By Lella Cariddi. Ivanhoe, VIC 25 April 2023 A splendid autumn morning. The weather forecaster announces that today the temperature will reach 25 degrees. My friend Jill and I are invited to a long lunch at the home of mutual friends, Julie and Con. Jill offers to pick me up by 10am. So much to… Continue reading Happy First Mother’s Day to Olivia, My Granddaughter
Collective Works
The Holiday
By Sue Scott. Aberfoyle Park, SA The sound of the back door being closed with a bang was the beginning of an exciting new world for our family. Dad announced, “The holiday starts now”. On that day in 1960, I had no idea what lay before us. In preparation for our adventure, we were all… Continue reading The Holiday
One Sacred Day
By Margaret McCaffrey. Melbourne, VIC Thirty-four years after my father’s death, I drove one frosty morning in 2010 to Melbourne’s Shrine of Remembrance. It’s a pyramid-shaped building keeping guard, sphinx-like, over the city. There, I joined the shivering, silent crowd huddled around the eternal flame for the pre-dawn service, as the bugle strains of The… Continue reading One Sacred Day
ANZAC Day Reflections
By Nancy Sortini. Adelaide, SA I was taught from when I was a young girl to observe ANZAC Day. I was the youngest of three girls. On the 25th of April, we would go to the local railway station, as we lived in the Adelaide Hills, and head for town. Once there, we would settle… Continue reading ANZAC Day Reflections
The Shepherd
By Terence Dingwall. Doonside, NSW My flock bleats gently in the night, my village steeped in slothful slumber. The stars above gleam faint and bright, do I hear the far off peal of thunder? I hope this means a chance of rain, as I hear distant whip-like cracks. Does the dry earth split and cry… Continue reading The Shepherd
ANZAC
By Lesley-Anne Willott. Christie Downs, SA As blood red poppies dance in the wind, we promise to remember the boldOn that one fateful dawn back in 1915, where so many would never grow oldLife is so dear, but the worthy, must have courage to answer the callWith mettle and grit, it’s what Aussie blokes did,… Continue reading ANZAC
Scarabs
By Terence Dingwall. Doonside, NSW In every battle that was ever foughtOne side’s hopes have come to noughtThe fields are strewn with those who diedFor death has scattered them far and wideFor a few more hours peace has comeWith the long slow sink of setting sunPeace has come to Friedrich and FredIs this piece Friedrich’s,… Continue reading Scarabs
a soldier’s prayer
By Steve Allen. Aldinga, SA Where I lay, my body stuckon this sodden ground,only my spirit can now move.My first battle was my last.I hardly drew a warrior's breaththrough youthful lungs.The fierce roars of passionate mennow lay in utter silence.I hear them not.Wind picks up my soft hairas if I still had life.I am thankful… Continue reading a soldier’s prayer
The Photograph
By Alice Richardson. Elizabeth, SA Rose sat at the kitchen table cradling the little frame holding the photograph of her with her husband, George. On the back, written in his handwriting was, ‘Rose and me. Married 17th October 1940’. It was taken in front of the hedge in their backyard just after he joined up… Continue reading The Photograph
ANZAC Day Reflections
By Marion Pathey-Johns. Perth, WA Hundreds of young men from Australia and New Zealand died needlessly and painfully because Britain (Winston Churchill) directed them to land on the WRONG BEACH.
