Cigarettes and brown cases…
Yesterday, I found a suitcase in Mum’s cupboards. It’s a lovely 1940’s suitcase – solid, in perfect condition and very, very brown…
Yesterday, I found a suitcase in Mum’s cupboards. It’s a lovely 1940’s suitcase – solid, in perfect condition and very, very brown…
Not long after Mum died, I was mucking around in the kitchen and I contrived (for want of a better word) a chocolate slice. My husband and I liked it and so I named it after Mum because kitchens and cooking were one of her favourite things…
Dark Mofo – Tasmania’s winter solstice festival that lasts ten days. Filled with on-the-edge art installations, a beautiful winter feast, astonishing creative thinking far outside the square and setting a buzz in our town when we could all slump in a heap with a dose of S.A.D’s…
A huge day working on the farm today. Too tired to cook dinner so we will have fish and chips…
Too tired to write Tobias out of his next trauma. Almost too tired to write a blog.
Instead, as the mellow yellow of late afternoon cast it’s caul over the farm and the shadows lengthened and the light became soft and dream-filled, I took my camera and tried to let it write a blog for me…
What is it about contentment?
The dictionary defines the word as ‘ease of mind’ but rather unusually, it’s plain old Wiki that gives me the best definition: ‘ Colloquially, contentment is simply a way of accepting one’s life state and being grateful or happy with it.’
Yes and yes again…
Been a pretty tough week in my neck of the woods this week. So what sustains me?
The dogs…
It’s Valentine’s Day and it’s raining outside.
What to do after one has exchanged chocolates with the love of one’s life?
What does one do in January, albeit the end of the month, and one’s eyes are tired from writing and the weather is disastrous, cold and so very NOT summer?
One hops in the car and heads up the coast to wave-watch…
Sometimes it’s great to just leave research books, pages of writing and notes and the computer far behind and spend the day with family, just thinking of nothing in particular. Trust me, the muse was there. How could she not be with the beauty of the place? But she was as prepared to just ‘be’ as I was…
*Play this song whilst you read this post.*
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Swnp4NOitxs
My first ever friend was at primary school – Sue – and she and I remained friends forever. Till she sadly died of cancer a few years ago. When I went to visit her for the last time at her home on the farm, it was just before my first book was published and I sat on the edge of her bed and she took my hand and said ‘I’ll be watching Prue, and I want you to do this and do it well. You were always the writer at school.’
Sue died the next day and I remember leaving her farm and driving through the gates and onto the dusty road and then pulling over and sobbing that such a vibrant person who took so much interest in everyone else’s lives should be leaving us…