A few weeks ago I read Mothers Grimm, a collection of contemporary fairy tales about motherhood written by a wonderful Australian writer called Danielle Wood. There is a line in one of the stories which has stuck with me. A woman has recently given birth and is lying in hospital with her new baby alongside her.
“This night was the beginning of her new way of listening.”
It’s so true, isn’t it? Continue reading
Shhh.
Do you hear that?
No, neither do I. After almost two months of summer holiday, DorkySon is back at school and I am sitting at my desk in absolute silence. Several hours have gone by and there have been no requests for a glass of juice, or for a book to be read, or for another DVD.
It is very quiet. Nice, but quiet. Continue reading
Merry Christmas! I hope you had a wonderful day, and are feeling as full as you should be of cheese, roasted parsnips, tangerines, turkey or whatever the tradition is in your house.
You can see from the photo above that our current traditions are chunky socks, handwritten letters to Santa, ugly but loved tree decorations, stockings, apples and cherries… Oh and crackers, which are sold here as ‘bon bons;’ but will always be crackers to me.
We started with Eggs Benedict, and I surprised myself with some pretty good hollandaise sauce and perfectly poached eggs. (Actually no, we started at 6am with stockings in bed, but I hadn’t had my coffee at that stage, so…) We had roast pork and potatoes, fresh peas and plenty of champagne. This year it was just the three of us, and it was the calmest Christmas Day I can ever remember. Neither DorkySon nor I got out of our pyjamas all day. Continue reading
It is December tomorrow, and while I’m excited because that marks the first official day of summer here, DorkySon is excited because it means he gets to open the first door on his advent calendar. I don’t think Christmas in summer will ever stop being weird.
There are just three weeks of the school term left, and they are packed to bursting with activities. DorkySon has a kindergarten trip to a marine centre, an all-school trip to a big outdoor playground, a family picnic day, a visit to a local old folks home to share some festive cheer, and a final school assembly with a Christmas performance from all the pupils.
When the new term starts in February, my boy will be moving up a grade – from three days a week of kindergarten to five days of prep. He is so excited at the prospect, but we are already anticipating a tired and quite crotchety first few weeks as he adjusts. Continue reading
My Grandpa died almost twenty years ago. I remember the date because it was the day after my 12th birthday. Most of my primary school classmates were away on a residential trip, but I’d chosen not to go (an introvert even then) and so there were just a few of us left.
Later that week the headteacher – the perfectly named Mrs Spankie – came into the classroom, placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, and told me I’d won a national competition for my project on Robert Burns.
I have never liked Robert Burns. Continue reading
Dorkymum | Stories from Tasmania 