As a child, my letterbox was a link to the outside world. Continue reading “Letterboxes”
Mum
On New Year’s Eve, I sit on the bank of the Murrumbidgee River with my friend, Em. She slaps and curses at the mosquitoes buzzing around her ankles. A fish jumps in the middle of the river and a mopoke hoots its mournful cry. Our hurricane lamp is a beacon for moths. Our warm champagne tastes silky smooth and sweet in the darkness as we toast in 1985. Continue reading “Mum”
A movie a day keeps the virus away
How much is too much TV? At the beginning of COVID, I was on the news cycle 18 hours a day. If I wasn’t watching television I was scrolling the internet for updates, info and validation. I say validation because I needed to know that my feelings were not unreasonable and other people out there were angry, frustrated and worried.
Continue reading “A movie a day keeps the virus away”
Love in the time of Corona
The phrase ‘Love in the time of Corona,’ just popped into my head ( thanks to Gabriel Garcia Márquez). Too good to waste, so now I have to write a blog post around it. Shit. But I must write as it has been a month since my last blog post. Continue reading “Love in the time of Corona”
My Corona
I’m not sick.
I’m not in isolation.
I’m not displaying symptoms of Continue reading “My Corona”
Night flight over Melbourne
It’s just before 11pm. A plane flies lower than usual. Continue reading “Night flight over Melbourne”
A Steady Hand
So much has been written already about these bush fires – tales of hope and heroism, the wonderful blog of an RFS volunteer in NSW, the raw first-hand accounts on social media. I felt that I had very little to add as others have said it all. Continue reading “A Steady Hand”
Looking for Xmas Perfect
For years I have been looking for Xmas Perfect—the family Xmas portrayed in Enid Blyton storybooks, TV commercials, and American sitcoms. Continue reading “Looking for Xmas Perfect”
Of wombats and kittens
The other week I met a wombat. Continue reading “Of wombats and kittens”
Thoughts in a traffic jam.
I’m sitting in a traffic jam. Four lanes of cars snaking their way up Punt Road Hill. Continue reading “Thoughts in a traffic jam.”
