The Beach

What a great couple of days! This weekend three dear friends, who are all writers, and I caught up at the beach.
My weekend began with a ferry ride, which I always enjoy, but this one was spectacular - near Sorrento, a large pod of dolphins swam in the vessel's wake, dipping and diving. What a sight!
Next, while the rest of our party were traveling, I set up at a picnic table opposite the beach and wrote - nothing like a change of scenery to spark fresh thoughts.
From there is was two days filled with laughter, friendship and inspiration and of course, work.
My friends are not only gorgeous people, but incredibly generous and talented. Even the most uncreative couldn't help but be inspired just being with them.
How lucky am I?

Change of pace...

The coverage of the Christchurch earthquake is heart breaking. Perhaps that's why when my daughter showed me this picture I laughed like crazy, because laughing is such a release. Or maybe it's funny because I love Madagascar. Whatever the cause, hope this brightens your day too.

Christchurch

A few years ago, we drove a camper van around the New Zealand South Island and had the most sensational time. We fell truly, madly, deeply in love with the people and the place. It is truly an exquisite country.
It's hard to reconcile our memories with the images and stories flooding our TV and computer screens at the moment. I can not begin to imagine the terror, grief and shock nor the feelings of helplessness.
My thoughts and prayers are with those affected. 

Writing Spaces

I've been thinking about writing spaces this morning, prompted by two posts by friends. Karen Tayleur wrote about claustrophobia and the need for a view (quoted the brilliant Police, so it's all good) another friend, Michael Gerard Bauer posted a picture of his old writing space. So what makes a great space for me?
I'd so love a Kiki K office, but as hard as I try, my desk always ends up covered in bits and pieces.
Photos, notes, Snoopy, Collingwood stuff, including the last remaining patch from my old duffle coat (Mum burnt it, thanks for asking. I'd rather not discuss it.), CDs, cartoons, notes from my daughter and cards. Yep, it's a mess, but everything on and around it is important.
Every time I finish a project, I clear the decks and redo the noticeboards and desk, but in no time, it's cluttered again. Chaos right? Not at all! I can lay my hand on everything that I need and look out if anyone moves anything or adds to my debris - it's ordered chaos.
As for windows, I have a view onto olive trees, a peppercorn and the rooftop of a national trust building, plus and expanse of sky. If I stand up, it's not so attractive - neighbour's Hills Hoist!
I guess the key to it is to create a space that works for you.

Can you spot the patch from my old duffle coat?

Peter Costello...

What on earth is Peter Costello on about? It's not the first time I've asked that question, but it's the first time I've asked it related to footy.
I teach as well as write, and I LOVE footy. I've been at schools where AFL footballers have run clinics for primary school kids, and as much as it pains me to say it as the players were from Geelong, the guys have been amazing with the kids - boys and girls.
The players were positive, approachable, inspiring and encouraging, and I've raved to people about their attitude and efforts. They even accepted the kids' attempts at humour (not mine!) in good grace. I can't speak highly enough of the experience for kids and the impact it had on them.
Can I please stop now, as I really can't handle praising Geelong.
My point is, Peter Costello is WRONG. Sure, some AFL players aren't great role models, but there are others who do incredible work.
Harry O'Brien, Nick Maxwell, Daisy Thomas. Yes, they are Collingwood players and I know many other players do great things, I only pay attention to the Pies. Tragic, but there it is!
When run well, footy clinics have a lasting impact on kids and so too does a positive experience with a player.
When I was about 13, I approached my then hero for an autograph after a country practise match. I was polite, though nervous. He'd had an ordinary game and brushed me aside with a wave of his hand. I was devastated. Stan Magro - gotta love Stan - and Renee Kink -Kinky! - came to my rescue and made a fuss of me, signing autographs and chatting. I've never forgotten them for that. As for that hero...let's just say he was demoted from my duffle coat and bedroom wall!
A few years ago, my daughter approached Daisy Thomas at the end of his first season. (Okay, so I approached on her behalf, because she was too scared)  Dale was incredible with her - warm, chatty, delightful. I've dined out on that story .
So Mr Costello, sure some AFL players, like the rest of society, stuff up, but many of them do fantastic work, particularly with kids in schools.

They're following me...

Had a lovely weekend in Melbourne with dear friends. Two days of meetings, parties, book shops, gorgeous food and laughs. What more could I ask for?
However, I suspect the spider take over bid has reached new heights...
At our motel, I stood outside our room and laughed. The irony of this piece of art was not lost on me.
And yes, I'd left my weapons at home.

Endless Battle.

I'm waging war. My weapons of choice- long handled web brush , gloves and sturdy shoes - for stomping!
Now I'm all for live and let live and I will try to move a huntsman outside rather than squish it, but daddy long legs and their webs drive me nuts.
I blame my mother.
Mum wears glasses and for as long as I can remember, insists she's unable to see the webs trailing from corners. It became my job as a kid to dispatch the webs and spiders. Being the earnest type, I've taken that role with me into adulthood.
So with not one, but two of those web brush thingys (one for outside and the other for inside - I take this very seriously!) I stalk the house and swish, squish and stomp, fortnightly.
HOWEVER at the minute, I'm doing it daily. Excessive? I think not!
The spider population is staging an all out take-over bid. As fast as I knock them down, they're back. And breeding if you don't mind!
My husband dismisses my angst with 'Spray them.'
Fine, except I hate the chemicals in the house.
Anyway stomping and swishing and squishing is much more satisfying, particularly when I'm mulling over a story.
So armed and dangerous, I'm off to do the rounds.

Weapon of choice...

The enemy!

Ooops!

We have a crazy cavoodle called Milly. She's the cleverest dog we've owned and that includes the dogs we had as kids. Milly is sweet, adores my husband above all others and is prone to fits of neuroses.
My husband has trained Milly well - she fetches, plays dead, walks at your heel, rolls, high fives etc. He also taught her table etiquette - well dog etiquette. Milly must sit, then wait until given the command 'eat' before she can eat. The command is usually issued after the food has been put away.
Simple system. Except...
This morning, I fed Milly. Told her to sit, and took the food back inside. I had a Dory moment and saw a shiny thing and became preoccupied.
When I returned to the kitchen, about half an hour later, and looked out the window, there was Milly, still sitting, staring at her breakfast.
Ooops! I forgot to say eat!
Clever dog, huh? Not so clever owner.
She's been allowed inside while I write today!

Reviews!

Two new Black Dog Books publications are reviewed in today's Herald Sun and Saturday Age.
The gorgeous Melissa Keil's picture book Rabbit's Year is described at 'sweet' in the Herald Sun. Can't wait to read this one, it sure looks gorgeous.

 Violence 101, a young adult novel by Dennis Wright is also reviewed, but in The Age. Sounds like a ripping read and is another one to add to my bedside table asap!