My love affair with America began with TV in the 1970s.
The first time I cook a turkey is a week before my mother dies.
I’m a late convert to podcasts. My introduction was on a camping trip when a friend sat on a chair for five days straight as she listened to Serial. I didn’t get it.Continue reading “Podcasts. What the hell are they?”
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”
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.
I’ve never wanted to be somewhere else more than now. Continue reading “Cursed with the somewhere elses”
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…..”
In five decades, my husband has:
lived in three different countries by the age of 10
become a great cook Continue reading “The Birthday Hat”
As a child, my letterbox was a link to the outside world. Continue reading “Letterboxes”
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”