9.17 Wendouree Service

I copied one of my favourite writers, Helen Garner, by taking the train to Ballarat and writing about what I saw, or what made me laugh. I take my seat on the 9.17 Wendouree Service. I have two older Aussie women behind me, chatting comfortably, and two young women in front speaking softly in Mandarin. They have coppery coloured hair, Asian hair dyed blonde. We pass the Melbourne Eye, long a topic of derision, and I tune in to the...

Glen Waverley Antique Bazaar – Part 2

Reader, I went back. On a cool and sunny Tuesday morning, I got back on my bike, literally, and rode to Richmond Station, but not before calling the Waverley Antique Bazaar to double check they were open. ‘Are you open today?’ I asked the young woman that answered, feeling embarrassed, knowing that the fact that she had answered the phone meant that yes, they were. ‘We’re open every day’, she said tersely. ‘Right, thanks. It’s just that I came last...

Glen Waverley Antique Bazaar – Part 1

It was a biscuit-tin sized hole in my life that compelled me to make the journey to Glen Waverley. I’d been cooking biscuits and cakes for friends and family and had nothing suitable in which to gift the baked treasures. A Tupperware container seemed cold and callous. A plastic plate with some Glad wrap over the top was just plain shabby. The only tins I could find in op-shops were rusty inside and out. If it was biscuit tins I...

The Guy Pearce Couch

Once upon a time, two years ago, Steve and I were on the lookout for a couch. I’d just moved from Sydney back to our flat in Melbourne, our former housemate Nic had moved out with his couch, Steve and I were about to get married, and there was a big space in our living room needing a cosy piece of furniture on which to snuggle up and watch telly or read a book. If it could double as a...