We’d planned a 3 day ‘plonk’ holiday on Kangaroo Island. You know, the kind of holiday where you book into some pleasant accommodation with great views and spend most of your time reading and gazing at the natural beauty of the spot. After a tranquil ferry trip to Penneshaw and a 45-minute drive to Kingscote,Continue reading “Anne McKenzie: Kangaroo Island”
Category Archives: Marie Brazier
Anne McKenzie: Lemon Meringue Pie
Guests for dinner, no worries. Barbecue followed by my go-to favourite dessert – lemon meringue pie. It’s a bit fiddly to make, involving three stages: pastry crust, lemon curd filling and meringue top — but it’s never let me down. Marie offers to help but I say I have it all under control. First, youContinue reading “Anne McKenzie: Lemon Meringue Pie”
Anne McKenzie: Noise
I’m at a Crows AFL game on a Saturday afternoon and it’s getting to me again. No, not the prospect of another lost game – although you never quite know with the Crows. It’s not the heat – we’re in the bleachers and the sun is baking down. It’s the noise. From the moment youContinue reading “Anne McKenzie: Noise”
Anne Mckenzie: Ghosts
‘Do you believe in ghosts, Anne?’ Jan says. We’ve just seen a rerun of the ‘Ghostbusters’ movie at our local theatre so it’s not a wholly unexpected segue. ‘You do?’ I say. ‘Well, not so much ghosts but rather spirits. Yes, I do. For instance, I believe my mother is still very much with meContinue reading “Anne Mckenzie: Ghosts”
Anne McKenzie: Scooter
Denise and I had been finger training our young pet budgerigar, Scooter, for several weeks. Now he stepped onto the proffered fingers quickly and confidently. Such is trust. And it was a thrill to feel his little warm feet gripping our outstretched fingers. But now the time had come to take him out of theContinue reading “Anne McKenzie: Scooter”
Anne McKenzie: Noodling
‘Noodling,’ not to be confused with canoodling, is a must on a visit to Coober Pedy. It involves fossicking on the mullock heaps for opal the original miners missed. Mind you, canoodling under those vast Outback desert night skies has its appeal too – but I had no taker! We’d done all the other touristContinue reading “Anne McKenzie: Noodling”
Anne McKenzie: A Few Drinks
‘I think I’ll just walk down to the local pub for a few drinks,’ he says, smiling and looking directly at me. We’ve just got back from the airport and we’re having a cup of tea at my home. It’s the first time I’ve seen them face to face for seven years, as they’ve beenContinue reading “Anne McKenzie: A Few Drinks”
Anne McKenzie: Skin Cancer
‘I’ve got the results of your biopsy and it’s an unusual result,’ he tells us. Marie and I look at one another, faces grim. I’ve been on this skin cancer journey long enough to know that ‘unusual’ is not good. It’s going to be as bad as ‘medically interesting’ was the last time. ‘So it’sContinue reading “Anne McKenzie: Skin Cancer”
Anne McKenzie: Just a Small Garden Project
‘I think we should’ve started this when we were 10 bloody years younger!’ she says, brandishing the sledgehammer and chisel she’s been using for hours to chip away at the bricked wall of the in-ground fishpond in the back yard. ‘You’re not wrong there,’ I say. ‘Clearly we built it to last. We’d have noContinue reading “Anne McKenzie: Just a Small Garden Project”
Anne McKenzie: Unbelievable
It’s a balmy evening the first night of our week in Port Elliott and it’s time for a beach walk. Denise and I cross the road from the unit where we are staying and head down the cliff. To reach the beach we have to first follow a narrow sloping dirt path, then go downContinue reading “Anne McKenzie: Unbelievable”
Anne McKenzie: On The Bus
‘The Department is a bus about to set out on a long journey, and I’m driving’, says our new Chief Executive Officer. We’re at mandatory leadership training for Supervisors and Managers—for middle management. She’s been with us for about two weeks and this is the first time we’ve met her. ‘Let me put this simply’,Continue reading “Anne McKenzie: On The Bus”
Anne McKenzie: Sylvia
Smiling faces beam at you from every wall, table top, mantelpiece and shelf in Sylvia’s home. In sepia tones, there’s Nina and Tony, her paternal grandparents, now deceased. Her father, Manny, with seventies hair, buttoned up in his wedding suit, Uncle Nico, his best man, at his side; in yellowed Kodachrome there’s her mother Maria,Continue reading “Anne McKenzie: Sylvia”
Anne McKenzie: Tom, Lesley and Lucy
‘Can’t the Judge see that the mother’s so brain damaged from being beaten by him and so scared she’ll say whatever he wants, including, as she’s just done, denying the abuse she and the children have suffered?’ ‘Apparently not.’ ‘The father’s lawyer’s got to know, got to know too that the mother should have aContinue reading “Anne McKenzie: Tom, Lesley and Lucy”
Anne McKenzie: Miguel
The suffering Christ sags heavily from his bronze cross above the altar. To his left his mother still weeps, her tears frozen in prisms of blood-red stained glass. They’ve both seen it all before—so many times. Miguel lies hidden in his adolescent-sized coffin. The father, Guido, is seated several rows in front of me. AllContinue reading “Anne McKenzie: Miguel”
Anne McKenzie: Last Chance Goodbye
‘I’m not going,’ she says as he walks in the door. He says nothing, just sits down at the kitchen table and picks up the newspaper lying there. ‘I told you on the phone I wasn’t going. I don’t know why you bothered coming over.’ She goes on cutting up the vegetables for the casserole.Continue reading “Anne McKenzie: Last Chance Goodbye”
Burnside Writers Group 