Happy 15th Birthday to our Son

It was our son’s birthday and he turned 15 #woohoo

Happy Birthday 😍😍😍

I had a word upstairs and she put on a full moon for the occasion 😉

full moonWe had ice-cream cake
cake (800x717)

Our lovely friends bought a pavlova over 😍

pavlova (800x575)

Molly missed out on the cake #notfair
canvasDoesn’t time fly when you’re having fun! 😎


For all my friends from the olden days 😉 (Insert Cliché Title)

relaxInsert Cliché Title

Jim Croce soundtrack
in a leather suitcase –
photographs and memories

do you remember


cameras used film
negatives were stored
photographs were printed
at Indooroopilly Shoppingtown
while we caught up and roamed,


births, deaths, marriages
and aftermaths
were faithfully recorded
on my crappy camera
that I always carried,


everyone thought they had found the one,
then they found the next one
and the next one,


we wore hippy skirts
exotic accessories and footwear,
then moved on to Relax Wham t-shirts
permed hair
and near permanent scowls,


bad hair was everywhere,
our changing styles
matched our way-out friends –
now gone to the dogs
or missing in action,
a few just floated away with the tide …


we were inseparable


Happy Father’s Day

resizedHappy Father’s Day to Shirl (aka Andy the Great)

and to my Dad :)

and Shirl’s Dad Des,

and Peter, Daniel (RIP), and Nigel

and all the other father’s out there 😍

My Dad (Emeritus Professor Paul Crook) has an article out in This View of Life: The Evolution Institute ‘Social Darwinism: Myth and Reality’. Here is the link if you are interested in historical type things.


The Floral Artist


The Floral Artist

Mixing it up
for the birthday basket,
flowers, and what have you.

Creating desire
in the single,
long-stemmed rose.

Matching the occasion
weddings, parties
any blooming thing.

Mending fractures
with mixed bouquet and feelings,
after the falling out.

Meeting expectations
with boutonnière formality
and corsage constraints.

Wakening us to the clock
with crafted funeral flowers –
a limit to style and colour.


Look at my Mum’s tree now!

Today is the first day of spring (and my late mother’s birthday) here in the sub-tropics of Australia.

Two years ago I planted a conifer for her, a Norfolk Island Pine – a tree that gets huge if the conditions are right. It is growing better than any other plants on the property.

Mum's Tree 1st September 2015

A Tree to Remember

1st of September,
Spring in Australia
thinks it’s summer.

Birthday tree,
sapling Norfolk Island Pine
begins the journey

to remember
my late mother,
treasure in my eyes.

Rain, wind, salt and heat
pray on hard scaly leaves,
majesty in growth.


Here it is last year

mums-tree-2014-1-septand when it was first planted

mums-norfolk-island-pine-800x530Happy birthday Mum 😍


Share your Lady Mondegreen 😉


Lady Mondegreen

Do you know what a mondegreen is?

It’s a fancy name for when you get the lyrics to a song or a phrase of verse wrong. Yes, we’ve all done it 😅.

The name mondegreen came about from American writer Sylvia Wright who coined the term based on a childhood misunderstanding. Her mother used to recite the poem Percy’s Reliques and this is what Sylvia heard:

Ye Highlands and ye Lowlands,
Oh, where hae ye been?
They hae slain the Earl O’ Moray,
And Lady Mondegreen.

The last line was supposed to be ‘And laid him on the green’.

They had a Lady Mondegreen segment on the now defunct Spicks and Specks (why do they get rid of all the good shows?) where the contestents had to guess the song based on the mondegreen.

Someone thought that ‘there’s a bad moon on the rise’ by Creedence Clearwater Revival was ‘there’s a bathroom on the right!’

You get the picture.

When praying the Lord’s Prayer as a little girl I was known to say ‘Our Father, who aren’t in heaven, hello be thy name’. This would crack my brothers and sister up and Mum would tell them to leave the room.

Have you got a mondegreen you would like to share.

The Kangaroo Collective

kangaroo collective

The Kangaroo Collective

Motionless Eastern Grey mob
of kangaroos,
frozen with fear,
landscape gardening statues,
twitching ears
the only clue to life,
rotating at seemingly 360 degrees
like a periscope
trying to shake off the sea,
ever alert to the slightest whisper of danger.

Adrenaline overdose,
fight or flight.

Like a tightly wound spring that uncoils in an instant, one flees,

the agoraphobic escapes the shopping centre.

A sudden thumping alarm,
set off by the bolter,
catapults the mob outwards.

There is no synchrony
like a flock of parrots flying kites in the sky.

The kangaroo collective
mindlessly explodes in all directions,
erratic zigzagging across the plains,
confusing predators with

Muscles of leg and tail store energy
like the springs of a pogo stick.
Elastic storage of hopping energy
in tendons, released into
effortless bounding motion.

Large muscular males
traverse the ground
at speed
with powerful hind legs

Females, most weighted down
with joey-filled pouches
– not so fast.

Out-of-pouch youngsters
struggle to keep up with their mothers.

Instinct has kicked in
the brain of the mammal takes a back seat.

One kangaroo apart from the collective
hops into the path

of traffic

– Collected –

instant death

Beauty in motion, motionless corpse.

A crow’s meal lays waiting.

The mob reforms
to graze again.

kangaroo woodgate