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London in the Sunshine
In the fifteen years I have been boomeranging back to London to see family and friends, never has that fleeting glimpse of summer the Brits get coincided so marvellously with my trip… until now. And London in the sunshine is just glorious. The kids and I had a ball with family. For the first time,…
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Falling in love with Perth
I’ve always been a little disparaging about Perth. Friends and family have moved here despite my rather derisive comments about how small and parochial it is. But during the last few days I have secretly fallen in love with Perth. I think it is the colour of the sea that has stolen my heart. But…
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A life mostly ordinary…
Weekends away… once upon a time the man of the house and I used to take them on a regular basis. At least once every six weeks we would be zipping up to The Hunter Valley or meandering around Jervis Bay. Because in those days we were a two income no kids family, we took plane…
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Wellington… with kids
It’s a little late, this travel piece on Wellington. I came home from New Zealand to an avalanche of real work (and when you are talking snow, work piling up in your own business is about the only place you want an avalanche) and am only now just raising my head above the parapet. But…
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Sort of skiing in Middle Earth
I have a friend who describes skiing as akin to being chased around an ice-box by a particularly ruthless burglar who steals all your money and bashes you black and blue. Two days in and wallet appreciably lighter, it is hard to find fault with this description. Certainly, as I wince my way down the…
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The not-so-joy of Motherhood
I don’t think I’ve quite got a grasp on this motherhood thing. Just when I think I’ve got it sorted, everything seems to change. Conceptually, it’s as slippery as an eel in a BP oil slick. I’ve realised recently there are a lot of things I hate about this motherhood lark. Hate is a strong…
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Oh to be in Paris…
I love my family dearly…but sometimes I imagine I live in a modern one bedroom apartment in Paris, with a type writer, all by myself. I imagine an early morning café au lait and croissant, and taking walks through winding cobble stoned streets to the nearby market to buy a baguette and cheese for lunch. …
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I am a soccer mom (also known as – Growing Up)
I am a soccer mom. See that woman standing on the edge of the field yelling at the kids. Turns out, that’s me. I know you’re not supposed to, and I hated it when my father did exactly the same thing, but I can’t seem to help myself. If I was playing, I am positive…
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Is forty really the new thirty?
They say that forty is the new thirty, but quite frankly, when you’ve had two children and a decade too many Lindt Balls, I don’t somehow think so. Certainly there is no way I could fit into the skin tight jeans I wore back in the days. And I am definitely a lot more saggy and…
Travel with Sharlene 