Category: About Writing

The New Place …

Where to start?

The improvements on the previous place are numerous though I’m too tired now to do little more than describe the excellent light … in the lounge room, one whole wall is ceiling to floor glass, fixed panes and sliding doors, about two and a three quarter meters tall.

Where I’m sitting on the couch typing this blog post, what I see opposite is Rainer Hartlieb’s work of timber art … the shelf units he made for me in 2014 or thereabouts, when I lived in my Mullumbimby house … put back together and adapted for the space by my son.

This version of the shelf unit is approximately 75 centimeters shorter than the original which had a window seat included. The uprights and top length are of Queensland kauri. The short side shelves might be white pine, though I don’t recall that for certain. They made up three large handrails salvaged from a building site. The broad lower shelves are cypress pine, a width of timber that will never be seen again. These were my discovery. A $30 score from a secondhand store, they’d been used in a paint store, their undersides a thick coating of spilled paint.

Cat Tales 21


I’ve been haunting the tadpole pond for weeks now. Every morning I sit on it in my favorite spot. As the palm fronds have become more pliable through soaking in the water, I’ve been able to wedge a couple of the leaflets aside. To see better.

I stare at the water, at the little blobs wriggling in a ceaseless dance from the top of the water to take a breath, and down again to the bottom of the pond where to hide in the muck down there.

Every so often, I admit, I forget that I’m sitting there merely to look. To study. To enjoy. I stick my paw in. Did you know that I’m right-pawed? Bet you didn’t know cats have a dominant front paw? Hope you were distracted and didn’t see me hook out a slow swimmer? I’ve caught quite a few already. They make a tasty little snack. I guess that egret knows what is what, after all.

But seriously, I’m helping to freshen up the gene pool. I’m helping to breed faster frog tadpoles.
The pernickety old woman caught me at it. Was she upset?
Ropeable, is the word. Like smoke came out of her ears. She’s banished me.

I’m at a loss what to do now. The deck is so boring when you know there’s all that activity going on in the pond. I should just run over there when she isn’t looking, hop up onto the coaming and pretend to be a statue.

Obviously that didn’t work. The pernickety old woman carried me back to the house and shut me in the sun-room while she’s gone to meet friends. Even lounging illegally on the red chair gives me no satisfaction.

I know that when she comes home and sees me on it, she’ll lift me up and drape a towel over the seat. She says it’s so I don’t shed black and white hairs over the furniture.


I don’t believe her. I think she does it to get a cranky look on my face that she’ll take a photo of. She doesn’t have a proper cranky expression yet in her collection, she says. I might’ve mentioned that couple in Japan who said cats can pull 257 different faces? The pernickety old woman and her friends are collecting cat expressions.

Bosley’s Builders, 10

10. Drew is Blue

Dan decided Wendy should drive, Jackie next to her in the cab. He’d ride in the back, ready to jump out should a bit of shovel work be needed.

“I don’t mind,” Wendy said. “All this rain we’ve been having probably livened up the mud a bit.”

“Hey there! That’s Drew’s van in the track!” Dan said. “Wait here, ladies. I’ll go warn him that we’re coming by!”

“That van looks like it’s stuck in the mud,” Jackie said. “I know the feeling well.”

Wendy slid from the driver’s seat. “He’s going to need help.” She rounded the front of the truck. “We don’t have your winch do we, Dan?”

“Does look like a winch job, Drew,” Dan said, agreeing with her.

“What?! You’ll pull me all the way to the site?” Drew said aggrieved. “I’m doing just fine. I got this far!”

“You need a four-wheel drive,” Dan said.

“We churned the track up plenty coming this far,” Jackie said.

“You need friends,” Wendy said. “I don’t agree that you should get pulled all the way to the site.”

“Then what?” Drew said. “You’ll recall I’m still sleeping on a swag in a dinghy?”

“Yep. My plan will get you up off the ground,” Wendy said.

All three looked at her.

“Okay no, let’s take a step back. Dan, you fetch the winch. With Jackie out of his face, Jed will probably help you install. Jackie, you make us all a cuppa.” She looked at Drew. “You still got the fixings?”

“Yeah. Sure. Go ahead.” He set his shovel aside. “Much as I’d like to toss it.”

Wendy laughed. “Be my guest. Only be prepared to fetch it back. In my experience, winching will need a ton of shovel-work as well, only faster.”

“Why I never asked. I like the slow way, you know? So what will I be doing?” Drew said suspiciously.

“You mean what will we be doing?” Wendy said. “You and me? Having a chat without the usual interruptions?”

“A serious life changing chat?” Drew said lightly.

“Yes,” Wendy said. “You probably can call it that.”

“Go weed the island?” he pointed.

She chuckled. “Here. Have some seedlings. We’ll start planting the island while we talk.”

At the end of their ‘little’ talk, Drew smiled and laughed while Wendy and Jackie and he drank their coffee, waiting for Dan.

“I hear him,” Jackie said. “Quick. I can just rinse these mugs.”

Dan arrived without the winch. “Boss said they couldn’t miss it. I’ve got a tow rope. It’ll be good, don’t worry.” He started knotting it at the front of the van.

“Not here!” Drew said. “We need it at the back. Need you to drag this thing out backwards.” He smacked the back of the van like he smacked a beast on its rump. “It’s goodbye and good times had while we were together.”

Dan shook his head. “What’s got into him?”

“I don’t know,” Jackie said.

Wendy just grinned.

Right. Bit of Wendy magic. Don’t break the spell! Dan concentrated on towing Drew’s van back to the roadside lay-over where Drew had camped for so long.