YOU’LL NEVER SEE THE WHITES OF THEIR EYES
By Brian John Pollock, Brighton, VIC In 1966 I was called up for a two year stint of National Service in the Australian Army. After six months basic training I was posted to C Squadron, 1st Armoured Regiment. I spent the next 18 months as a crew member of a Centurion tank. I served in… Continue reading YOU’LL NEVER SEE THE WHITES OF THEIR EYES
Dancing
By Andy, 66. Byron Bay, NSW After my sister laughed and made a spectacle of my dancing as a 10 year old I swore to never dance again. The shame and embarrassment went to every cell ... Even while taking my young teen children to the Red Hot Chili Peppers and the Chemical Brothers, my… Continue reading Dancing
Four Suitcases
By Lesley-Anne, 68. Christie Downs, SA June 1970 I was 15 years old, and my family was about to leave life as we knew it far behind. My parents had sold the family home and given away most of the furniture. A few precious items that were too fragile to make the journey were gifted… Continue reading Four Suitcases
Eternity and Neurodiversity
By Mo Ors, 76. Gold Coast, QLD Recently, when asked to think of just one word that represents a childhood memory of something I loved to do, the first thing that popped up was “dance”. This started an uncontrollable rush of many memories that must have been buried deep inside my mind ... in that… Continue reading Eternity and Neurodiversity
Ode to Wooden Boats
By Brian John Pollock, 77. Brighton, VIC For some people it might be fishingOr visiting places remote,But for me the ultimate pastimeIs building a wooden boat.It started in my childhoodBuilding boats out of scraps of wood,My father would take me to the beach to float themKnowing full well they never would. But that was never… Continue reading Ode to Wooden Boats
My Wardrobe
By Beverley Walsh, 74. Balwyn North, VIC I open the door of the wardrobe where I keep the clothes I no longer wear but can’t bear to be separated from. I wonder why this is so. Why do I cling to them? I separate the coat hangers to see more clearly each individual garment. Here… Continue reading My Wardrobe
Patio Contemplation
By Brian John Pollock, 77. Brighton VIC “Out on the patio, we’d sit”Is an iconic Australian song line,A lyric conjuring powerful imageryFor Australians, so sublime. A simple pleasure for manyTo sit alone contemplating life,Out on the patio, glass in handTemporary respite from trouble and strife. For me serious contemplationIs best done outdoors, Perhaps it’s because it… Continue reading Patio Contemplation
Merry Christmas, Summer Christmas
By Lindsey-Jane, 70. Adelaide, SA Christmas for most people in Adelaide begins with our famous Christmas pageant, which is one of the best of its kind in the world and the biggest in the Southern Hemisphere. It's been a huge hit for the Adelaide population since 1933, so they've had lots of practice at making… Continue reading Merry Christmas, Summer Christmas
Ode to Bondi Beach
By Brian John Pollock, 77. Brighton VIC I’m a twenty-something male, hale and heartyAnd like most people my age enjoy a party.I live in the greater Sydney LGAAnd go to Bondi beach nearly every day. I go to work and pay my taxesI’m not one of your anti-vaxers.I’m waiting ‘til the jab queues start to… Continue reading Ode to Bondi Beach
The Christmas Pudding
By Peter, 70. South Fremantle, WA For my mother, and Norman Lindsay, who first alerted me to the magic, and mischief, of puddings. There’s just a month to go. So Mum’s preparing shopping lists: flour, suet, sugar, raisins, ginger, lemons, cherries, mixed fruits, treacle or golden syrup. Watching out for bargains at the co-op. Sticking… Continue reading The Christmas Pudding
Gardens of My Soul
By Mo Ors, 76. Gold Coast, QLD Never a gardener or a green thumb, I find that plants have always been a big part of my life. At school, one of my favourite subjects — part of sciences — was botany. I loved drawing the intricate parts of a leaf or a flower with a… Continue reading Gardens of My Soul
Don’t Let Them In!
By Gillian Scott, 61. Melbourne, VIC I saw a quote the other day attributed to Clint Eastwood, and I don’t know if really he said it or not, but it seemed like a sound philosophy. When questioned about what he was doing in the following weeks, 91-year-old Clint responded that he was directing his… Continue reading Don’t Let Them In!
Shekels Enough
By Sally Ryhanen, 73. Caloundra, QLD I am a refugee from the corporate world with a disability — a 70-year-old Protestant work ethic — that has been sharpened, honed and weaponised for self-harm. I spawned a child with the same fierce ethic and christened him Obligation. A very nasty child, with an ugliness surpassed only… Continue reading Shekels Enough
Friends
By Sally, 64. Wynn Vale, SA When I was about forty years of age, I met a woman named Barbara. She was about twenty years older than me — so, was about sixty when we met. We remained friends for many years. I was a person who made the occasional friend. I didn’t make immediate… Continue reading Friends
Geranium Decor
By Leonie, 78. Port Fairy, VIC A small geranium pokes its pink face through a hole in the fenceSiblings spread out in a riot of colours behind.Bright leggy blooms in patches so denseNeglected, half spent in the westerly windCrowding the path to a once fine weatherboard houseWith splayed grey boards like hag’s teeth creaking in… Continue reading Geranium Decor