Fran Cleland, ARR.News

My dear long-time friend, Jean, refers to me as “the lost soul.” Not because of my sins, but because of my hopeless sense of direction.

At Mickleham you were one of my first Favourite roses, tough, free flowering, not much scent but so worthwhile, with your fabulous colours. You flowered constantly for more than 20 years, with not much attention and even managed to survive the bushfire not eight foot from you ...

Am I the only person in the entire world that loses socks? I can go into a shop and buy six pairs of identical black socks, the family will wear them once, throw them in the washing machine, and out will come 12 socks with different patterns that have obviously never met each other.

I have a confession to make, especially today when many of you think of me as kind, loving and a good friend. In truth, I am a mass murderer - a cold-blooded killer ... It must have been last night’s thunderstorm which took my reason...

The tree was beautiful and we loved it. It was a maple that was young and growing when we moved here after the fires, and was part of many different trees on the property, all quite immature ... Boy did it grow.

One 11 year-old Jack Russell female named Elizabeth, for scaring her parents and causing trouble. Worming day...dogs line up for treats...

I have come to the decision I am not perhaps avant garde. Looking up Webster, it says: "adjective - favouring or introducing new and experimental ideas and methods ... But I AM an Avant Gardener.

There’s something about late autumn that seems to kick start the urge to have things neat and tidy before the chills of winter, send us to hibernate in front of the fire so we rush around cutting limbs off trees, raking up leaves, deciding where to plant spring flowers. But with that done, we move inside, find the winter doonas, check the flues in the fires are clean, and then – worst of all – decide to tidy the house ...

I am not a fan of protests.  I really don’t see the point of marching up and down, blocking streets and shouting, especially when recently a TV reporter asked a group of young women the reason they were protesting and they really couldn’t give an answer. Even so, way back -  I did... just once...

I see it every day and think of the woman who loved it. This poor little house is in our main street, it's been for sale for two years ... I see it and think how much the original person must have loved it.