I need to distribute the cherries and I also need to find a slab of stone for the kitchen island. Nicki has green in mind and that suits me. The choice is overwhelming, except in green. But the slabs are magnificent. There's colour and movement, it's like looking into flowing water. I look round another warehouse but nothing leaps out at me. With this, as with other choices I have to make, you have to do some leg work to find out what you are looking for. To get your eye in so to speak. You find out what you don't want and go from there. I photograph the slabs and myself, for the record.
I'm exhausted when I drop in on Karen with cherries. She's thrilled. Karen was one of my first drop in friends when I returned from London to live in Christchurch in 1997. We catch up over a cuppa. Ruth's watching tennis but is equally stoked with a dose of cherry love. Ruth's the only surviving sister of my mother and living in a rest home. But a posh one.
I feed the cat on the way to an art exhibition then go to Sherry's new house for dinner. She's proud as punch of hew new home; it's a positive step on the long journey home. The house is 1930's, old style with an established garden and a glorious red door. After 25 years in London Sherry is unpacking boxes and finds treasures she's stored from the age of 18. Surprising what we keep.
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| Still searching for a slab |
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