Writer Contributions from 2010

Christmas at Uncle Bertie’s

Uncle Bertie was the patriarch of the family and once again Christmas was to be celebrated at his farm in Dorset. He had been born in 1900 and so had not only lived at the time of the 1917 communist revolu­tion in Russia but had, in fact, become a communist. He never...

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The Slouch Hat

The slouch hat is the immortal symbol of the Aussie Digger! Perhaps when soldiers are seen marching on the parade ground or through city streets it might be regarded as ornamental or decorative with most people liking the look of it. What I am doing, though, is...

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Mystery of the LEFT HAND GLOVE

It was no surprise when the policeman knocked on our door. There has been a series of thefts in the neighbourhood, all involving gardening tools. Mostly wheel barrows, power mowers and whipper snipers; but some inconsequential smaller implements. "Just to eliminate...

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I Know a Man

He had been sitting there without making a single comment for the best part of an hour. The banal conversations carried on by witless people feeling a need to listen to their own voices was mind-numbing. Worse, the content was universally facile and meaningless. Some...

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Future Visions

43 AD Southern Britain Marcus: How long have we been in this wild, god-forsaken country, Sextus? Seems like years but my reckoning says it's only three or four months. Sextus: You probably work things out more carefully than I do, Marcus. Tribune officer rank means...

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A Passionate Interest

I got up early on the morning of July 12th; about 4.15, much as I had on most mornings for the past month. It was the World Cup Final between Holland and Spain. As a football fanatic I was excited. This was the last of the 64 matches in this year's tournament, held...

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Wedding of the summer

The wedding was a disaster. I always knew it would be and I said so. Alice was too young. I was not the only one who thought she was immature and needed to learn more about the world. And Pat! Or Patsie as she called him in her babyish way was, quite frankly, a twit....

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Trees in the forest

I stand before you ancient and strong And have witnessed so many rights and wrongs. The wind and rain and fire, have tried To make me give up my life and pride. The birds sing and rest in my arms The bees search for a home in my palm And possums scatter and animals...

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Seed Banks

She sat listening as the Curator from the Seed Bank at the Royal Tasmanian Botanical Gardens described the methods of drying, encasing seed packets in alfoil and then placing them in long term freezers for future generations. He spoke of back-up generators to be used...

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Something I am Passionate About:

“The sounding cataract haunted me like a passion” ( Wordsworth, from lines composed above Tintern Abbey, 1798.) Words are my passion, mainly English words, but I also love the suggestiveness of some French words and the guttural assurance of German. I love the way a...

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Fluffiness

I recall that my mother used to iron everything! I managed to dis­suade her from ironing bath and tea towels by explaining that iron­ing flat their fluffiness (hey! fluffiness! that's a nice word) caused a dimi­nution of capillary action and therefore ironed towels...

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Tour de Farce

It's early in the morning, But you're already late, So gulp down half your breakfast, And be on the bus by eight. C'os you're on a tour of Europe, Ten countries in five days, From bloody cold Britannia, To Italy's sweltering haze. It's another darn cathedral, Built in...

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Time

Time is so precious, don't throw it away. Take time for yourself and others each day. Time to say thank you for all that you have, Be it ever so simple or ever so lav-(ish). Time for a greeting a smile or a hug, For conversing and laughing over a mug Of hot coffee,...

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The Rocking Horse

Tina drove up the dirt track of her late grandparent’s farm road to the main house, in her old battered car, with her child on the back seat. It was very late in the evening and they were tired and very hungry. Tina had been left the farm in her grandparent’s will as...

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What a Blooming Language

With hair the colour of chestnuts And eyes of cornflower blue. She was a gardener’s daughter And knew a thing or two Of flowers So he made her a tussie mussie That spelt out a message with each Bloom telling of his devotion In that old and secret speech Of flowers...

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Baseball Bush Style

I have only played Baseball once. I have played Rounders, the old English cum European kid's game the American one is based on, but not the New World version. At secondary school I played sports. You had to. You had to be paraplegic to get out of playing some sort of...

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