We meet for breakfast. I pour tea from the cat teapot that Moley gave Mum. I don’t strain the tea and Mum says, in general, people don’t like tea leaves. She says it is good to be busy. I tell her Leo, my old boyfriend in Melbourne, used to call me Mrs Busy, but not in a positive way. He sent me a video to the tune of Windmills of Your Mind  with Miss Piggy (ak a me) going round and round in a wheel like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel, never ending or begin

Mum pops in at 7:25. She is bright in herself, although she’s still wearing the yellow creamy-green housecoat, which prevents radiance from shining beneath her skin like a weed mat. She is on a mission this morning, and there is a scent of purpose in the air — like Bella catching a whiff of a duck. Mum’s duck is the garage. “Today Cathy and I will clean the garage and vacuum the storeroom,” she announces. I think of Cathy, her laborious breathing, and the antique vacuum clean

Last night I noticed Mum’s voice getting a bit hoarse, but when she comes into my room at 8:10 she seems cheery. I can tell immediately how she is. Her face can be quite drawn. She has had two links removed from her watch and it is still loose. She’s wearing her little house coat with flowers — it’s creamy yellow, which would wash anyone’s face out; it’s a sort of old toenail colour. “I will wash the strawberries and raspberries,” she announces. She has the paper tucked under

Container ships come and go as idle as a ship upon a painted ocean – E. Duncan. You can just see the outline of the container ships in the grey mist as they begin their long voyage across the seas laden with milk, butter, and frozen bovine meat. There are floods in Coromandel, Gisborne, and in California, and I wonder if we might have to commandeer Moo Hefner’s large wooden boat, but I doubt he’d let two of every species on, as he is not in the slightest bit interested in sav

The grey pencil is finally blunt, and a bright yellow one scribbles its glory across the heavens — but this does not stop my getting up to mischief. I send Moo Hefner a text saying it’s nice to have spent the best part of my life dreaming and building a house for strange children. He replies, “I can see how that might irk.” He excuses the presence of strange children by saying the boyfriend of the mother of these children, Manfred, “gives me good assistance with the problems

I hear Mum rustling in the kitchen like a hedgehog, and when I go in she’s unpacking the dishwasher and looks tired. “Mum, I can tell you...

Maryse is coming to visit at 1. I walk into the kitchen chirpily, despite today signalling the end of tea and toast in bed. "I am pleased...

The world continues to be grim grey and the bird song is eerie, like an echoing guitar twang. At this point in the goings-on of the...

The white walls of my room extend into an infinite greyness that hovers outside; sulking. The country has been misty and flooding ever...

Today is a big day, as Mum and I are getting our hair done. Mum comes into my room, puts down my tea and toast, and then, alarmingly,...

I wake poised to sneeze, which is terrifying. I don’t have any stitches but seem to have been glued together, so I have a fear of...

Last night I became an insomniac with Jiminy Cricket reminding me of all the things I must put right and all the things I have done...

I wake up in the real world for the first time since I left Leigh on Boxing Day. I lie in a real bed and stare at the trees through the...

On New Year’s Day, I walk out of North Shore Hospital. I am feeling hesitant to leave my old-fashioned spaceship, where you can’t touch...

Round about, round about ’Lo and behold. Reel away, reel away Straw into gold Rumpelstiltskin Brothers Grimm...

The birds are singing the bees are buzzing the ants are working the ducks are quacking the leaves are crunching the trees are swaying the...

Two Christmases ago, I nearly died as adhesions tried to strangle my bowel. They tried again this Christmas, but these ones were phantom...

Fleur Adcock one of New Zealand’s greatest poets died at the end of last year (10 October 2024). She was my mother’s oldest friend and...

"The approach of Christmas brings harassment and dread to many excellent people. They have to buy a cartload of presents, and they never...

I was in the sauna at the Olympic pool on Wednesday with my 67-year-old friend Nina, who used to be a Chinese ballet dancer. She is still...