The Pride Story, part 3 of 3
I had coffee with my mother the morning that I told this story, and she said I remembered it slightly wrong. She didn’t want to kill the weta, it was my dad, who is completely phobic about them. Perhaps because he grew up on the fringes of the Karori reservoir, which is now home to copious giant weta with giant gnashing mandibles. It’s his birthday today. Happy birthday, William!
In other news, I got my ‘Little Treasures’ in the mail on Saturday. I’m on a double-page spread in glorious technicolour. It’s a little overwhelming to see your work, so bright, on glossy printed paper. I had to shut it and then open it again to look at it properly. You might recognise it from a previous post.