When moths collide

By the end of my correspondence with the man from the outfit calling itself the leading property data, information, analytics and services provider in New Zealand and Australia, the First Born was...

In recent weeks I have been reminded you can take the girl out of Murchison, but you can’t take Murchison out of the girl.

I am blaming the fabulous Tami Neilson and friendship for my hypocrisy.

When I heard normally mild-mannered former district health board chairman Richard Thomson speak of punching politicians, I didn’t feel quite so embarrassed about the T-shirt I was concealing at...

At last, some Donald J. Trump news our family can use.

The fourth former in me longs to run away to join the coalition Cabinet, preferably as a New Zealand First or Act New Zealand minister.

The green-topped wheelie bin has been the highlight of my year.

Nobody, least of all me, can explain what I was thinking.

Over the past week I have been trying to channel my inner Joe Biden.

Everybody knows what a fuddy-duddy I am.

Privacy was on my mind when I was plunged into darkness in the Dunedin Railway Station women’s toilet this week.

Just because that’s the way it is, was my answer.

It surprised me to learn wokedom may be alive and well in my old hometown.

Rushing in where winged haloed ones might fear to tread, I have been devoting time this week to the prime minister’s reading list.

If you happen to see me on the street, you would be best to wave, smile and walk on quickly.

The Princess of Wales’ video announcement of her cancer diagnosis shows how bizarre the British Royal Family has become.

When you are being unfairly branded, things can quickly turn ugly.

My old-person credentials are not yet complete.

Bottling Black Doris plums on a hot Dunedin day may not have been the best time to be reflecting on the phenomenon which is Taylor Swift.