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The Santas

I  can still hear the sound echoing in my ear….





Santa 2.0 pounding aggressively on the keyboard. Single digits. He’s not fast. Maybe that’s a good thing. I wonder if he is writing a love letter?

Earlier, Santa 1.0 was arguing with the librarian about his internet use. A surgical mask covered part of his ratty beard.

What makes libraries so appealing to long, white bearded men and why are they so annoying?

My image of Santa has been tainted. Lucky it’s only May – plenty of time to forget the CLACK, CLACK, CLACK of the keys and surgical mask.

I went to the library to avoid distractions and write.

Now I’m sitting in the back of my car with my feet on the console and my laptop resting on my thighs.

It is blissfully silent.



The Wait

I’m sitting in the waiting room.

My palms are sweaty and I can feel my heart pounding against my chest.

I don’t want to be here.

I just want it to be over.

I can hear the noises down the hall.

The drilling.

The sucking.

The gargling.

It’s unnatural. These instruments of death do not belong in a person’s mouth.

Why is this person being worked on for so long?

What on Earth did they do to deserve such torture?!

God, I hate going to the dentist!

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The Showdown

As soon as we locked eyes, I knew we were in trouble.

I looked at The Cat to see if she had noticed it.

The Cat was oblivious. So far, so good.

Now if only it would just turn around and go back where it came from.

I stand still and watch with bated breath.

It stops. And continues to stare. Right. At. Me!

I look down at The Cat. She still hasn’t noticed.

It looks young. And terrified. It looks like a deer caught in headlights. Except it’s not a deer, it’s a possum and I don’t think The Cat has ever seen one.

I don’t want The Cat to see it.

The Cat has seen it.



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The Peace

Clearly I haven’t been on here in a while. I almost considered closing this thing down. But I didn’t want to disappoint my faithful followers who clearly wait by the computer/laptop/phone with bated breath. Just waiting for the next instalment of my riveting life. So here I am….BACK!


The other day, I came across some short stories that I had typed up on my phone. Moments that I had to write down then and there with not a pad or pen in sight. I’ve decided to share some of them with you. They’re not Shakespeare but they’re me and that’s ok.

The story (could you call it a poem?) below was written nearly a year and a half ago and yet I remember exactly where I was when I typed it down on my phone. I was on my way to the Royal Exhibition Building to meet up with a friend. I wonder if they will figure it out.

Walking through the park I see people doing tai chi.

Others are lying on the grass, reading, napping.

I hear the thwack of the tennis balls from a local court.

Joggers go by.

The temperature is balmy.

It is a beautiful morning. 

Then a jackhammer breaks the silence and I remember where I am.

I’m still at peace.

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The DOG Theme

KBR’s theme for February is DOG. This was my submission. It didn’t make the cut so I thought I’d put it on here. I’ll be honest, it’s not my best work. Now that I have you on the edge of your seats with anticipation….ENJOY!


There are six earplugs on the floor. Three in the bedroom, two in the lounge room and one in the hallway. There is even one in the kitchen sink!

And they’re the ones I could find.

This is not an earplug hunt.

We do not have an aversion to sound.

We just have a pet that loves to play fetch….with earplugs.


It all started when the next door neighbours had a party and felt the need to provide a karaoke machine.

It was not music to my ears.

In fact all the dogs in the neighbourhood started howling.

Except Carl.

Carl doesn’t howl. Unless Mark’s cat makes an appearance in the front yard. Carl doesn’t like Mark’s cat. I’m not sure why.

So anyway, as I was saying, next door was having a party and they were attempting to break all the china in my house.

Sleep was never going to be achieved so the earplugs were summoned. I squashed them into my ears as far as they would go.

Silence at last.

I settled into bed and closed my eyes.

Just as I was about to drift off to sleep I felt the earplugs start to move and expand. Before I knew it, they were flying out of my ears and over the side of the bed.

The sound of a tiny bell and a thump alerted me to Carl’s presence.

Next thing I knew Carl was sitting on my chest with an earplug at her feet. Yes, Carl is a girl.

