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.

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Summer/We Did It

A man standing overlooking the Neck at Bruny Island

We are nearing the end of January, well past the midpoint of summer. It has been a subdued one, really. Cool and damp and much quieter than usual. There have been a couple of days when the temperature has tipped into the thirties; on those afternoons we have sat out in the Adirondack chairs, letting the warmth penetrate deep into our bones. But not once have we hit the switch that turns winter’s heat pump into summer’s aircon. Nor have we removed the woollen blanket from our bed, or had a day when we have braved the water at Long Beach. Continue reading

On

Alright. There is frailness

in all our music.

Sometimes we’re broken

and it’s lost.

Sometimes we forget

for years it’s even in us, heads

filled with burdens and smoke.

And sometimes we’ve held

to it and it’s there,

waiting to break out,

walking back from the end.

 

“In Memory of George Lewis” – Lou Lipsitz

 

*

We were living our best lives, and we knew it.

We have always communicated well, DorkyMum and me. There was so much talk between us in the earliest days and nights, sounding out every reason our relationship couldn’t possibly last and, then, deciding that nothing else we could ever imagine mattered as much as the two of us and how we felt next to each other.

All in.

It has not always been easy. Real life never is. But now we found ourselves living on a windswept island far away at the edge of the world, a place almost too beautiful for words. Our son was continuing to astound us with his inherent kindness, his infectious laugh, his keenness for learning, words and books.

All the food we ate and the wine we drank was produced locally. We were living in a tall, rambling house with room for everything. Our closest friends from Scotland – and DorkySon’s Godfather – had miraculously moved to the same island and now lived just a half day’s drive to the north. We were both working from home, setting our own hours and making enough money to keep it all sweet.

This is our life, we said to each other. This is who we are and what we will be.

We were deeply, deeply happy. Continue reading

31 Days of Gratitude

Flatlay image of daily gratitude journal

I think we’ve all had to look a bit harder to see the good stuff this year, so at the start of December I decided to take a moment each day to think of something from 2020 that I’m grateful for.

I originally shared these on Twitter, one tweet each day. It was especially nice to have a few other people joining in – old friends and new – and to see the similarities and differences in the things we are each grateful for this year. In general, it feels like the big overwhelming events of 2020 have made us all reflect on the simple things close to home that we sometimes take for granted.

As a way of recording my own moments of gratitude all in one place I’ve turned them into this quick blog post.

I’d love to read your own thoughts on what you’ve been grateful for during this hugely challenging year. Feel free to share yours in the comments below. Continue reading

Waiting

Everyone warned us that this bit of the process sucks.

Guess what? They were right.

DorkyDad is five weeks out from the end of treatment, and he’s making incredible progress, but it is so much slower and more gradual than we had hoped and imagined.

I imagine this is how the second lockdown felt to everyone in Melbourne. Your reserves – of patience, of positivity, of bright ideas – are already exhausted, but there’s no option except to keep doing it, day after day after day. Continue reading