Tonight feels like a gentle pause before the calendar turns, the kind of evening that asks nothing more of us than to show up with something warm to share and an open heart. We’re heading up the road to our landlord’s and now dear friend’s home for a New Year’s Eve gathering. Dave and Enge have opened their doors once again, and like all the best parties, this one comes with a simple request: everyone brings a dish, everyone contributes to the table, everyone belongs.
In our highly functional kitchen, the air already carries the comforting scent of Italian comfort food. We’re making wagyu beef Italian meatballs, rich and tender, which I’ll pre-cook and simmer slowly in homemade red pasta sauce. It’s the kind of recipe that doesn’t rush, that asks for patience and rewards it generously. Just before serving, we’ll top the meatballs with hand-grated mozzarella cheese, still soft and slightly warm from the block. Tom will bring along his brandy, while I’ll tuck my bottle of white wine in the cooler bag, chilled and ready to pour.
Most of the guests will be familiar faces, people we met at the last party Dave and Enge hosted, the day after we arrived in New Zealand. It feels like a lifetime ago now, especially considering how quickly we fell ill after that evening. There’s something comforting about returning to a place where we were welcomed before we were sidelined by sickness, where laughter and conversation first eased us into this new chapter. Tonight feels a bit like a do-over, a chance to reconnect now that we’re finally ourselves again.
Today itself has been beautiful, one of those days that quietly insists you slow down and notice it. The windows are open wide, no screens to interrupt the breeze, and the sounds of the countryside drift in freely. Of course, that also means the flies will arrive in due time, uninvited and relentless. Flies are a constant nuisance here in New Zealand, just as they are in Australia, including Tasmania, where we’ll be headed in just 43 days. Forty-three days. It hardly seems possible. Time is flying by at a pace that’s both thrilling and a little startling.
Still, we’re savoring every moment in this blissfully quiet and serene location. The stillness here has been healing in ways we didn’t fully appreciate until we slowed enough to feel it. The pace will pick up considerably when we reach Tasmania in February, and we know that energy and activity will have their own rewards. For now, we’re content with gentle days like this one.
Today will remain intentionally quiet. I’ll do my daily exercises, grounding myself in routine and gratitude, and once this post is finished, I’ll sit down to do my nails, a small, almost meditative ritual that feels like self-care in its simplest form. Tom is happily relaxed, absorbed in Ancestry.com, his favorite pastime. He can lose hours tracing family lines and stories, and I love watching him do it, so completely at ease.
As the sun lowers and evening approaches, we’ll gather up our contributions and head up the road, ready to welcome the new year among new friends. From our hearts to yours, we wish every one of our readers a safe and Happy New Year, wherever you may be in the world, in whatever time zone you call home. May the year ahead bring health, peace, and many shared tables.
Be well.
Photo from ten years ago today, December 31, 2015:
