By Nancy, 80. Adelaide, SA I have always had a rather unhealthy dislike of dogs. I was a cat lover. Dogs I feared and loathed. I found them dirty, smelly, and prone to nip one's ankle. I never understood dog owners' obsessions with their animals. I viewed most dog people as not quite normal when… Continue reading Smudge
Month: April 2022
Growing Up In Wittenoom
By Mary, 71. Bunbury, WA Editor's note: Below are portions from a longer piece written by Mary, whose drawings and stories detail her family's life in Australia after they emigrated in 1950 to start anew in a free country with job prospects. In 1950, Irene (my mother) was pregnant with me (her second child), and… Continue reading Growing Up In Wittenoom
Romeo — Where Art Thou?
By Sue, 68. Aberfoyle Park, SA “This is delicious,” Marge mumbled between mouthfuls of double chocolate muffin. Every Tuesday after she and her friend Fay had finished their hour-long exercise class, they treated themselves to a coffee and muffin of the week from the cafe's specials board. “So convenient,” said Fay, “that the retirement village… Continue reading Romeo — Where Art Thou?
Coming to Australia
By Lucie Kolmer, 1916 — 2010. Adelaide, SA. Rest in peace. In April 1934, my parents, my young brother, and I left Germany on the liner Koblenz and sailed for China. I celebrated my 18th birthday onboard the ship. My brother died of kidney failure in Shanghai where we initially lived. We left Shanghai in… Continue reading Coming to Australia
Mascot Memoir ~ Part Two
By Wendy, 71. Landsdale, WA Next door to our house was a grocer’s shop which looked like a D’Arcy Doyle painting. It had big sacks full of rice, cereals, beans and dried fruits. The grocer scooped up the rice and weighed it on the scales, the rice on one side and weights on the other… Continue reading Mascot Memoir ~ Part Two
By Andy, 65. Byron Bay, NSW Woke this morning kinda listless …A rainy day again (as is the cycle at present). Brewed an espresso and sat in the feelings rather than attempt to shake them off. My mind was like a book left carelessly out in the breeze. Pages flitting, randomly stopping occasionally with the… Continue reading Morning Musings
By Lesley-Anne, 67. Christie Downs, SA It was the winter of 1963. The snow and the fog were like nothing I had ever seen. When I say fog, I mean the dense, impenetrable type where you can't see more than a few inches in front of you. There was nothing wispy or ethereal about this… Continue reading Fog Bound