Each of my children has subtly sculpted me, their mother, into a person who must sometimes forget where they end and I begin. They have taken my personality edges and with the shorelines of their growth from baby hood to adolescence, mellowed me out to a person who values the sleep in they denied meContinue reading “Called to Motherhood: Piece 8”
Don’t Kill That Recorder: Piece 7
Dad was keen to instil in us a love of music. The very first instrument he taught me was the recorder. He told me that so many people killed it when they played it. He was determined I wouldn’t be one of them. He himself played the recorder, beautifully, along with the tin whistle.Continue reading “Don’t Kill That Recorder: Piece 7”
An Anti Ode to Tupperware
Recently the Monday online writing sprint group I love to participate in decided to have a writing challenge about Tupperware. We’d been discussing the directions of our posts within the group, and I quipped “as long as no one tries to sell me tupperware or linen here I’ll be happy.” It was amazing to findContinue reading “An Anti Ode to Tupperware”
The Motely-get-together-whenever-we-can-choir: Piece 6
We were the motely-get-together-whenever-we-can-choir, from all corners of the globe and all corners of the state of Tasmania, but our choir teacher, Erica, was a talented music teacher who didn’t mind our varying skills and took delight in our different cultural backgrounds. Erica would help us to find our pitch and tone. She’d do thisContinue reading “The Motely-get-together-whenever-we-can-choir: Piece 6”
Sandra’s Rainbows: Piece 5
My first memory is of puppet shows my brother and I would put together behind Sandra’s couch in Devonport, Tasmania. Our family and hers would watch as we unfolded our story. They were for Baha’i children classes. The next I have is of perching on a small orange car and racing down the extremely steepContinue reading “Sandra’s Rainbows: Piece 5”
June Paisa Perkins 