Finding Your Way through Writer’s Block

Feijoa season is finished for the year in my garden. I’ve pruned the trees now the fruit are finished, snipping off the branches growing too close together, making sure there was space for birds to fly through. The sun was hot for late May, more like a spring day in the northern hemisphere than an…

Shoelaces – a short story

My shoelaces are missing again. My running shoes lie strewn on the floor, pointing in opposite directions. A ladder of darker grooves imprints the white leather tongues. The first time, we have this conversation. – Have you seen my shoelaces? – What do you want laces for? – I want to go for a run.…

Rundown on a Rare Disease

Today was a lucky day. I found a four-leafed clover. Our garden was a farm paddock before they put a road and houses here, and if we don’t keep the lawn under control it swiftly reverts to type and the clover runs rampant. It’s the first time I found a four-leafed clover – despite hunting…

Writing from Memory and Life

Memory and experience are fertile places for writers. I always think the stories and poems we react most strongly to are the ones that strike a chord of empathy or understanding, because we have experienced similar things or thoughts ourselves. One of my favourite poems is Originally, by Carol Ann Duffy and One Art, by…

At Midnight

The clock has struck midnight and all is quiet in our neck of the woods. But there was a time, a few years back, a certain small girl (she knows who she is) thought midnight was not a time for sleeping, but singing. It’s actually more like a quarter of a century back, and now…

Self Care, Cat Style

On a day out to Palmerston North recently, we took an unexpected detour. Most detours are tedious interruptions involving traffic cones and tortoise-paced driving. Not this one. This one was a spontaneous decision triggered by the sight of the SPCA sign at the side of the road. Shall we go in? we said. The previous…

Walking Sticks & Freedom

This morning was one of those grey-white, mizzly days. Warm, and not quite raining, but the sun seemed to have decided to stay in bed, wrapped up in the snuggly folds of duvet-clouds. I, on the other hand, was fizzing with energy (rare, and not-to-be-wasted), even after a shower. So after breakfast, we decided to…

Getting Mail

An envelope fluttered into my mailbox yesterday. When I was a kid, getting post was one of the most exciting things ever. That sense of wonder and anticipation fizzing when you saw your own name on the front of the envelope. Inside was always something worth the fizz – if it wasn’t birthday or Christmas…