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Showing posts from September, 2014

Anna Quindlen

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Hi there, old friends and new! I'm finally back after a loooooong break (details of which I'll divulge gradually as I blog away here). Fair enough to say, I've missed blogging and I have lots of things to share with you. First cab off the rank is the author Anna Quindlen . I'm one of those non-impulsive people who has severe bursts of impulsivity at weird and infrequent times. The other day, while at my local library, I had a vibrant bursting impulsive moment and decided that since my regular authors were missing from the shelves, I'd choose a random novel by a random author. I picked up 'Every Last One' by Anna Quindlen. It sounded mysterious and thrilling, so I popped it in my borrowing pile and took it home. I was a bit nervous - I don't like reading authors I don't know much about because I try and protect my mind (and keep the fuel for my overactive imagination low!). The novel is a brilliant window into the life of an ordinary woma

Prose from The Australian Magazine

Absolute gold in this weekend's Australian Magazine in the comments section. I haven't read Phillip Adams original article that has drawn these responses, but knowing Adams' style - I can guess. Here's two clever responses to Adams, who had obviously taken poor Dorothea Mackellar's poem and rewrote sections to peddle his leftist agenda: 'I too love this bloody country Where all can make their mark Even tall poppy-knocking columnists With nought to say but nark. I too love this Liberal country With values free and strong Aspire, construct, develop, defend Not despair that all is wrong I too love this growing country And I am not alone All those who toil for wealth We too call Australia home. It's farmers, builders, miners, soldiers Who make this wide land great So Adam's leftie, green, weasel words Shove up your jumper, mate. David Brunt Sunshine Coast, QLD' 'I love this open country Where leftie ratbags roam Some earn