Dim's Write Stuff

Dearest England, Forgive me. It's been too long since I've been in touch. But while sorting through my shoe box of snap shots the other day, I came across splashes of colour, images frozen in time, which reminded me of you and of Christmas last. I thought you'd like to see some. I can't believe it's been nearly five weeks since we left Nelson's country. The bracing cold air of Norfolk in winter is losing its bite. The memory of it, burning my cheeks and causing my ears to throb, fading like a dream upon waking. I cling to it just as fervently but it's hard to retain such a memory when the humidity here makes you sweat even as you sit unmoving.  Frost on the field of Norfolk, early morning.  We expected more snow. You gave us the second mildest UK Christmas on record. We expected rain. You cleared away the cumulus revealing crystalline blue skies day after day. It's been raining nearly every week since we got back. Heavy, relentless sub trop...

Okay, so seeing swans is one serendipitous side effect of an unplanned early morning walk. I've been waiting patiently for Opportunity to approach again. Waiting for it to hammer repeatedly on my door with unsolicited offers of publication. Alas, no bang the door down deals yet but it has been tapping away. And I decided to let it in... I've been invited by teacher-librarian and food reviewer  Marj Osborne to speak alongside esteemed children's author illustrator Narelle Oliver  at Aquinas College on the Gold Coast next month. Like anyone opening their door to an unannounced visitor offering news too good to be true, I immediately wondered, have they got the right person? Is this for real? Apparently, Marj has and it is. My tummy is a blender full of emotions. Excitement is whizzing around a million miles an hours with trepidation. I confess, this cocktail has set my nerves slightly ajar. I can't remember the last time I spoke t...

The sun had barely eased its way out of bed. The air was still bitey and damp with last night's dew. I arrived at the gym for yoga practice with enough time to secure a spot and have a nice lie down before the class began, only to be told that it was cancelled. Sorry, you should have noticed the sign we just put up. What about a sauna instead? front desk guy offered cheerfully. Great, only I'd dressed for a yoga class not a semi naked sweat out. What about the gym? Um, well would wearing thongs on the treadmill be okay then? No sorry - against health and safety. So, abandoning the idea of getting healthy within the gym, I left. What to do for an hour before I needed to be home, I wondered? This was a rare opportunity indeed, an hour of unscheduled time as vacant as the yoga workout room back at the gym. So I snatched it up; dumped my yoga mat back in the car, and went for a walk, which you can do without a towel and just in thongs. I walked under stately poincia...

In my customary always-running-behind style, I seem to have missed out on the fanfare of the New Year; the well wishing, the extravagant wave of resolutions, the insightful posts promising possibilities and commitment. Perhaps I still have time to proclaim, Gong Xi Fa Choy to one and all.  The Year of the Dragon promises extremes, good and bad; that if you double your efforts, double rewards will follow. Don't be complacent and watch your temper! I wonder how all this bears upon my humble 2012 Resolutions: Write More, Eat Less (no really)? I thought of another this morning: Be more Forgiving . By this I hope to be less of the Shouty Woman, less impatient with myself and others and less intolerant of all those other shouty, impatient, intolerant so and sos who continually get in my way. Multiple rejections, family constraints and the usual insufficient amount of minutes on my clock will continue to test my metal but it's helmets on and off we go. Found ...

This Xmas, I’d like to put up a tree in my heart, instead of hanging presents. I’d put names of all my friends. Close friends & not so close friends. The old friends, new friends. Those I see every day & ones I rarely see. The ones that I always remember & the ones I sometimes forget. The ones that are always there & the ones that seldom are. The friends of difficult times & the ones of happy times. Friends who, without meaning, I have hurt, or without meaning, have hurt me. Those that I know well & those I only know by name. Those that owe me little & those that I owe so much. My humble friends & my important friends. The names of all those that have passed through my life no matter how fleetingly. A tree with very deep roots, very long, strong branches so that their names may never be plucked from my heart. So that new names from all Over may join the existing ones. A tree with pleasant shade so that our friendship May take a moment of rest from the ba...

True faith drops its letter in the post office box, and lets it go. Distrust holds on to a corner of it, and wonders that the answer never comes. From Days of Heaven upon Earth.  Anyone who knows me, is aware I'm not an overtly devout soul; more a believer of balance, karma, yin and yang kind of girl. But, whether it is a question of your religious faith, your personal life principles or just the confidence in yourself to send that forestalled manuscript in for submission, it pays to let go of the envelope sometimes; to believe in yourself. To have belief in yourself is more than a matter of confidence. It requires commitment; commitment to letting go, breaking free, making choices. In other words, taking risks. Small children do this, without thought, on a daily if not hourly basis. It is their prescription for life, their blue print for learning. They are seldom afraid to move forward because they are blissfully unaware of the risks involved. The...

 Drinking to victory no matter how big or small. Celebrating Pink October There have been a few comings and goings in my life of late. Swings and round abouts, ups and downs. Call them what you will. My little peanut of a brain prefers not to linger too long upon these quandaries of existence. But a couple of weekends ago, as I was running for the lives of others in the Pink Triathlon against Breast Cancer , the very sobering thought that I could be running for my own, tinged my spirits from the usual vibrant fuchsia to an uncertain dusky rose. Not one to share dilemmas openly or even ask for help in times of need, I went about getting a biopsy in an almost stealth like manner. Such cunning can, unfortunately, not be maintained for long when the questionable growth is situated in prime time position on your snout. Oh well. Luckily I don't harbour great quantities of vanity either but after the cut and slice, I did wonder wh...