This is the last you’ll hear from me on the topic of #covid19. Yay, I hear some say…

I just want, need to expand on a comment I wrote earlier today on Facebook… then I’m done. “It’s at the point where subtlety and politeness are redundant. From a few conversations I’ve had and things I’ve seen with my own eyes, there are some people who will not accept the message. Causing me more … More This is the last you’ll hear from me on the topic of #covid19. Yay, I hear some say…

I asked my neighbour about its life . . .

Another ‘branching out’ story inspired by comments to my Out on a Limb post, our city apartment’s leafy neighbours and the article Erskineville’s newest housing project. Dedicated to the G.O. for whom the big eucalypt tree neighbouring our balcony is a balm to city life. “I’m a relative newcomer to what they call this now… the … More I asked my neighbour about its life . . .

carved in stone

Each workday from my desk (courtesy of a recent fortuitous reshuffle) I now gaze at a reminder of the way my and the G.O.’s  ancestors arrived in this country. By ship. Through Sydney Heads. For me it’s a reminder of how fortunate he and I are that they did.

whatshername…

When the G.O. and I eloped last year, once we’d weathered the gamut of welcome congratulations and not-so-welcome “unflattering amazement” as Kate so aptly described it, the next assumption we dealt with, after reassuring my new mother-in-law the absence of a big to-do wedding wasn’t because I was pregnant, and I wasn’t planning on -at 48 and childless- becoming pregnant… was about … More whatshername…

no hard feelings . . .

I’m not one to hold a grudge… fortunately, in regard to chickens. Despite an indelible experience I had as a kid with a rooster I still admire their kind. And care about what manner of lives they have before they grace my table.

biggered

Until a few years ago my food belief systems were stuck in the late 1960’s, where as a pre-schooler I shopped at the small country grocery store with my mother. There were only a few varieties of breakfast cereal. My grandparents provided us with milk and eggs. Fresh bread was delivered via a horse and cart. The modest amounts … More biggered

olives ain’t olives

I didn’t get caught up the recent Australian food debacles: recall of Creative Gourmet and Nanna’s frozen berries from China putting consumers at risk of contracting Hepatitis A; nor the John Bull tinned tuna imported from Thailand linked with suspected Scromboid poisoning.

She’ll be apples, mate – Right?

As is my habit during the course of a Saturday morning I did our weekly food shop at the local Eveleigh Farmers’ Market. When I returned home I made a cup of tea, and settled in with the lunch I bought: gluten-free mushroom, kale and leek tart made from, the friendly stall-holder informed me, market ingredients. At the computer I arbitrarily clicked … More She’ll be apples, mate – Right?

us and them

  Local Inner West resident and artist Thomas Jackson painted the George Street wall of Hive Bar in Erskineville, a comment to the recent Western Australian government’s shark cull that began on January 26. It was so much easier to blame it on Them. It was bleakly depressing to think that They were Us. If it was Them, then nothing … More us and them