Editor's letter
Over the summer break I spent time with family and friends in the Ruapehu district, in a cabin my children call the ‘ski shack’. It’s a tiny structure but one whose spaces feel comforting and encompassing. The rooms are small, the gable is high, and the gently creaking timber has the welcoming effect of inducing relaxation. There’s a few books scattered about the place, a rug here and there, and furniture that has seen better days, yet there’s a real sense of ‘home’ in the shack’s minute footprint. After a week or so beneath the mountain, we sought out the sea and found ourselves in Papamoa, in a house of opposite dimensions. Here, extensive spaces merged seamlessly into others — from most, the sound and smell of the ocean were…
