Tag Archives: childhood

Red Hen

Jasper is cleaning out his bedroom. He is decluttering. He is exhuming the detritus of a ten-year old because soon he will be eleven and eleven-year olds have moved on from Little Golden Books, and Dr Seuss. Anything you don’t … Continue reading

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Hockey Dogs

Hockey training takes place on an oval in Fremantle. It is a multi-use oval with cricket nets and clubrooms shared by both the cricket and the hockey fraternities. For the cricket families it would be a refuge from the heat. … Continue reading

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A Tree

Thinking of a tree. It is the tree of my childhood. It is an Australian tree. It was always big, but the smaller you are, the bigger it seems. It looks like it touches the sky, when you think the … Continue reading

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Leunig in the Kitchen

Leunig asks himself, “What is this?” It is his way in to everything. He describes his childhood as one of benign neglect. He grew up in a working class family with four other siblings. He played in paddocks on the … Continue reading

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Imagine

  Imagine you are ten years old and deciding what to do with your life. Butcher, baker, candlestick maker. You have an unimaginable future ahead of you. You cannot perceive of an illness or accident that would prevent you from … Continue reading

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Missing Jasper

Jasper is away. A long way away. He is across a very big continent. He is in a different time zone. He is not with either of his parents. It feels weird. He rings and his voice is so young. … Continue reading

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Rottnest 2012

  Every year we go to Rottnest in November. It is our family tradition. We have done it since Jasper was in utero and before he was even thought of. In those days we had an imaginary child called Pee … Continue reading

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The River House

  It is all about the water.   Seen from the house it captures your attention. Look at the river now. So smooth. Not like water at all. Some other kind of liquid…   At the bottom of the gently … Continue reading

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In the Wood Pile

  The neighbour has had some wood delivered and Charlie is helping stack the pile. The day is crisp. The sky, cobalt blue. (Let’s be honest here, it isn’t cobalt blue, since that is darker, more intense than the colour … Continue reading

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Neighbours

We live on a dead-end. At the end of the road is a park. Three federation workers cottages, built-in 1905, border the grassy reserve where the council has planted paper barks, and then tried to kill them repeatedly by ring … Continue reading

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