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Picture this, a courtroom somewhere in France in the early 16th century. A sharpwitted lawyer struts across the floor, waving his hand nonchalantly in the air as he eloquently champions the defence of his client.
This time eleven years ago, my life had some level of normality to it, but little did I know that was all about to go squealing out the window with the arrival of one adorable, handsome, dashing, debonair pink pig.
Fond are the memories of my school days, peppered with exciting adventures and fuelled by a love of learning that remains with me today.
The sun shone brightly on Edgar’s Mission on Sunday February 9th, 2014 as our regular volunteer day swung into top gear.
Although I have never tasted watermelon wine and having children has not been on my radar, I have had the good fortune to share my life with several old dogs and so, I can wholeheartedly attest to their worthy inclusion in Tom T Hall’s list of the three most worthwhile things in life.
‘Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind’. It is minutes to midnight on Tuesday 31st of December 2013 and where am I? Sitting on my bathroom floor, willing a tiny lamb to live and caressing a pitifully thin kid goat.
As Christmas carols begin to fill supermarket aisles, colourful decorations are dusted off and festive celebrations are planned, it’s that time of year when I fondly recall my favourite childhood Christmas memories.
Have you ever thought about what it means to be Australian? As someone who was born and raised in this country, it has pretty much been something I have never really considered all too much. Until recently.
I have learned many things from working with pigs; they are indeed among the smartest animals around and they are indeed among the most sensitive. As a result, when pigs become frightened or scared they will panic and quickly whip themselves up into a feverish frenzy.
While September 7th 2013 stands as an important date on our political landscape with Australians going to the polls to determine which party will govern our fair country, many do not realise that we are already voting, each and every day of our lives.
“Tiny, she’s shiny. She looks so neat above her feet we call her Tiny shiny.” That was the little rhyme my parents had made up for a sweet little grey and white tabby cat that held centre stage in my earliest years.
When I was in grade one my teacher’s name was Miss Fit, no that’s not a joke. In fact it took me some years to realise the irony despite my dad always interjecting with the words ‘is she?’ whenever I mentioned her name.
