Every time a man smiles, – but much more so when he laughs, it adds something to this Fragment of Life

— Laurence Stern

@gracefatchen

Bicycles, banana plantations and dry rolling hills... After adventuring on the Equator, it's back to midwinter in Adelaide... Uganda 2026 📍Queen Elizabeth National Park, Uganda If Heaven is The Morning A real nice kind of autumn... FEATURING: It has been a long while since I posted a book review. I like to pick up a dramatic sort of classic once the cold weather sets in (usually something set on the moors!) and as the brisk winds began to blow, and the leaves began to curl, I heard Blackmore's 'Lorna Doone' calling my name. So I did the next sensible thing - I listened and I read and I discovered how daring, witty and adventursome 'Lorna Doone' really is... The death of a King

Latest Posts

  • EVERYWHERE THE JOYFUL

    A collection of stories and poetry about my recent trip to Uganda…     Free Bicycles, banana plantations and dry rolling hills; matoke, stew, sodas at the end of a long, hot day. A swallow darts around on the ceiling, coming… Continue reading

    EVERYWHERE THE JOYFUL

  • BOOK REVIEW: LORNA DOONE

    Lorna Doone is an incredibly original, exciting and touchingly witty romance. I found the story unexpectedly fresh since it hasn’t been done to death in school curriculums and on the screen. It holds all the charm of a knight-in-shining armour… Continue reading

    BOOK REVIEW: LORNA DOONE

  • UP THE CREEK WITHOUT A PADDLE

    Inspired by a family trip up the Murray on a houseboat We kept a ‘ships log’ just for a joke. It listed departure times, and how many kilometres we were along the river. Occasionally, the deckhands would make observations about… Continue reading

    UP THE CREEK WITHOUT A PADDLE

  • A PREMONITION

    I hear the drums of war a-beating  Upon these Southern shores,  A sound this country once knew well  And shall know again once more.  Ushered in by Providence  Or captured by Fate  The drums of war are banging  At the sliprails, at the gate.   At… Continue reading

    A PREMONITION

  • THE WAY HOME

    Born in the south, how could she leave it? That land of sunshine and wattle bloom, where the dusty summer evenings scented the world ruddy?  Lifting his nose westward, he sniffed at the breezes – dry wheat, dust, rotten sunshine – such scents he caught… Continue reading

    THE WAY HOME

book reviews I poetry i fiction i essays

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