She always served herself the crust; that flimsy last piece of the loaf, thinned at the edges, a hole poked through the middle from roughhousing. She watched her children tear into the warm abundant toast, crumbs spluttering from their tiny chewing mouths, eating from the inside out, nothing but the firm edges that once framed their breakfast left lying on the plate; the crust. Meanwhile her piece disintegrated before even reaching her tongue, dry remnants replicating the same sustenance as last nights sleep.


Pirate Treasure

We watched Mermaids on the horizon; shimmers of scales lifted by the light of the sunrise. We whispered wishes to each other, sailed them out to sea on the seam of a breeze, new treasures for our kin to keep safe. The sun met the blue and tails became ripples, our wishes adding gold to the horizon.



This week I start my journey as a part time university student. I say part time so that no one is under any impression that I’ve got four arms, four eyes, a nanny or even that amazing time travel device, the Time –turner, that Hermione is gifted in Harry Potter. I am still an Anthropoid, a higher primate, but not the good one, just the human one; two eyes, two arms, two legs, no nanny, no time turner and only one “full” day to study.  I use the term “full” loosely as I do not spend my study day alone. My day starts with taking my toddler to daycare where after seven days since his last daycare day, is in much need of friends his own age that don’t cringe every time he says, “wee wee, poo poo, bum bum”, five thousand times a day (insert eye roll here). I then grab my weekly coffee and go home to settle my baby girl in for her morning nap and prepare my study space…the kitchen table. At best I will be able to study for approximately eight hours, which is only two thirds of the recommended study time. Luckily for me, my baby girl and her peaceful disposition allow me as much time as they possibly can in between feeding, playing, cuddling and nappy changes. Thankfully I’ve no interest in the sciences, mathematics, economics or any other subject that requires the type of brain capacity that I’m pretty sure my children have stolen from me. I’m fortunate enough to have the opportunity to study something simply for the fun of it and not because I need to build a required skill set for any particular job; for this I am grateful. I’ve been that person, studying to work towards better jobs or positions and I never ever enjoyed it. But that’s just me.

However, today is the day before study day; some people might even call it Monday. Being a studying stay at home mum (that’s a mouthful) means conducting a suitable enough general tidy of the whole house so that nothing, not even something as tempting as dirty dishes can lead to procrastination, and procrastination just loves to sink its teeth into the time of every wannabe writer.

Nevertheless I’ve taken time out from said tidy up to have a nice long shower, wash my hair, apply a hydrating face mask and write while the baby sleeps and the toddler is gifted the wonderful Ipad to babysit him.

Tomorrow, I may still be bitten ever so slightly by procrastination but at least my hair will smell nice and my skin won’t be thirsty.

Fly In My Wine will be along for the journey, as it remains my creative space and an outlet for the musings and mumblings of every day life. No doubt the creative juices will be flowing as I try to blend into the creative community with the other Bachelor of the Arts students, disguised of course as a writer.

Here we go.


A Mothers Hope

She hopes he will be a free spirit, without jumping from airplanes or bridges.

She hopes he will always be on the side with greener grass.

She hopes he will have big expectations…of being kind.

She hopes he will be a little messy in the confines of the lines.

She hopes he will zigzag along the straight and narrow.

She hopes he will push when it says to pull, just because it is funny.

She hopes he will not take himself too seriously unless he is being serious.

She hopes he will love outside himself, for himself and with his whole self.

She hopes he will walk tall when people speak short.

Most of all…she hopes…against hope…that he will be happy.

Milk And Wine


She bathed in milk and rose petals,

Drank wine in a long stemmed glass.

She washed away the frustrations of motherhood,

Sipping wine to fuel and armour herself for the week ahead.


It was a joint effort.