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Quote Friday #19

Christmas can be a stressful time. High expectations, perhaps. Expecting peace and love and charity and good cheer, that your Christmas will look like the one in the magazine. Instead, you find yourself rushing about to parties that you’re not sure you really want to be at. Relationships strain as dormant feelings of resentment or hurt are brought to the surface. You eat too much, drink too much, all the while wishing you could lie in bed and read a...

Taking Stock : November

I woke up at 5.45 this morning, needing to pee. Normally I’d then get back into bed and sleep for a few more hours, but this morning, with the sun starting to filter through the blinds, I was just…awake. Rather than lying there annoying Steve, I decided to get up and go for a walk/run along the beach. Best. Decision. Ever. It’s going to be 31 in Melbourne today, but at 6am the sun hadn’t quite hit the esplanade, so...

Quote Friday #18

Are you a Leunig fan? I find myself drawn to his work, his child-like, often melancholy, yet still joyful take on life. When the to-do list seems to be getting choc-a-bloc and my mind becomes feverish, I think of this quote: “It is worth doing nothing and having a rest.” In this age of constant productivity and self-improvement, when every minute of the day is supposed to be accounted for and spent in the most useful way, I find this...

Quote Friday #17

“There is something wonderful in feeling the presence of the writer within you, of something wilful that seems to have a plan” George Saunders...

Taking Stock : October

October is almost over! Let’s take stock of this moment while we can… Making: presents for some upcoming birthdays…but it’s top secret Cooking: lentil sausage rolls (so the word sausage is obsolete, but ‘lentil rolls’ sounds kinda gross) to take to choir tomorrow morning Drinking: orange juice from the South Melbourne Market. Mmm. Reading: Bleaker House by Nell Stevens Trawling: through old family photos Wanting: more time more time more time Looking: forward to getting back out into nature over summer....

Quote Friday #16

Hey hey! Happy weekend to you and yours! I’m home alone this weekend and rather looking forward to it. I have a list of about twenty things I want to do – let’s see if I can do, well, maybe ten. This is not exactly a quote, more of an excerpt from an Ask Polly article I was reading today. It would be better if you read the whole article, which you can find here. I like the idea of deciding...

The House on the Highway

Steve and I spent the first two weeks of October at his grandparents’ house in Queenscliff. Staying there, in that house full of handwritten letters, flowery tins and shelves of old books, I couldn’t help but mentally revisit my own grandparents’ house. Something about the smell. Something about the era. Though my grandparents and Steve’s never met, their very different houses share certain qualities. My grandparents, Mum’s parents, lived in Mt Gambier, on the border with South Australia, right on...

Quote Friday #15

  I’ve been struggling a little this last week with the whole writing thang. Feeling discouraged, stupid, letting the mean voice get the better of me. Doubting myself, despite knowing that self-doubt is poison to creativity. Sometimes it’s hard to take your own advice. But then, today, the clouds parted. Good things are ahead, friends. I can feel it. I listened to this wonderful Conversations episode on my walk into the city this morning, Richard Fidler chatting with Richard Flanagan...

Advice to My 12 Year Old Self

Well hello there loyal reader, It’s been a bit quiet around these parts of late. Just the Friday quote and not much else, which is what comes from working on ‘other things’. As a wise writer-and-blogger friend of mine once said, a blog can be a great outlet for a writer as long as it doesn’t become all that you do. Perhaps I’ve taken that advice somewhat too literally. Anyway! I am still alive in the world and still writing,...

Quote Friday #14

“She stiffened a little on the kerb, waiting for Durtnall’s van to pass. A charming woman, Scrope Purvis thought her (knowing her as one does know people who live next to one in Westminster); a touch of the bird about her, of the jay, blue-green, light, vivacious, though she was over fifty, and grown very white since her illness. There she perched, never seeing him, waiting to cross, very upright. For having lived in Westminster – how many years now?...