Found: Dorothy Porter on Keira’s desk. Past reading company: Helen Garner, Overland (Riley)
I first saw the link to this video over at Facebook the other day, and since then I’ve seen it popping up on various blogs. I’m not surprised. I think it’s amazing. Maybe you will too.
(Feed readers may need to click through to see the video) Sure, its been around for a long time, but what can I say? The classics never age. And it really did win a Hugo – I only found that out this week.
fashion faux-pas for dad Your socks are pulled high (mid-calf) It’s hard to distinguish between the gradients of white; where cotton ends and skin begins Varicoid veins are gathered behind your knee like posies of blue flowers You turn, sit, open the broadsheet pages crossing your legs, make a table for your newspaper snort phlegm…
That’s right – the 2011 blogging brainstorm/meetup/idea swap/discussion is tomorrow! If you’d still like to come, you’re welcome! Drop me a line at contact@miscpress.com.au and I can give you the address details. If you’ve already said you’re coming and I haven’t given you further details please let me know. Signing off for the day – been…
Brief Notes: I’ll admit I’ve never been a big Burt Lancaster fan, but From Here to Eternity made me see how I could be converted. I’ll also admit that when it finished I sat there and thought, “Is it just me? I wonder if anyone else was disappointed?” although, upon reflection, I realised it was…
These flowers, whatever their Latin name, grow on the boundary of Keira’s school. They’re honey flowers, she told me one day. You suck the sweetness out. Everyone does it. She anticipated my objection It’s not dangerous, try it. So I did, one fine day in the holidays when we were visiting the playground I turned…
About two months ago I found myself in a sound-proof chamber, the size of which would’ve given Houdini a challenge to escape; though I suppose it was an improvement to the one I was in previously with prison cell dimensions. In this newer chamber I could rub my cheeks against the bumpy egg carton-like padding in…
I really should change that title to say, ‘Writing her first short story for a competition’. Keira has been coming home for a while now with ‘learning stories’ written in class, which have basically been re-counts of what they’ve done on certain special curriculum days. I thought this was her first attempt, but I could be…
He might be bored and want to be elsewhere, as we wait for the kids to finish playing at the park, but at least his doodles in the tan bark remain happy.
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