The Rose in the Lily Pond

For a week, my only company was an overly affectionate deaf cat. I was alone in the remote location of Te Kopuru house sitting a beautiful wooden house for a couple on holiday. The cat, small fry – named after its previous owner Mrs Fry, pretty much loved me to death, so it’s unfair to say that I didn't have company, but for a week I was that crazy cat lady that everyone dreads turning into. Beautiful house in the country I got a taste for what it would be like to live in solitude. It had its moments – I practised cart wheels on the lawn – probably the most ungraceful sight – but hey, no one was around to judge my awful technique, and it felt liberating flinging my legs into the air and plonking them on the ground again, until the unsettling thought of cracking my scull open and nobody being around to call an ambulance crossed my mind. The lawn, and the river at the end - what a perfect place to be alone.  I have mixed feelings about living alone; on the on

Most of the time I’m like Bridget Jones and set impossible and unrealistic resolutions for myself with the promise that next year will be different – of course I’ll lose 10 kilos, stop drinking coffee and somehow fall into a big pile of treasure next year. 2012, however, proved quite productive. I set four goals for myself and completed three. To be fair, one of those goals was to get glasses and could be completed by a quick trip to good ole spec savers. It went from easiest to hardest with the next tasks, finish my masters and get a job writing, a bit harder but also ticked off. The last task, host my first murder mystery night, is still sitting on my to-do list, but hey, three out of four isn’t too bad. I knew what I wanted out of 2012, I wanted to begin my career and I knew that it was the year that it was going to happen but 2013 I’m not so sure about - now that I have started on the career ladder, I’m not actually certain if it was so important in the first place.