Damn. It finally got me.

It seems like covid is finally catching up to us all. 

Even those of us who have exercised caution – triple or quadruple vaxxed, continuing to mask as mandates fall by the wayside, avoiding large crowds and enclosed spaces as much as possible. The virus is now so prevalent, here in Tasmania at least, that it’s becoming harder and harder to avoid. 

The UK and US seem to be in a similar position. Our close friends and family members are sharing news of positive results almost daily. Continue reading

The return of joy

Autumn leaves on the ground taken from above. A dog on a load and a pair of Ugg Boots are also visible in the shot.

Yesterday marked six weeks since DorkyDog’s surgery. I’m writing this blog post on my phone, sitting beside her out on our front porch and enjoying the sunshine – although this is the first official week of Tassie winter and it’s only 6 degrees. I’m actually sitting down on the ground, sharing DorkyDog’s mattress and blankets, because it’s warmer down here than it is perched on the wooden bench above. 

The last week has felt like a turning point in her post-surgery recovery – and by association it has felt like a turning point for everything else too.

I can’t pinpoint an exact moment or one particular reason for the change – it has been a gradual improvement – but so much of the tension has eased. The routine is more settled. Everyone is happier. The atmosphere is calm.  Continue reading

This is not a birthday blog post

A boy walking on the trail in Tasmania's southwest wilderness

DorkySon turns thirteen later this month (THIRTEEN!!).

If you’ve read this blog for a while, you’ll know that I usually write a birthday post reflecting on the previous year. In fact, this year’s birthday blog would have been the tenth one… but reasonably enough DorkySon is not as keen for me to spend 1000 words going into raptures over how great he is these days. You never know who might be reading.

So this is not a birthday blog. 

Instead it’s just a reflection on our summer, and an update for far-flung family and friends on how life is going in Tasmania. If I occasionally, accidentally, veer off into saying nice things about DorkySon please just ignore that and move quickly onto the next paragraph. Continue reading

Moving on up

Image shows a child's hand holding a pen. On a piece of paper is written 'Tom's book Chapter 1 adventures'

I have to be honest… when DorkySon left his infant school at the end of Grade 2, I thought I would never love a school as much as I did that one.

It had been such a perfect fit. The nurturing little community by the sea that helped us settle into Hobart; the place where we made our first friends; the school where a succession of kind, caring and thoughtful teachers supported DorkySon from the age of four through to eight.

It was the school where we watched him learn to read, to write, to make marvellously messy artworks that he would come running up to show us at the end of the day. It was everything you would hope for in a school and so, so much more.

But I have had to eat my words, because it turned out that his next school – the primary he has attended from Grades 3 to 6, ages 8 to 12 – has been every bit as good. Continue reading

Spring 2021

Last Saturday was DorkyDad’s birthday and it began, as all the best birthdays do, with the dog jumping up onto our bed and vomiting all over it.

We hurried her back downstairs into her crate to let DorkyDad enjoy half an hour’s peace and quiet – drinking coffee and opening his presents, which included a watercolour painting of a ukulele from DorkySon, a voucher for a stargazing event on kunanyi from me, and a personalised video message from Phillies player Jimmy Rollins. Not often I’ve seen DorkyDad speechless, but it’s nice to know we can still surprise him.

Continue reading