Category Archives: Time

Unsheltered by Barbara Kingsolver and other books that marked my year

If you’ve ever looked at the world and asked yourself, ‘What the hell just happened?’ you’ll enjoy ‘Unsheltered’ by Barbara Kingsolver, one of my favourite fiction writers. Set in Vineland, New Jersey, in 2016, we meet Willa Knox, a woman who’s just … Continue reading

Posted in Book Review, climate change, democracy, Habitat, Spirit of Place, Time, What Are You Reading? | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

The windswept doorstep of the year

August is almost over. And so is winter. I’ve loved the slowly lengthening days that carry the hope of spring. The newly lit hours that creep in after the solstice always seem so familiar; like a lost memory returned, promising … Continue reading

Posted in Habitat, Spirit of Place, The Animal Kingdom, Time, Writing Nature and Place | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Next Big Thing

“Bowl head! Bowl head!” “Stupid wog! Look at her hair!” I’d thought my 1920s Parisian style bop was quite sophisticated. “Did your mother put a bowl over your head to cut your hair?” one of them snarled, as the rest … Continue reading

Posted in My Mother and Me, The Sages, Time | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A Sapphire Blue Sydney Sky

“We’re going to stick it where the sun don’t shine.” That’s not actually what he said. It’s just what I imagined he was thinking. I blame such crassness on several days of ‘low residue white food’ diet followed by 24 hours of … Continue reading

Posted in My Mother and Me, The Sex Diaries, Time | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Get On Your Soap Box

This summer, as you enjoy Christmas carols or the symphony in the Domain, see if you can also spot an old time orator on their soap box in Speaker’s Corner. The tradition of Speaker’s Corner comes to us from London’s Hyde Park, … Continue reading

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Songlines, Starmaps and Ubiquitous Suburban Roads

A friend recently flew back into Sydney. It was after sunset and she had the window seat. As the plane banked lower and lower across the north west of the city she began to recognise some of the main roads that … Continue reading

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Rosemary that’s for Remembrance

“She ain’t got no money Her clothes are kinda funny Her hair is kinda wild and free Oh, but Love grows where my Rosemary goes And nobody knows like me.” I remember when Edison Lighthouse’s Love Grows was my favourite … Continue reading

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