Long term readers will recall my tearful reunion with Jack last year. Jack is a bit of a doggy delinquent and I’ve collected him from many far flung places over the years. If I’d only strapped a Go-Pro to his melon, I might have made enough to cover his bail bills! Our hound is a first class scoundrel, but he’s also a first rate judge of character. So when he became particularly enamoured with ...
time-worn tucker
Raspberry Yoghurt Cake and Mother’s Day when someone is missing
I was picking my cuticles while I sat in my GP’s office a few months after David died. I was telling him that my milk was drying up and how I was dreading the approach of Christmas. He listened and agreed - Christmas would be shit. Then he gently suggested that worrying about it would make every day leading up to Christmas turn to shit too. I had to remind myself of his advice when Mother’s ...
jam roly poly. it’s no match for fairy bread.
We were under strict instructions not to be late to kindy yesterday. This, of course, meant something would inevitably go wrong. So I shouldn’t have been surprised that, just as we were about to walk out the door, the Little Sister called out “Mummy, hurt”. She was not, in fact, hurt. She was covered in her own excrement from the bottom down. A poonami had struck – weren't these the exclusive ...
Lim’s fabulous Kra-Praow Muu | Sweet Basil Pork
I'm confident that my brother in law Craig, knew my answer when he phoned to ask whether I'd like an impromptu cooking class from one of his mates visiting from Singapore. A few hours later, James and Lim arrived at the farm, car and arms loaded with ingredients for what became a five course Thai feast. Lim is a beaut cook and also a talented architect. I, of course, only learned this by ...
no foe shall gather our harvest | ANZAC traditions
The first time I attended the Dawn Service at Orchid Beach, I was moved to tears. Listening to the waves and the birds during a moment of silence; I pictured the young men of Gallipoli and the ways in which their lives and the lives of the families were changed forever that morning. We were so stirred by the service, it’s become an annual pilgrimage. Each ANZAC morning, we wake sleepy children ...
permanence and peekaboo
Babies don't understand object permanence. If they can't see it, they think it doesn't exist. It's only after they grow that they start to understand just because their block is under a blanket, it's not gone for good. Mum has only disappeared from view. I'm beginning to think that death is the same. I'm no longer in the same room as my brother David, but it's rudimentary to think he's gone ...