If there’s a book you really want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it

—Toni Morrison

I am cruelly wrenched from my Saturday morning lie-in and jet-lag recovery by the infuriating buzz and whine of a leaf blower. When will a caped crusader free Sydney of this scourge?

With the persistence of a blowfly of prehistoric proportions the drone continues pulsing and reverberating, seemingly getting nearer and nearer. I stumble out of bed to see if this person is doing our street any good.

Petrol fumes from this infernal menace are drifting in through my...

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Hey babe, are you back already? Why aren’t you snoozing off your jetlag?’

‘I’m not too bad, actually. I reckon I’ve got till mid afternoon before I’ll need starch for my eyelids. Thanks for looking after stuff for me: the plants all seem to be clinging onto life and the pile of mail looks utterly frightening.’

‘Yeah. You sure have a large fan club. You’ll see I left you some spag bol in the fridge and there’s also a new carton of soy.’

‘Aww, Stace. You’re the...

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My bleary red eyes have picked up the searing natural light creeping under the window flaps. We are on the downhill run now. There is stirring and movement and a frisson of anticipation as breakfast is served and people peer eagerly out of their windows for their first sight of Sydney. I have not seen my home for two whole months.

For this homesick Aussie there is nothing like swooping in over our shimmering harbour city.  Her décolletage of dark craggy coves, speckled...

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© 2012 Alicia Thompson
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