03.december.2025

Dear reader,

So much of what has happened so far toed on the line of ‘pics or it didn’t happen’. And fair enough, with this day and age, also known as attention span + reasonable doubt, it’s hard for someone to believe what took place unless there was evidence to back it up. You’ve read about the comings and goings. You’ve seen the transformations, the guests, the work. There’s always proof. 

This season, it’s been recipes. Collaborative posts. Musings and products from others but if you’ve noticed, none from me. If I must admit, it has been daunting to return. I think about how this season is half over, panic that there hasn’t been any update, begin writing about it, then scraping it within 10 seconds. Because what do you make of “no pics but it happened”? I fell in love with the city but would you believe me? 

It’s the way we’ve begun enjoying the house. When the sunlight comes streaming through the bedroom, I’m on the floor, crafting for the upcoming festivities. Sean, being able to utilise the kitchen to its fullest potential - batch making yuzu jam, loaves of chestnut & shio kombu focaccia. Making new friends and distributing them around because we’ve made too much. Luna choosing to stop by the pond on the way home from school and having a blast quacking at the ducks. Me, driving on my way to school pick-up and just in utter disbelief that this is the city we call home. 

I’ve unknowingly paralysed myself from this framework I’ve set up. Then I begun to ask myself, why does it matter? Who does it concern? What would happen if I just wrote. 

I’ve been working really hard in being unapologetic about doing things for myself. So I guess that’s what this is. You’re no longer updated by a new change or a transfornation. Instead, you’re just reading about the beginnings of an unrequited crush on a city. The hopeless romantic in me yearns for it to last. 

ash