Spring 2025: 10 Good Things

Hobart in spring. A person with an umbrella walks under pink blossom covered treesBack in August, I wrote a post setting out my plan for how to use this blog over the next year or two. In the absence of other things to write about, I’ll aim for a seasonal post celebrating ten good things that have happened in our lives.

Spring has been very busy for all of us, with some lows as well as some highs – but the point of this series is to focus on the highs, so let’s do that.

1. Visitors from Scotland: in September my dad and stepmum made the long, long journey over from Scotland to visit us. They’d visited once before just after we moved, and honestly, I wasn’t expecting a repeat trip knowing how big the undertaking is. So it was a lovely surprise when they said they were coming again!

Determined to make the most of it, we packed more into 18 days than we’d usually do in a year – meals out, walks, museums, vineyards, beaches, wildlife, and of course every kind of weather – often in the space of a few hours. Continue reading

Winter 2025: 10 Joyful Things

This poor old blog.

When I first started writing DorkyMum back in 2011, I posted on it three or four times a week. Then, as life became busier, that became three or four times a month, Now, a decade and a half on, it’s lucky if it sees some action three times a year.

Blogging in the early days had a real sense of community. There are children all over the UK who I feel like I know, even though I’ve never met them. Us ‘mum bloggers’ commented regularly on each other’s posts. We subscribed, we shared, we compiled blog rolls and linkys, and then once or twice a year we gathered for champagne and selfies at conferences and award ceremonies.

There is very little of that left now. A few people have hung on and worked hard on their post-parenting niche – vegan recipes, kids counselling and life coaching, photography, arts and crafts – but most folk have abandoned their blogs entirely. There are certainly not many of us still sharing the mundane, everyday stories of our lives.

For me – as for all of those other bloggers – there are good reasons for that. Many of us wrote as a creative outlet when our kids were very young. We churned out 800 words in nap time, or wrote on our phones in the café at soft play. Now we now have full or part-time jobs, less time to spare, and kids who are teens not toddlers. Quite understandably, not many of those teens are comfortable with every detail of their lives being shared.

There’s also the fact that social media has nibbled away at many of the things I used to post here. Before it became ‘Stories from an Island Home’ my tagline used to be ‘parenting, politics, photography… and anything else that takes my fancy’.

These days, most of my parenting and family news goes on Facebook, my photos go on Instagram, and my political grumbles go on Bluesky (or across the dinner table at DorkyDad). That doesn’t leave much for the blog, which is why over the last few years it has mainly been about holidays and medical emergencies.

Like my paper desk diary, my handwritten to-do lists, and my clunky old iPhone that still has a home button, I’m not yet willing to give it up. Having an online space that is only mine – with no deadlines or word counts, is a precious thing.

But I would like to make better use of it, and I’ve been thinking about how to do that. Continue reading

Dear Senator Wong: a letter to Australia’s Foreign Minister

Dear Senator Wong,

Today, Australia joined 27 other nations in condemning Israel for the “indefensible” civilian death toll in Gaza. I welcome this statement. But I also need to tell you: we are well past the point where words are enough. It is time for action.

I’m writing because I no longer feel able to call your office. For nearly two years, I have tried – daily, then weekly, then monthly. I’ve spoken to staffers, urged change, and asked that your government do more for the Palestinian people. But those conversations became too painful, too disconnected from the urgency and devastation I was witnessing. And honestly, I no longer believe that you, your office, or the other members of the Australian Government fully understand the depth of grief and outrage that so many ordinary Australians are carrying with us every single day.

We are so very ordinary. We are writers, teachers, doctors, engineers, parents, artists, students and lawyers. We are decent people who believe in justice, international law, and the equal value of every human life. For the past two years, we have watched as Gaza has been systematically destroyed. More than 37,000 people, many of them children, have been killed. Tens, if not hundreds of thousands more are missing: buried under rubble or simply vaporised by the appalling bombs dropped on them. Hospitals have been targeted. Refugees displaced again and again. Journalists, doctors and aid workers killed. Civilians starved. Entire families lost. Continue reading

Three nights in Newcastle, New South Wales

Newcastle New South Wales as seen from Nobby's Lighthouse.

Some Australian cities – Hobart, Melbourne, Adelaide – make it so easy to fall in love with them. Others… well, others make you work a little harder to uncover their charms.

Until recently, all I really knew of Newcastle, a coastal city in New South Wales around 150 kilometres north of Sydney, was that it holds the title of Australia’s biggest coal port. I’d seen the footage of courageous climate protestors in kayaks, blockading the harbour and preventing the movements of the 250-metre-long bulk carriers that head out into the Tasman Sea, carrying coal to China, Japan, and elsewhere in Australia.

We have started a lovely tradition in our family of taking it in turns to spend a weekend of the school holidays in a new city with DorkySon. He and DorkyDad went to Canberra; he and I went to Adelaide; and then he and DorkyDad went to Melbourne. Last weekend, he and I went to Newcastle. Or Newy, as I now know the locals refer to it.

I had wondered how prominent the heavy industries would be. The road in to Newcastle from the airport on Friday afternoon provided a quick and easy answer – very. We passed huge bulk carriers, coal conveyor belts and storage silos, production facilities for explosives and plastics and fertilisers. As our cab made its way along Hunter Street to our hotel in the East End, passing what felt like literally hundreds of shuttered shopfronts and empty buildings, DorkySon and I exchanged glances. What had we let ourselves in for?

Continue reading

Three nights in Melbourne

Street art that depicts the Aboriginal flag with a man and a bird

Many years ago, long before I could have even pointed out lutruwita/Tasmania on a world map, my friend A moved from the UK to Australia.

I thought she was extremely brave, making a life for herself on the other side of the world, and I was very proud – if a bit sad that our close friendship would be reduced to an occasional, often glitchy Skype call.

(This was long before the days when we all became Zoom experts!)

More than a decade on, A remains in Melbourne, and I’ve ended up in Hobart, so we are now just an hour’s easy flight from each other. The responsibilities of work and family mean that we don’t live in each other’s pockets… but every couple of years one or the other of us makes the trip.

This year, it was my turn!

Continue reading