I'm the first to admit that I'm quite child like. I get excited by the idea of finger painting, the knowledge that colouring within the lines is purely optional and that penguins can be any colour I want.

I bought some grape hyacinths last year. They reminded me of my Nan's tangled garden.

At the moment I'm struggling not to place my fingers on the stem and run them up and down, pulling all the flowers off. It's what I used to do in Nan's garden. I'm trying to prove that I've grown up.


Because in reality I can't go past one of these....

without having a go. I tend to skip along streets, hop over lines on the pavement and attempt to jump a lot of things. Even if someone is watching. I sing in the supermarket to that bad 80's pop music they have (is it meant to make us buy more?) and I talk to myself. A lot.

My grandparents lived in northern NSW and they had the most amazing mulberry tree. Visiting them meant, among other things, eating the lush fruit.

My sister lives in a small country town. In an empty paddock nearby there is a huge old mulberry tree. If I time my visit correctly, we tend to wander in the paddock and pick the fruit.

Hmmm... stewed mulberries, mulberry jam, mulberry muffins. And yes some of the fruit is picked...the rest...mulberry fight.

(my nephew Ryan, niece Danielle, sister Karen and my daughter Lauren)

Don't get me wrong. I think there's nothing wrong in being a bit child like. It helps me in my job, and in my writing. Which is all good.

Talking of children's writing, gotta love CAL. I just received a nice sum for this book published quite a few years ago.

So I think I'll avoid growing up fully. Just yet.

Who knows where it will lead....


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