A Christmas Tale
It was dark, eerily so, in the Docklands in London. Save for a woman sweeping up ahead, we felt like the only souls wandering the streets at this hour. As we approached her, she stopped sweeping and turned towards us…
It was dark, eerily so, in the Docklands in London. Save for a woman sweeping up ahead, we felt like the only souls wandering the streets at this hour. As we approached her, she stopped sweeping and turned towards us…
Reliving an extended weekend in Orange, NSW, with great friends, good food, horse racing and visiting the Dish.
I’ve spent three of the past four days in the city but today’s quick trip was less about meeting people and more checking off my to-do. Today’s jaunt started in SoMa, headed up through the top of the FiDi and into Union Square. And now, I’ve returned home, having done most of my chores in preparation for the new week. It’s a good day. \
A year ago today, I found myself sitting on the polished floorboards of the King George V Rec Centre tucked underneath the Sydney Harbour Bridge, clutching at my wrist.
I arrived safely at Hartsfield-Jackson Airport in Atlanta. Or Hotlanta, as the locals call it. I’d finally made it to the South, something I’d always wanted to do.
I just finished reading ‘The Pumpkin Eater’ by Penelope Mortimer. The book holds up well more than fifty years later. She was a fascinating person, too.