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Now we are six(+24).


This Saturday coming is my thirtieth birthday. I remember my tenth birthday in particular. I was terrified of being ten. I remember lying on a blue couch and tracing the numbers '1' and '0' in the carpet and crying because I was so bloody old and I hadn't achieved anything and I was nearly dead. Now that I have my own nearly ten-year-old, I feel the anxiety of myself at that age even more acutely. I'm looking forward to this milestone birthday,...

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Are bloggers taking ‘cash for comment’?

I didn't apply to be part of the Human Brochure, because I am scared of flying and if I were to lose my head for a minute and get on a plane, it would be to Hong Kong and not Canberra. But some people did, and they were gifted a No Expense Spared Weekend of a Lifetime in the Australian capital. By all accounts there was food, booze, food, tours, food, room service, food and roundabouts. Predictably, the Human Brochure expedition...

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The fear of open spaces

I'm an agoraphobe. It's funny, I think pretty much everyone knows what one of those is now. It's become a thing that people are. I'd describe my phobia as "moderate". I'm not housebound (unless I really crack the shits and use it as an excuse to refuse to do things) and I often enjoy being outdoors. Some days I look through my window and am suffocated by total illogical panic, but that's not often, and mostly on Saturdays, which makes it...

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Moving to America

A little girl in Georgia's class moved away to America today. They had a party. We bought cupcakes with sugar flowers on them. When we drove to school, Georgia said she was excited about the party. "There will be lamingtons!" she said. At before school care, Anne put the cakes in the fridge and asked if it was Georgia's birthday. "No, we're having a party!" she said. After school, Georgia told me all about the party. There were cocktail franks that had exploded and miniature cream...

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A bit of manual stimulation

Apparently I found it necessary to buy a typewriter. The good news is that I managed to get it out of its case and on to my desk, whereafter I typed some words and lost my finger between the keys quite often (see Fig. 1). I've been led to believe that typewriters need names. This one is an Adler Contessa in very bright orange and so far I've called it "Whose idea was this?" and "Is it possible that the novelty...

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Lily, card maker.

Lily has been busily making a birthday card for my mum. I am quite impressed by the poetry of the greeting: nanna, dear nanna. This sets the tone of the card nicely - it is a serious reflection on just how important Lily's nanna is in her life. I didn't have any digital photos of her, so Lily plonked her name into Google and found a very nice black and white number. Fortunately for mum, Lily has also captioned said photo helpfully, taking...

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They were more fuchsia, actually

Music. I think. Something is making the balcony vibrate. Is it an earthquake? No, I'm pretty sure it's the music. It was pretty loud inside. I'm standing in a circle with three guys. We're huddled close together, but we needn't be. No one cares. Hell, you can sit right at the bar and light up this side of town and the bartender won't even look at you. Bic lighters are so hard to keep alight if you haven't taken the metal bit...

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What I know about … writing

What I know about writing is the music. For a little while I even thought I wanted to be a musician. My piano teacher bailed on me when I was 6 years old because I didn't practice, even when he offered to give me actual money from his own pocket. I was easily frustrated by being no good at pressing the keys in the right order and moved on to singing, because at least I could do it while I was...

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After the nurse leaves, I go outside and sit on a cobbled wall. The stones are cold. I call the only number I can remember. "Mum." She breathes at the end of the line. "Mum, the baby died." Minutes pass between us in a dull silence. It might be raining. "Mum?" Her sigh is thick as wet bread. "You must be relieved." It is raining....

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Just the two kids, thanks.

In the moments before I woke up this morning, I had a little dream. Two plastic sticks on a table in front of me: on the left, one line; on the right, two lines. A few seconds spent with a new life. When I did blink at the morning, one of my non-dream children was vomiting and the other was crying because she didn't want to vomit too. And yet.   The decision not to have more children - or maybe the realisation that...

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Something I write sometimes

JustB is one of the most beautiful, delightful websites in the world. It may therefore come as a surprise to you to learn that I write a fortnightly column for them wherein they let me whine about things that are annoying in my room, society and the broader universe. Every other week I have a little tongue in cheek complaint about one thing or another and occasionally two or more things. This fortnight I'm going on about the way the weather...

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