From my grandma’s swing chair

It’s been nearly three weeks since the 45mm rain, and so I have been out watering this morning. In between hose-moves I’ve sat in the old swing chair that belonged to my grandmother, which is by the shed.

Before we built the house Edi and I with our three littlies sat here every morning, and had a cup of coffee and biscuits, while gazing out over the range. There was not much to look at in the garden back then.

Seven years ago

Seven years ago

Since we moved here 5 1/2 years ago I have hardly used this swing chair, so when I do it’s like a trip back in time, and I can see how much the garden has progressed. The plants that is, on my behalf the area is suffering from serious neglect and needs a revamp.

From the swing chair.

From the swing chair now.

Autumn brings us endless sunshine with more gentle temperatures, and the caterpillars begin to march in long lines across the dirt roads around here. I try to avoid them, but this morning there was one lot stretched across the entire road when I took the kids to school.

Birds seem busier; crows caw, magpies warble and eagles soar while sparrows flit about. I don’t see them much in summer, and that could be because I’m in hiding, or perhaps they are too.

Leyla the 15-year-old cat has come to join me here on this chair as I try to write my ‘Nanobook’, a novel I started last November (National Novel Writing Month). The words are not coming very easily.

One thing I have no trouble writing is my journal, which is an extended version of this blog, or rather, this blog is a snippet of my journal. I started three months after Edi died and so far I have filled eleven 128 page notebooks with my scrawly writing – I’ve had lots to chronicle. That’s about three 80-90,ooo word books. Come on publishing houses – these books will help lots of people through a  lot of crap! Don’t make me self-publish them!


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