My Degree and My Muse(s)


monster tree

Writing is not my “thing” at the moment. However, I wrote so much this week that I used up a whole pen. A new pen actually ran out of ink! I usually lose them first. It sounds contradictory, I know, but I’m studying at the moment, studying Psychology. As with many subjects we embark on, it is a can of worms. You (me) may think you know something, but as soon as the education starts, you are reduced to realising how little you know, and how much there is to learn. That’s not a bad thing.

Since I started studying….and stopped writing on my blog, I have done fairly well. Mostly Distinctions, but I did almost fail statistics. In my defence, I had taken on too many subjects. Studying Psychology, you can’t afford to fail Statistics. I actually didn’t realise this when I embarked on this degree. I imagined helping people create a good life through adversityy, that’s what I want to do. I’m actually an Accountant and don’t have any difficulty with stats so I guess I just was complacent.

Anyway, in the time that we haven’t spoken, I did get an award from the Dean of Swinburne University of Technology, “To recognise your excellent performance in Media Studies”. It’s on my wall, and I have left space for more.

So, I may have used up my pen, but pencils and pastels have become the medium of my “muse”, so I thought I should post a couple of pictures that I have recently done. I now go to a 2 hour art class on a Monday. It’s like the “ever-lasting-gobstopper” and seems to keep me inspired until the next week. I’m really enjoying finding a part of myself that hasn’t truly been explored before and appreciate the input of my art teacher, Claire Sunderland, infinitely.





think and speak love

Think love and Speak love


My Heart Weeps

My Heart Weeps




A while ago I had a crazy dream…just crazy enough to appeal to this amazing artist at Happi Anarchy to bring to life. In my original email to Mia.S, I said that I would like to invent a ‘dream camera’. In the interim, this is as close as it gets!

Ok so here it is. My dream.

My father grew up on a farm and as children, we were lucky enough to go there on holidays where we rode horses, swam in the river, rode around on tractors and explored the old farm buildings at the top of the hill.

In my dream, an old wooden shack had appeared from nowhere. It was nestled in between the old barn where the disused Clydesdale harnesses hung, and the old dairy which had since been turned into a piggery.

I was living on the farm and had allowed an old man to move into this rustic little building. He was alone and lonely, and somewhat gruff. One day, I decided to visit and invite myself in for a cup of tea. I knocked on the old wood paling door and listened for his booted footsteps. After a while the door creaked opened and there he appeared; hat tilted down over his face and casting a shadow over his unwelcoming visage. Smoke poured out from around his dusty, suited shoulders and poured out the door.

Knowing that he wasn’t permitted to smoke in the house, he gruffly announced, “The mice are smoking again”. I was surprised at his outlandish lie; obviously it was him that was smoking. Seeing the disbelief on my face, the old man stepped to the side to give me a view, and there gathered behind him were what seemed like hundreds of mice. All were balanced on their back legs and each held a lit cigarette between their 1st and 2nd claws. A hundred thin trails of smoke rose straight up to the ceiling, where they wavered, then combined to make a swirling smoky cloud. The man looked at me with a stern eye, as if to prove his point.

The old man casually swung the door open further. A small gas lamp sat on a low table, generating a soft yellow light. At its edges, I strained my eyes to see, and as they adjusted I could make out the bodies of mice lounging on every available surface; the arms of lounge chairs, the hearth, the table.

The old man had told no lie, the mice were smoking again.

It has taken me a few days to write this as I was trying to work out how it could be drawn. The initial perspective of looking through the door is too narrow to capture the mice fanned out behind the old man. Then, after that, there is the perspective of the mice in the room with the light. After much consideration, I think this would be done best as a series of three pictures. The colours in my dreams were dark and natural woods but with the highlight of the light behind the man, the smoke and the mice.

These are my thoughts….but I am very interested in yours. Would you be up to it? I’m sure if you are able you would do it justice. I would just love to see my bizarre dream in art form.

One day, I’m going to invent a dream camera. How cool would that be!!

Looking very much forward to hearing your thoughts Mia.


Hello Everyone…it has been a long time!


Just a quick note to everyone.

My life has changed a lot in the last year. Firstly I went back to work in my old job as a Financial Accountant for 6 months. Sadly, circumstances changedImage after 6 months with the lovely Director that rehired me becoming gravely ill. It was never going to work anyway as my superior never liked me anyway. It was a very difficult situation.

