Fri 19 Mar 1999 – Queensland (for Aunty Tia’s 50th) Today I give thanks; That I truly understood and felt my mothers’ need for and lack of self esteem For my little girl with her sweet heart and good manners For identifying my need to learn patience That I miss Barry Sat 20 Mar 1999 – Queensland Today I give thanks; For being able to … Continue reading Grains of thanks – small, important things.
S’s Gratitude Journal I spent the entire day with J (Brady spent the day with Mum). I remember it so clearly, we laughed all the way around the city. He took me on a tour of all his daily haunts. We giggled at my win at the Casino. We bought crystals and little boxes of spells in a shop called Spellbox (I wrote that it … Continue reading 1,827 days.
12-14 March 1999 J grudgingly agreed to come with Brady and I down to our Grandparents house, with our Father. As you will have established by now our Father is a narcissistic, misogynist. The archetypal Aussie Male Baby Boomer – loves fishin’, huntin’, drinkin’ and screwin’. This entailed a four hour car drive (each way) listening to him bleet on about himself and how much he … Continue reading Oh the things we did to keep our Father happy.
March 1999 Brady and I flew to Australia for a holiday and to celebrate my Aunty Tia’s (my mothers only sister) 50th birthday. We stayed in Melbourne with my Mum and Winky, and we all flew to Queensland for the big birthday party, it was a lovely time. It was warm, there was swimming, family, memories shared and made, lots of laughter – my Aunty … Continue reading Gratitude for something I wrote down 17 years ago.
Friday, 24 May 1996 8:24am Dear S, I thought I’d open this one traditionally, with a ‘Dear…’ Haven’t done anything since yesterday. The traffic of books through my Flemington abode is about all I’m up to these days. Finished the Truman Capote (I really like the name Truman) last night. Finished an Agatha Christie (The Pale Horse). Started Alice Walker’s Possessing the Secret of Joy … Continue reading We call him Nuff Nuff because whenever he’s near you, all you want to shout is ‘Enough! Enough!’
deadmansdiaries.com 