Letters from Home: Graffiti – the writings on the walls
Yeah ok I confess!!! I LOVE graffiti. Well, not the modern sort that is simply vandalism but I quite appreciate the angular artistic Picasso sort adorning walls around the city. I also find it interesting, as I drive along busy roads, that so often those who have a political message can’t spell...
Letters from Home: A tale of two Falcons
It's a simple truth that our family has always been Ford fans. For as far back as I recall the cars have been descendants of the original Henry... I recall driving off in a new model way back and hating leaving my treasured XC at the dealership ... My son has told the person who is taking him that Yuri is indestructible, surviving the 2014 bushfires and saving our dogs ...
Letters from Home: Servant to a dog
Eric, the male Scottish Terrier, thinks the sun shines out of our son. No one else matters. I am just the housemaid. I am permitted to feed him and say nice things and open and shut doors for him, but if my son appears... I cease to exist.
Letters from Home: The violin
Why is it that school teachers feel the need to torture the parents of their pupils? ... younger son for some reason decided to learn the violin. The teacher even let him bring it home to practice ... Ode to a Violin ...
Letters from Home: Will of the wasp
Once again, it was a case of act first, think later... If there were medals to be won for that trait, I could compete for Australia. It’s been a failing all my life and has, many times, got me into hot water. A nest of wasps appeared, the little European devils imported along with sparrows, rabbits, foxes and prickly pear from other places to be total pests to us Aussies ...
Letters from Home: How to buy homewares
Thinking back today on things I lost in the bushfire. My dad when he passed, left me some money, and I decided I would put it to good use and change things to improve the house we were living in a year before the fires. First was the front room carpet – and after doing so I was able to write a missive on - 'How to buy carpet in four not so easy lessons'. Read on, dear people, and learn. I can smile, now.
Letters from Home: The walk
It seems all my life I lead head first think later ... the family will happily vouch for this. After the bushfire, while we lived in the rental house on the hill in our local town, I decided to go for a walk. I am not really a walker, never needed to with farm work but off I set. First I intended to go just to the corner of Fitzroy Street and back ...
Letters from Home: The time I almost made it as a TV star
There are times in life that seem bloody hilarious when you look back at them, but at the time they were painfully embarrassing. I have been friends with Jean Purcell for many more years than either of us care to recall, and many years after what I am about to tell you happened – she still won’t let me forget it.
Letters from Home: Looking back
It wasn’t my best day. Revisiting your old neighbourhood can be a bittersweet experience. It's amazing how many memories come flooding back, and how different things can seem at the same time.
Letters from Home: Smile, you’re on candid camera
Well, sooner or later – usually later in life, your plumbing will act up, and your doctor will tell you that you will need a colonoscopy. It’s a word to put fear into your heart, and sympathetic expressions ( or evil chuckles) on the faces of friends and family who have endured the procedure. In case you’ve never had it done, I will share my firsthand experience.
