The walls are splattered with blood.My bloodmy husband’s bloodtoo much blood spilled tonight.Grey ghosts we call them, orWhite walkersNew arrivals, pale, nearly invisible, evil A gentle snore,maybe human or canineNot loud enough to keep me awakeI begin to dose offNervous system spiked alertby the spine chilling zzzz in my earSmack, smack with a back hand whack onto … Continue reading The Walls Are Splattered With Blood
“What are those phallic looking ones there?” my friend Kathryn asks. “They’re Echiums, the bees love them. Echium cobalt towers I’d say. I’ve got some in my garden. If you stand near them on a sunny day, it’s so loudy-buzzy.” “Loudy-buzzy? Is that a word?” I make a sound a bit like a closed mouth … Continue reading Dandenong Ranges Botanical Gardens, A place of friendship, beauty and healing
The golden afternoon light shines into the living room. I love this time of day. My pattern says there should be 240 stitches by the end of the row. “Nobody talk to me for a minute,” I announce, “I’m counting.” Ah, dear. Too late now, I realise I’ve made a school girl error – never … Continue reading Mum’s Caff
The Florida morning is warm and the sea is calm. Just like every day since Harry and I arrived at Key West. Walking onto the marina we look at each with excited grins and agree that it’s perfect weather for a sailing trip. I love looking at the boats and can’t help feeling a bit … Continue reading That Time I Thought I Might Die at Sea
Meet JaneJane is struggling to keep things togetherJane reaches out looking for helpThe People shake their heads and say I know it’s tough isn’t it?It’s normal,We’re all struggling.The People say Selfcare is the answer, are you looking after yourself?Jane asks What is selfcare?The People tell her to go away on a weekend alone, go on a date, take … Continue reading Once there was a Village, now there is Selfcare
“Oh dear, I think we might be lost,” says Nanna. Poppy wakes from her daydeam and turns sharply to her grandmother. The faint ghost of a smile removes any tiny spark of fear that they could be in danger. “Oh no! What are we going to do? How’ll we get home?” Poppy plays along. Nanna … Continue reading Nanna, Fanta and Withering Looks
Amanda Gambas Author 