Anyway, all for the better, I am now studying  for a Degree in Psychology and have moved to my dream home (except for the fact that I don’t own it). I now have 8 chickens, a rooster, a drake and a duck. my boys love the space we have here and it is amazing that in the middle of suburbia, we are living in this piece of heaven.

My oldest son just celebrated his 15th birthday, and I built him a massive slide in the back paddock. We also set up a tent for all of his friends to stay in for the night, and Liam had his first go with the “whipper snipper” to clear a space for a bon fire.

It was an awesome day and night and then another day with a really wonderful group of teenagers. xxxImage

An Email Exchange about the Sandy Hook Shooting


From: Jiltaroo <>


A Monster in my Tree


holeAt the end of the garden there’s a hole in my tree,

One time I walked there, just courage and me.

It’s dark and it’s scary, I wonder what’s there,

A hundred spiders and bugs every where.

I scratched in the dirt and leaves on the ground,

And hardly believe what my toys and I found.

A well trodden path leads to the mouth of the cave,

I take a deep breath and try to be brave.

With hands on my knees and neck stretched out low,

I smell fungus and leaves, and damp things that grow.

There’s a horrible sound, it scares me a lot,

I look in my hands to see what I’ve got.

I throw Action Man in and Spiderman too,

Then pull down my pants and go to the loo.

I put my face to the hole and look in the tree,lookingin

My toys are gone, my hands are now free.

I push away cobwebs and long stems of grass,

Can’t wait to tell this to all of my class.

I know I will see something, ugly and bad,

Very angry and hairy, a bit like my Dad,

I let out my breath and pick up a stick,

I’m so frightened and shaking, it makes me feel sick.

I give the monster a poke, it lets out a cackle,

I get ready to grab it and give it a tackle.

I touch something smooth and a little bit soft,

I’m not sure but I think, I heard the thing cough.

A cackle, a crow, and a flurry of feathers,

It’s in there for sure, away from the weather.

The monster it’s gone, my grab gets thin air,

But I see something else, hiding in there.

Some leaves and some grass, all soft like a bed,

And nestled inside, a warm speckled egg.

nest in tree


I didn’t see the news last night. Ironically, I was at my son’s grade 6 graduation when this happened. I feel sickened and so sad (to tears) that the parents of these darling children will not get to experience what I did last night. This loss is agonizing and senseless. My heart goes out to all that are affected. Jen

Robin Coyle

Today’s tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary School as left me feeling legless.

Are you like me and want to help the families of the victims of today’s senseless shooting rampage, but don’t know what to do? I want to give each of them a hug, and while not a religious person, I want to say a prayer on bended knee with them.

Our friend, Paula Action, shared the school address with me. While far short from a comforting hug or shoulder to lean on, sending a card or letter expressing our sorrow, support, and condolences is at least something. The nation mourns alongside the community. Knowing that we do might help them a bit. As Paula suggested, writing a note would be a lovely thing to do with the family tonight. Excellent idea, Paula. Oh, and pass the word to your friends and family.

The school’s address is:


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Secret Santa Strikes Again!

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Just 4 months ago, I entered the blogging world. I had no idea what it had to offer, I thought I was just writing my little old memoir for me really. I had no concept of the incredible and varied blogs there were on offer, the friends I would make, the discussions I would have and……Secret Santa? The girls that have organised this, Emily (from the Waiting) and Ashley (from ashleyetc) have worked hard to put this together for over 60 bloggers. Many of these present givers I already know and visit their blogs regularly, but some I haven’t met yet. I will enjoy getting to these new bloggers. If this is a new “pool” of bloggers for you, I can guarantee that you will be blown away by this concentrated talent. Don’t be shy, come and have a look at our gifts and while you’re there introduce yourself to some new friends. I can assure you, you will get a very warm welcome from each and every one.

The Waiting

christmas-badgeI could write an introduction, but who would read it?

No one. Because…..

THIS IS THE PRESENTS POST! Goodies for all! Remember that Ashley and I invite you to write your own Festivus-inspired post on your blog. You can drop hints on who you gifted, muse over who gave you your gift, or air your grievances about anything! Just let me know if you write a post so I can link to it on my Facebook page*.

*And what the what? You haven’t “liked” The Waiting on Facebook yet? Get with it, homes.

Secret Santas will be unveiled right here on Friday, December 21.

Now, let’s get right down to it.


1. Gift for & Squatch Makes Three:

Season tickets for the SF Giants and a proper brick pizza oven so Squatch can sample the exquisiteness of his father’s deep-dish pies as they were meant to be.

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