I went for a walk through Coburg cemetery the other day. Not somewhere I’d normally go but it’s within my 5 km limit plus I’d run out of walks. Not hard during a pandemic when you end up feeling that you’re walking around in circles.
Continue reading “A walk amongst the graves”Author: Erica Murdoch
A very pandemic birthday
I woke with a start on the eve of my birthday. It was 4am and my heart was racing. I woke from a dream where the sky had turned inky black and the turreted faux-Dakota building apartment complex across the valley – burst into flames.
Continue reading “A very pandemic birthday”Crush- Imaginary boyfriends – An update
Enough of the doom and the bloody gloom- I’m going to write something frivolous and have some fun.
It’s been three years since I last wrote a list of my crushes- named The Fucket List- Desirables Living and Dead. Maybe I should call it the dinner party list, the top 10 people I’d like to meet or simply, The Imaginary Boyfriend List.
A break in the clouds
For the past few weeks, apart from my daily one hour walk I sit on my exercise bike, switch on a podcast and “ride” for 30 minutes.
Continue reading “A break in the clouds”Cursed with the somewhere elses
I’ve never wanted to be somewhere else more than now. Continue reading “Cursed with the somewhere elses”
The Aunt and the Flying Kangaroo
Yesterday my aunt’s 101st birthday coincided with the final flight of the last Qantas 747. I’m trying to work out if the two are connected. Continue reading “The Aunt and the Flying Kangaroo”
Jobless and not really loving it but…..
I’m off on a new adventure. Jobless on the wrong side of fifty.
I had an inkling. Continue reading “Jobless and not really loving it but…..”
The Birthday Hat
In five decades, my husband has:
lived in three different countries by the age of 10
learned English
become a great cook Continue reading “The Birthday Hat”
Letterboxes
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”
