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Hi.

Welcome to my blog. Come and stay for a while! 

crab fighting

When I'm rich and retired and have a room filled with so many gold coins that I can dive into it like in Duck Tales, I'm going to live in Karaka Bay.

It's a gorgeous beachside stretch of road that makes you feel like you're on holiday when in reality, you're only twenty minutes away from the city. The houses range from stylish modernist cubes to twee villas with climbing roses rambling up the sidings to shabby chic ramshackle pretend-sheds. There's even one house that has a spire, widow's walk, and a tower. Real estate fairytale stuff, people.

On this walk with the dog and my husband, we peered in rock pools, poked anemones with sticks, collected paua, and annoyed crabs hanging out underneath rocks. I also took creepshots of various residents doing various house stuff outside with their three-car garages wide open. None of which made it to this post. Because, as it turns out, middle-aged rich people doing chores in their fancy houses aren't really that interesting. Can you hear the jealousy, people? Can you hear it?!

your momma's jeans

your momma's jeans

where everyone knows your name

where everyone knows your name