I couldn’t believe that she had fetched my earplug. So I picked it up and threw it. Carl leapt off the edge of the bed and seconds later the earplug was back beside me.

All sound of breaking china was forgotten as Carl and I spent hours playing fetch.

No place was off limits. I threw the earplug on the third tier of my 10 tier bookshelf. I threw it on top of the fan, in-between the pillows and amongst my pile of laundry.

We moved to the kitchen. On top of the fridge, under the sink, between the dishes.

The earplug was thrown onto lampshades, under pot plants and behind the tv.

People needed to see this so I did some research online and as luck would have it, there was a an earplug fetching competition and the winner would receive $500!

I registered Carl straight away.

We practiced all week. There was no way Carl could be beaten. She was an earplug-hunting machine!

Competition day had arrived. We were ready.

“I’m sorry, but she can’t enter this competition”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because she’s a cat”

“Yes. And?”

“And this competition is for dogs”

Clearly, I was not happy. Carl didn’t seem too fazed by it.

We returned home. I was upset. A nudge on my arm and the sound of a little bell alerted me to Carl’s presence. She had an earplug in her mouth.


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The Writer

I don’t have work today and The Wifey is at the office.

It is the perfect opportunity for me to see how life would be if were fortunate to make a living as a full time writer.

I did not sleep in. This was a positive start.

We got up at a reasonable hour so that we could still go for our morning walk before The Wifey left.

I made us a healthy breakfast of oats with frozen berries and a green juice.

It’s now 10.30am. I’ve showered and washed the dishes. Even played fetch with The Cat.

Time to write.

Gee, the kitchen floor looks disgusting! How on earth does it get so gross in a few days?!

Just ignore it. Wait till the weekend.


Nope, I can’t!

If I just give it a quick steam mop, I’ll be able to concentrate.

I may as well do a load of washing while I’m at it then I can throw the mop’s cloth in there too.

Ok. Steam mop, wash clothes THEN write. It’s still early. Plenty of time.

The Cat is getting restless. She knows laundry means she gets to go outside in the courtyard.

It’s a beautiful, sunny day. Maybe I’ll write out here. I can settle into my new deck chair with a cup of tea and my lappy. It will be perfect.


I may as well take the clothes off the line and fold the sheets and towels first though, right? While I wait for the washing to finish. It makes sense.

Ok. Fold the sheets, towels and clothes from the line THEN hang out the washing, make a cuppa, grab the lappy, settle in the deck chair and write.

I’m so glad I spent Sunday gardening. I’m not ashamed to say that I’m proud of my effort. It looks so good!

*toots own horn*

If only I’d had time to scrub down the decking and wash the outdoor table.

5 minutes later….

No! I am not washing down the decking today. It can wait till the weekend.

The washing will be ready in 15 minutes. I’ll just call The Mother for a quick chat..

1 hour later….

Wow, lunchtime already!

Ok. Hang out the washing, have lunch THEN make a cuppa, grab the lappy, settle in the deck chair and write.


I think that was quite possibly the best wrap I have ever created.

*toots own horn….again*

I may as well watch a couple of overs of cricket while I let my lunch digest.

I mean it would be a waste of an opportunity since The Wifey  doesn’t like cricket and never wants to watch it.



It’s almost 5pm…..knock-off time!

I’ve put in a solid 2 hours of writing including typing up a story I wrote last night. It counts! It’s 150 words short. How should I make up the words? Whatever you do, don’t waffle or detail every inane tidbit. You will lose the audience….

Think I’m due some reading and nap time before The Wifey gets home and we head out for dinner with friends.

The battey’s running low on the lappy anyway. A clear sign that I should call it a night.


Yep, I reckon I have what it takes.


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The Lesson

“Waggle, waggle, waggle.

You want to hit it north to south, not east to west.

Waggle, waggle, waggle.

Now I want you to cross your legs.

Step closer.

Look straight down.

Don’t forget to waggle.

And just let it go.

Let it drop”


Golfing 101