Campfire story

cropped-20180401_150935-2.jpgOMG I am in Paris

I have just woken up and automatically reach for my phone. I search in the dark, something falls to the ground and fills the room with its annoyance at being disturbed. No phone.  My brain catches up, this isn’t your bedroom, you are in Paris, it reminds me with a sigh, I told you last night. 


OMG I am in Paris, yes I remember looking up and seeing wrought iron balconies bursting with flowers as I left the Metro.

I remember, get out of bed and stumble around the room, banging my legs, tripping, arms outstretched. I do not know this space so slow down and feel for the walls. I now know where my phone is, I remember telling my husband to plug it in, to recharge.  It is by the coffee machine, I watched him do it before I fell back to a jet-lagged sleep on a turquoise bedspread. My stomach full of red wine, pasta, truffle, pizza, meringue cheese, cream, sponge, cocktails, I had been greedy, I am in Paris and could not decide on just one thing. Continue reading “Campfire story”

Campfire Stories


Just Another Head Magnet Day – in my native tongue

NOGGIN – nutconk – melon – noodle – block –loaf of bread – uncle Ned – LUMP OF LEAD

I would say I have an average sized head,  so I am not sure why things keep hitting it.

East London, I went out to admire a full moon from my parents suburban garden. A bat flew into my Loaf.  We were both a little stunned.  I had never, ever seen a bat in the London skies before.

Walking my kids to school in Essex, I turned the corner and foam, from the top of a window cleaners soapy bucket, caught the breeze and gave me a bubble afro. The guy nearly fell off the ladder laughing.  He could have hit his Noodle.

“That was Donkeys Years ago.”

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Campfire Stories


cropped-frizz-4.jpgAfter the rain

I stood and looked out. The air was thick and heavy and made my hair curl and frizz about my head.

It has been ridiculously hot and humid lately, a month of record temperatures was broken with a big dump of rain recently. The sudden and violent downpour caught suburbia by surprise, it’s hot, bothered and sleep deprived citizens flooded and swore.


Mother nature was not surprised, she had been watching and waiting, when the rain came her people were ready.  Relieved and thirsty they embraced the rain or burst through the dusty brown earth showing themselves to drink greedily.  All life here was changed temporarily by the rain. Continue reading “Campfire Stories”

Campfire Stories


A Fight To The Death for my Bagel

My husband and I were lucky enough to be invited by one of my favorite humans  to share a few days at the top of this beautiful island.  It is at least a four and a half hour drive from where I live, and so to my shame, the last time I visited it must have been at least four years ago.  The thought of the journey is worse than the actual miles and the reward worth the dust on the car, so no excuse.

I found myself grateful, relaxed and alone embraced by a stunning start to the day on the beautiful Karikari peninsula wondering why it has been so long.  I popped the kettle on and pushed a fat bagel into the thin space of the toaster and prayed I would not burn the batch down before I opened the ranch sliders and breathed in the heavy salt-laden air. I had intended to set up a folding chair but the view had held on, I heard the bagel pop up and gave silent thanks for the toasters resolve.


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The Advice Safe


A walk with a snake beneath my feet

There is a beautiful path I take regularly, it carries me past a tall tree, whose trunk has split in the growing.  It flicks out of the earth like the tongue of a giant serpent, tines spread wide, to collect the chemicals of my existence. Sometimes I daydream that the mighty head with rise out of the ground and the creature lurking below will paralyse me with fear and eat my dog.  I walk a little quicker on these broody dark days. Sometimes I just think about what to cook for dinner and hardly notice the trunk, when the sun shines bright, my crowded mind is filled with marshmallows and gravy.

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Today I am standing under the tree looking up. It is the end of a bright blue sky day and I have just watched two Rosellas scramble up from the grass path before me.  They chatter now, among the leaves, avoiding my gaze, waiting for me to go. My dog is busy with a smaller one of his kind further back along the path,  I have time.  The pair are annoyed with me, they want to eat the grass seed, I want to see their bright feathers, the dog is still sniffing, there is a standoff.  I can not see the birds among the cones and glare of the sun. Continue reading “The Advice Safe”

The Advice Safe

crowdedmind.coOne day you might have children of your own

I fear this part, the letting go.  I know my children are good, I know they understand right from wrong, I know they want to do their best, I know it is time to let go.  I just hate the thought of it.

I have spent my time as a parent preparing my children for an independent life.  I have taught skills, spoken of life with all its complications.  I have explained the good and the bad.  They understand life is a hot soup, to be tasted with caution,  enjoyed to the last scrape.

I am not sure what it is I fear, broken heart, broken limbs, broken mind.  These things can be mended.

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Campfire Story


I am a Nightwalker

I woke up early this morning, was it my husband’s, or did the snore belong to me? I was uncertain.  Was my daughter in her bed? I had not heard her come home.  Was my son doing OK? I was unsure, he was hours away, road racing. I could only be certain of one thing, it would be between 3:50 and 4:10 am, as I am a Nightwalker, and it is my time to rise. I groped around in the dark for my watch, 4:03 am.

Sometimes I try to deny my fate, close my eyes and will myself back to sleep.

Sometimes I get up straight away, resigned to my fate, plod down the hall to find a cosy spot.  The quiet cold air and change of scene sometimes soothes me back to sleep.

Sometimes I lie awake and stare into the blackness and imagine.

Sometimes I flip back the cover of my laptop and write.

Always I wake. Always I leave my bed.  I am a Nightwalker.


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Campfire Story


Just a moment to myself

Summer is coming. I’ve just finished cleaning the toilets, the windows are all open and I have sat down for a minute. I keep catching a breeze on the back of my neck,  it feels like someone is trying to get my attention.  My boney cat is coming up to join me up on the sofa.  I watch her, like a climber in a crevasse, she front points with her claws between the seat squab and the pouffe. She can no longer jump.  Our clocks are about to spring forward and we have been hit with a weird weather burp from Australia.  The forecasters have promised 30°.  I have put about six loads of washing on in preparation, middle age thinking.

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Advice Safe


Some words from the old girl in the boat up ahead

My husband is on the waiting list because death is not imminent and our medical insurance does not cover what ails him.  I have just been to the doctors and paid $55 to be told the mole that has appeared on the back of my thigh is not going to end my life but marks the end of my youth.  A full stop.  Apparently, at my age these things start to appear, I do not have to worry about death, just the slow decline.   Potentially this is depressing news.

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