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spare room

It takes as long as it takes: our baseboards.

Jamie, my partner, is a self-reliant country boy. Hiring contractors was never the done thing out in the bush; you either did repairs yourself, or you called in a few favours. To be fair, Jamie’s dad is a trained machinist with a workshop full of heavy-duty machinery, so he’s a bit handier than most, but I still feel proud that they can fix and build and cut and weld anything.  Continue reading »


Sand. patch. prime. repeat.

The worst accommodation I’ve ever stayed in was a decrepit hostel in Manhattan. Harsh words, but it cannot be described any more nicely than that. Run-down, no facilities, disinterested staff, overall pretty shady. What really made it special, though, was how the radiators were kept on full boil and we could barely sleep, even after opening the windows.  Continue reading »