Yesterday was a low point. I realised I didn’t want to do anything. Not even if it was delivered on a silver platter by Michael Bublé. Even a shower seemed overwhelming. Though I did get that done eventually. As I was drifting around the apartment around midnight, taking photos of…
I wrote the first poem, just as it describes, after cataract surgery when we were in Adelaide. We had been home a few weeks when…
Once upon a time, there was a bricklayer who was an artist. His bricklaying was beautiful, but he wanted to paint pictures too. I met…
Whoosh! chartreuse chatter lifts into a golden evening. Imagination did not prepare me for the spectacle of wild budgies as they heave and push through…
When Don retired we both needed to do some rearranging of investment/retirement funds. Mine had been paid for by me with my freelance work over…