Tuesday, 26 July 2016

Fiz: Tools of the trade

It has been a bit pressured: a difficult editing job to do in limited time, a new iphone, and a switch from a Microsoft to an Apple computer.

Wednesday, 20 July 2016

Naz: two weeks



I love having my family around. 
They are in Australia for two weeks.  Mostly at mine with me but also sprinkled with a night here and there with family and friends on the coast and in Brisbane.  We have dined, done coffee, shopped, picnicked, visited the beach and just hung out on the lounge and watched TV.  I have enjoyed every moment but most of all I have cherished just chatting over that first cup of tea in the morning—bleary eyed, tousled bed hair, snug in our warm pjs, creased and comfortable, just us, no frills—making plans for the day.  Love, love, love.

Friday, 8 July 2016

Naz: I need to stretch

Me and Sheryl nearing the finish line
Hi peeps.  I know it’s been a while.  I could offer a mile of excuses but the truth is I have been procrastinating—big time.  I intended to share my plans for my sixtieth birthday weeks ago but put off writing, again and again.   It’s not that I haven’t given it a thought, it’s more that I have been too scared to openly commit to something which is such a stretch for me, that I could easily fail.  And the chance of failing is something that doesn’t excite me, it instead confiscates any motivation for me to push on.

Anyways, after the meditation session last night

Friday, 1 July 2016

Fiz: Winter tales

Aunty Rose even looked like a spinster: plain and sensible—in a wholemeal, hand-knitted way. But what a magical person she was in my young life, appearing like a fairy godmother at critical times to enable the high points to be truly enjoyed. The primary school fancydress ball would be days away, and in our bustling household of four kids, it would seem unlikely that my mother would have time to get my costume organised. Mum had a zest for living: she was engaged and hospitable but sometimes this meant that she was stretched. And then Aunty Rose would arrive—quiet, unobtrusive, and a dab hand at crafting costumes—and all would be well.