This post is about the perils of being naughty, and of new mothers. And baking. It begins with a strange tale, drifts off into a discussion of sourdough starters (or ‘mothers’) and then documents our adventures with creating a new mother. Lucy Clifford and The New Mother Lucy Clifford (1846-1929) wrote … Continue reading
It was 1955, and she was twenty-three, living in Sydney and selling dresses in a department store. She had realised that she didn’t have the money to finish her medical training, and, after a year working in various hospitals, that she didn’t want to be a nurse. Nevertheless, she was … Continue reading
Ten generations ago the queen entered the earth. And each generation has had its drummer. Wee Whittler is ours. Small and dark and sombre, she sits cross-legged on top of the mound, at dawn and at dusk, and patters and pounds the world into waking. Into sleep. When I was a child … Continue reading
Kay was one of those they’d Banished. Like prisoners in the old days, or the mad or the homeless, the Banished were as good as dead. In the eyes of the law, anyhow. They had no right to roof or food or love, no right to speak (in public or in … Continue reading
Today’s guest post brought to you by the beautiful, and talented, Rebecca Jessen. As some of you know, Bec is very dear to me, so I won’t rave on about her talents as a writer, at the risk of appearing prejudiced. BUT, she’s an impressively alert, attentive and tender writer. … Continue reading
— for B– It’s true what they say; that you’re too young for me. And so I’ve decided to stop here, at the age I am, and wait for you. Later tonight, while you’re sleeping, I will walk into the forest near our home, and find a shaded grove with … Continue reading
Today’s guest post is brought to you by a young performance poet I first met at a strange little poetry gig at Rick’s Garage in Palmwoods. Indie Adams blew the rest of the poets off the stage with her combination of strength and vulnerability. This short piece was inspired by … Continue reading
There was nothing, and nobody, left to save. It hurt to look at the emptiness, but it was no good turning away, or closing our eyes; because the absence was also inside us. So we walked away. What else was there to do? We packed our suitcases and put on our coats. Laced our … Continue reading
This month, I was invited to participate in an online version of the Exquisite Cadaver parlour game, being hosted/published over at The Conversation. I was #7 in a series of ten writers who participated. We each received an email with the preceding entries, and were given about 24 hours to … Continue reading
Well … yes, I know. I took a little break over the Christmas/New Year period. I hope you did, too. But here’s a little something to kick of 2015. Jane Austen’s Sophia reproached her brother, Frederick, in Persuasion, saying that, “none of us expect to be in smooth waters all our days.” … Continue reading