Girls Are Loud.

Dear ‘Dactyl (daughter). Loud. That’s what the midwife said when you first popped out. So loud, apparently, the maternity ward hadn’t heard a newborn yodel like it in months. I refused to put a label on you – so soon – however, after your brother started to say, “Girls are loud, aren’t they?” your Father … More Girls Are Loud.

City City Bang Bang

Dear Shaun Apparently, you can get a gun quicker than a book out of the library, in some US states. Everyone we know here – all five friends – have told us to get a handgun, for protection. After a visit at 2am from a carload of drunken rednecks (down our 8 mile windy driveway) … More City City Bang Bang

True Bliss.

Dear Tracy Broken, according to Ruth the gardener, is the state of many who first come here. ‘Camp heals people,’ she mused, alarming me. You’ve known me longer than any other friend – I don’t need fixing do I? Oh, the heels of my feet resemble dried mangos and the Dimple has a gammy knee … More True Bliss.

Butter Fingers.

Dear Dad You made me believe I was good at mathematics and chemistry. Academically, you convinced me I could achieve anything, thank you. Great job. However, there’s one area where you failed – you didn’t tether me to a field and force me to play sport. I’m about as agile as a footstool; my arms … More Butter Fingers.

Swallowing It. 

Dear Justine. The Virgo in you wouldn’t like the distance required – one hour over a dusty, windy road – to get fresh supplies; I know how you are about expiry dates. Fortunately, the Gemini in me likes to dabble in the-day-after-the-deadline to get my kicks. Plus I know if I get sick there will … More Swallowing It. 

Not Guilty.

Dear Olivia Remember when we were in Zambia and became obsessed with helping the street kids? We felt guilty about our safe, warm, upbringings in lovely houses. Guilt, I’ve always thought, has been a driving force behind philanthropic behaviour. Rich cats shed cash to charities and relieve themselves of a few kilos of greedy guilt. … More Not Guilty.

What Paradise?

Dear Carmel My favourite children’s book at the moment is Piggety Wiggety Jiggety Jig by Diana Neild. Terrible title, but great rhyme, and there is a line at the beginning about, ‘His Mum very proudly looked after their nine (piglets) and would finish the day with a small glass of wine.’ Every time I read … More What Paradise?