Lost and Found
I met a man this week, Ian, who finds things. Things have a way of finding him too. Ian collects objects other people discard and, like his father and grandfather … Continue reading
Letting go of the garden
It’s only the third week of spring and Broken Hill has already seen a run of days above thirty, followed by thunder, lightning, rain and nights that have dropped to … Continue reading
Dear Me
I’m writing a memoir, not because I’m famous but because the publisher thinks I have a story to tell. If I’m honest, so do I. But there’s the rub. Honesty. My … Continue reading
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