Tag: memories

A New Year Diary

I have kept diaries for thirty-three years. For twenty-one of those, I used the Belmont A7, day-to-a-page, pocket-diary. Its twenty lines per page proved a perfect fit for my daily entries. However, last August, I lost my 2019 diary and discovered the joy of not being constrained to a page per day.

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Tweet to Five-Year-Old Self

When I was a five-year-old, and my younger brother was only two, our parents separated. My father gained custody of us and to help him look after two young boys, we lived with his parents, my Nan and Pop. I have vivid memories of those days, which is why the #5YearOldSelfie challenge caught my eye.

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New Year’s Resolutions

I’m not into making New Year’s Resolutions, possibly because I don’t trust myself to keep them. However, while on holidays at the end of 2004, a barista with whom I grew friendly over morning coffee fixes, talked me into writing a list for 2005. The other day I found the list and my year-end review.

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Sixteen Xmas Memories

Unlike my son, born in the era of digital cameras and phones, there are few photos of me from my childhood years, and even less of me as a teenager. I do have one with my mother and two of my brothers, taken on Xmas Day 1976 when I was a surly sixteen-year-old. *Gulp*, my son is sixteen this Xmas!

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Memories of my Pop

When I was five-years-old, my parents separated, and my younger brother and I moved in to live with our grandparents. While our Nan embraced her two young grandsons with warm grandmotherly arms, our Pop could be standoffish and a little scary, especially when angry with a couple of “naughty boys”.

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My First Buddhist Lesson

It was my younger brother’s idea to attend the Buddhist lesson. He said it was being held in the back room of a pub, a short walk from my flat, which was handy because we were running late and my bladder felt full as we headed out the door. But I had decided to hold on until we got to the pub.

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Can I Pat That Dog?

When my son was a five-year-old, I gave a talk at his child care centre called, Can I Pat That Dog? I based it on a book of the same title written by Susan McLaine. And though it’s over ten years since that visit and my “little boy” now towers over me, I still highly recommend the book.

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Writing Can Be Lonely

Writing can be lonely, especially if you’re living on your own in a cramped flat, in another country, far away from family and friends. So I volunteered to work one afternoon a week at the local Oxfam shop, to get away from my writing desk, to get out of my flat, and to meet and mingle with people.

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32 Years of Diaries

In a cupboard at home is a cardboard box containing all the daily diaries and travel journals I’ve kept since I set off backpacking from Australia in 1987. By their nature, daily diaries of work and everyday life are less exciting than travel journals and it took me many years to settle on a format.

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