UK, really. I've found out my first rotation, which is Windsor. I'm not sure how I feel about being so close to Maidenhead, for it reminds me of the poem. Still, Windsor looks very jolly and it's a nice eye department, so I hear. I'm looking forward to it all. And a cold Christmas! I'm definitely looking forward to a cold Christmas.

Still, we have 2 months and a bit left in Gizzy, and when the sun has been out, we've been making the most of it:

Ice creams on the beach.

These are wonderful 'real fruit'ice creams where they tip a load of fruit (blueberries, strawberries, whateverberries) in with a load of ice cream and blend it all up and then squirt it out into the biggest cone in the world. 

Note to self: you've done this before, Connie. You tried to eat a whole one and made yourself sick So when Tim says, 'no, I think we can just share one', don't have a tantrum and demand a whole one to yourself. The words, 'it's fine, I'll finish it no problem' will come back to haunt you. And while doing that once is a bit silly, doing it twice is just ridiculous.

Snorkelling in the Marine Reserve.

What is it about snorkeling that makes you so tired? The water here was so warm (and this was only a couple of weeks ago) that it was like being in a spa. A lovely, lovely spa. 

Well it's all buggered now of course. Bloody freezing out there. I had to wear a cardigan today. UNBELIEVABLE.

We also went for a walk up Kaiti  Hill, which has a memorial to Captain Cook which does not resemble Captain Cook (a plaque at the bottom apparently reads, 'who was he? We just don't know.') We tried and failed to find this statue, perhaps hindered in our attempts by this helpful notice. Where exactly are we again?

This was a lovely sunset I have to share with you off our balcony. With the eye of faith you can just see the sea in the far distance.

This was an almost daily scene for us after work, before the clocks changed anyway - a bit of post work surfing down at Makorori, which in Maori roughly translates to, 'watch the idiot beginner surfers fall over for free.' 

You can just see me in the car window...

I think there's just nothing more beautiful than this landscape.

Except for the rest of NZ, I suppose.

Mum and daughter team about to take to the water for a sunset surf.

What a country. 

Still 2 months left. 

Winter is coming

These are the last glorious days of summer. I've lost count of how many people have commented to me that 'Winter Is Coming' in a voice laden with Capitals. Is Gisborne simply filled with Game of Thrones fans or are they just very preoccupied with the seasons? We have heard that there's not much to do in winter here. Given that the town is famous for surf, beach, and vineyards, I can see their point. Still, time to drink all that wine accumulated over the years eh?

So these are the last days of summer.

We went to Auckland again over the weekend. I had an ophthalmic meeting in Hamilton, which was heaps of fun - really very very nice to meet registrars my own age or just a bit older and to chat to them about careers, eyes and non-related silly things. I shadowed Graham in clinic then did acutes, and then we had  a very relaxed lunch out, an afternoon of presentations, and then quite a riotous dinner afterwards on the little kids' table (translation: the registrars' table. Reg1: "come sit with us!" Reg2: (waving a bottle of wine) "we have little kids' juice!"). Lots of laughter and fun and exceedingly frivolous chat in contrast to the adults' table followed (translation: consultants' table. Reg3: (raising her voice) "hahaha! Yes, we are laughing, but we are just having a good chat about the latest ophthalmic trials.")

Auckland was lovely - saw Rich and Kiri again, now all moved in, and we ate a lot of delicious baked goods on the way over to Waiheke on Saturday (see above) in preparation for our bike around Waiheke.

Mistake.

Tim and I have biked around a few vineyards in our time. Napier. Martinborough (we didn't even bike Martinborough - we just walked). Marlborough. I bike around Gizzy (though not to vineyards) and around Palmy (ditto that) for work. Everywhere we've done was pretty flat, and we've become old and lazy in the face of NZ's exceeding flatness. We were dimly aware of all the volcanoes and hills around, but 'surely nothing is as bad as Headington Hill' as we said to ourselves, blithely picking out a bike for our tour of Waiheke. 

Hideous. 

Waiheke is basically one big hill, studded all over with little hills, up and down and up and down and up and bloody down all over the place. I was clearly far too self congratulatory about having done Headington Hill at one point in the dim and distant past, conveniently forgetting that I hadn't cycled a proper hill for about 2 years. I was destroyed. 

Luckily we had a lot of wine and delicious food to comfort us, and then beer and delicious dessert, and then more wine and more food, and then eventually we ran into the sea in our underwear as we were just too bloody hot, and that was the best thing ever, until we had to put our clothes back on again.  

Me and Rich 

underweared

beautiful Waiheke

Auckland gets a bad press really in NZ as it's almost a real city, but it was very beautiful in the sunset, with the Sky Tower on the horizon. I love the summer light and night in NZ. It's sad it's starting to fade. 

