Sunday 10 June 2012


"No-one realises how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old familiar pillow..."
Lin Yutang (1895-1976)

The slenderest of porkies got us reasonably good seats on the flight home (remind me to tell you my strategy one day) but after 12 hours and 40 minutes crammed into a flying tin can, I now understand how sardines must feel.

Having lost a day to the international date line vortex, our bodies still think it's Saturday. But at least someone in Welly remembered to turn on the sun (it's a bit colder than what we've grown accustomed to, but no mind) and so far we've done two loads of washing, walked to the vege market, worked our way through piles of mail and kissed the Brizzle so much he is now sopping wet. Tiredness, however, is starting to worry the back of my eyes and I fear it will be a very early night.

But in a pleasant distraction from post holiday trauma, today's Sunday Magazine ran my high heel detox piece, the one where I had to drag my shoes across town for a photoshoot the day before we flew to San Francisco.

Yup, those are my stumpy legs in the photo...



  1. please please send me the full article, would LOVE to read it. hope you are both really good if a little bit tired xx

  2. Thanks darling. Will post you a hard copy with the wee gift. First day back at work - arghhhh! May be asleep by 3.00pm!




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