Visiting the dentist has all the appeal of cleaning my daughters’ long, clagged hair out of the shower drain. I visit annually because it is the right thing to do. Each visit follows a predictable pattern. I arrive early at the clinic. I eagerly anticipate being able to read a National Geographic (I have allergies to sitting still doing nothing and like learning things) and ultimately am disappointed by the tattered ...
School holidays shared with my daughters ought to be a fun time. I have a notion that the week-long blocks of time I share with my daughters during school holidays should be blissful. Yet, day three into the week with my daughters, and I was terrified as my racing-harness chair tipped back enough for my stomach to spill into my mouth. I sensed my centre of gravity was about to topple ...
Dad’s log. Day 3 of our 8-day expedition of exploration… my crew of two settled excitedly into their temporary resort environment. Their sense of holiday time gives them cause to make the argument that five serves of vegetable and two of fruit does not apply. “But, Daa-aad… it’s holidays… we ought to be having fun!” is their reasoned argument against not tending to the standard chores. Somehow the crew have morphed ...
Parental alienation is a systemic plague infecting the family court system. Inoculating the courts against this would clear the emotional quagmire brought on by The Court of Emotion’s atrocious toxic waiting queue in a matter of months. Not only this, the disproportionately high suicide rate among men, as well as domestic violence numbers, would likely nosedive across the board. Defusing the manipulative device, instead of downplaying its effects, can go a ...
I hold a lofty ideal for my daughters. Lofty and simple. I want them to be sure in believing that they are wholesome people of value, who can tend generously to others and themselves. If I am doing well as a mindful dad, then I am setting my daughters up to be caring companions to friend, family and foreigner. As they develop the skills to rely less on me and fend ...
Joe is a mate of mine. “Mate” hardly describes our connection, yet the sporadic contact belies a relationship that holds strong meaning for me. Joe is pretty much anonymous to most, but that is of his own making. He is humble at a time when indulgence and opulence seemed to be currency. For a long time, he struggled as an artisan. Other carpentry shops that ran slave labour gazumped the hand-crafted ...
I am more than a little miffed at Myer. Before I realised that I was watching an ad, the baited opening line invited, “Ever wonder where wonderful went?” and my drifting mind was hooked. I had been suckered into a wistful memory of the wonder of my own childhood. “When we were small, wonderful was everywhere.” In my world, it still is. My wonder is in taking pause when my Year ...
As a kid, an atlas could hold me entranced for hours. The individually coloured lands and crazy contortions of coastlines mesmerised me. My boyhood fascination for maps was revived last week as I arrived for dinner at Simon’s grandparents'. Simon and his pop were surveying a school atlas. Because I am not so modest with my adventures, I turned the conversation to how I had flown to the other side of ...
I match up as a handyman as Arnold Schwarzenegger would as a ballet dancer. For me, anything more complicated than stapling four pieces of paper is a project. It requires plans, an almighty amount of careful thought and concerted visualisation. Therefore, offering to build my daughter a robot costume for the Book Week parade a couple of years ago was both terrifying and exciting. The terrifying thought came of my own ...
My adult world is full of rich delights. I am gifted with hearty friends who circle their wagons of calm and joy around me from time to time. Close by is the great peace of an imposing mountain with the settling sheen of a pure white coat. I can gaze towards the tower of dolerite while the nearby waves shush my racing headspace. My grown-up place features work that is rewarding, ...
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