This week; take it or leave it.

I’ve been wracking my brains as to what to write about this week. The Old Boy’s out hunting bargains at garage sales; his favourite thing to do on a Saturday morning. The Wonder Dog is curled up nearby, on top of the recliner, having a snooze: one of his favourite things to do every morning. I’ve had breakfast, the second cup of coffee is on the desk, and I’m poised; ready to dispense witty observations, philosophical meanderings and brilliant insights. The result so far? Nada. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Zero. Here’s a little observation I will freely share with the world: tendinitis is the pits, baby! It blinking well hurts. It’s been one of those sad, grey weeks. The Colorado theatre shooting thing was just appalling. The young...

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Flawed perfection

I tootled off to the doc, yesterday, to get an anti-pneumonia jab. While I was there I happened to mention the arthritis in my wrist was giving me gip (actually, it’s driving me bonkers!) and asked if he had any suggestions. The usual stuff wasn’t helping much. He did a bit of “hmmm”; told me to move it this way and that; heard me moan; pushed my thumb; heard me yelp, and then said, “That’s tendinitis.” Blinking heck. I’ll just add it to the list, shall I? I feel as though my warranty’s run out and now, slowly but surely, all my bits and pieces are breaking down, rusting out, falling off or going “bzzz pfffft” and emitting puffs of smoke. We used to own an upright freezer. The day after the...

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I’m book ends

I’ve been asked to speak at our public library in August, as part of their “meet the author” series. Of course my first question was: Why me? I’m not an author. I’m grateful to the librarian who invited me to speak in the Reading Room, Gawler Library, August 25, 11am – noon (see you there). She said: But, you’re very involved in writing. You review for Good Reading. You edit authors’ manuscripts. You have inside knowledge. And, you know what? She’s right. I do know stuff. After all, even though I’m not yet an author, I am a writer, reviewer and editor. I’m the literary equivalent of book ends. I edit (the beginning) and I review (the end product). The only thing missing is the middle bit: the book!...

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Am I a racist?

I was channel-surfing the TV the other night and came across a show by two young Australian men of non-European heritage, who were sharing insights on Australia from a “brown person’s” perspective. (I’m quoting them, so don’t judge me.) They weren’t the greatest comedians that I’ve heard – the second one, in particular, didn’t always get the timing right – but they were pretty good. They seemed to be funny, charming and clever. They were particularly witty when they had a go at the foibles of Australian culture and, in particular, racism.  I laughed, or at least smiled, a lot. I think humour is an excellent way to educate people about racism, which is the product of a narrow, uneducated mind that is...

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