One more day of blue sky

We also thought we'd document the last days of Gizzy summer to remember it all by. Here's the railway bridge we cross all the time, with some kids sitting on - there are always kids sitting on the bridge daring each other to jump off. I've been saying I'm going to jump off for ages but never have yet. Maybe this week.

Classic after-work drinks at the Gisborne wine centre - a flight of Chardonnays.

Making vitamin D like there's no tomorrow. I love that light.

Our morning walk to the Farmers' Market - about 10 minutes down the river. 

Need a pear?

Our local cheeseman, who keeps us in halloumi

It's melon season!

and the very last of the strawberries

Brunch after the market (well deserved)

Roll on Autumn 2014 :-) (and then Summer, and then Autumn again!)

YES EYES YES

Sorry for the deathly silence, dear chaps. It has simply been that things have been somewhat hectic around here, first with our pre-emptive holiday to the South Island, which was thoroughly wonderful and involved more sun and sand than I could comfortably shake a stick at:

- and then our rather sad journey back to the UK for interviews - one week apart from each other, so we crossed in midair somewhere above the Pacific - in which we spent approximately 1.7% of the time attending interviews, approximately 45% of the time travelling, and approximately 100% of the time feeling jet-lagged, grumpy, and generally unhappy - 

- and then coming back to NZ (magically, the jet lag did indeed reverse itself, which was a relief after a week of waking up at 3am. I drank more warm milk than you could possibly imagine. To no avail.) Our beautiful friends Rich'n'Kiri had just moved to Auckland so I spent a happy weekend helping them unpack, lubricated by a trip to Waiheke island and of course, some more wine at their notable vineyards.  

Lunch with Kiri.

Rich'n'Kiri's glorious Deck overlooking Auckland harbour

All this was very pleasant of course but it could not truly distract me from the horror that was my interview. Dear folks, I will keep you out of suspense (and you probably know anyway) by telling you straight off that both Tim and I got our first choices so we will be back in Oxford this coming summer. This is such unbelievably wonderful news that it hasn't quite sunk in for either of us. We got our notifications on the same day, at 3am NZ time. We were, of course, fast asleep, despite Tim suggesting that I might not be able to sleep:

Me: "I think I'll sleep fine tonight."

Tim: Good. Do you think you'll be able to get to sleep ok?"

Me: "Yes."

Tim: "That's great! I think I'd probably stay awake worrying if I were you. Like, not forever. Just for maybe an hour. And I'd probably check my email a few times in that time. But just for an hour. And you think you'll sleep through?"

Me: "Yeah probably."

Tim: "Good! No, that's good for you. But if I were you I'd probably be waking up every half an hour or so just to check my email. And then if there wasn't any news I probably wouldn't be able to get to sleep for another half an hour or so. These are approximate timings. And I'd probably wake up maybe 3 or 4 times. Probably. Max, anyway. Anyway I'm glad you think you'll be able to sleep well."

Me: "!!!"

Generally I do sleep well, as I am of a fatalistic bent. My well sleepingness, however, has no relation to how complacent I felt about the upcoming revelations. I have bored everyone stiff with just how awfully I thought I'd done in the interviews so I will not recount it here. Suffice to say, I had spent most of the preceding weeks googling 'ophthalmology masters' 'volunteering in malawi' and 'things to do if you don't have a job but all you're really interested in is eyes HELP' with mixed results. 

So when the results came through it was very, very exciting and now we can at last relax and start making plans about our future! The wedding! The honeymoon! Buying a house! All sorts of grown up things!

Getting the news also meant we were able to kick back and really enjoy our weekend in Napier. It was Art Deco weekend, and I have never seen so many people dressed up and thoroughly enjoying themselves. It was blisteringly hot and absolutely beautiful and we spent it with people that we love. And ended it with a particularly camp performance of the Marriage of Figaro. Which was wonderful. We stayed over at Sarah's wonderful parents' vineyard again. I run out of superlatives.

The view through their living room window

I love this little man

Wine tasting with Rick

So many options

Insanely hot

Frolicks in the fountain

Cheese goes well with wine eh?

Serious peach eating faces.

These people make me happy. As do peaches.

So in summary: 

we will all be seeing you back in Oxford in August. 

Can't wait, but also sad our NZ adventure is slowly drawing to its inevitable close. Graham offered me another year in Gisborne as ophthal reg if I didn't get the Oxford job, and that would have been the sweet silver lining on a very bitter pill, to thoroughly mix my metaphors. Still, Oxford!

There isn't anywhere quite like it.