Last month, I was marvelling at one of our fruiting shrubs unfurling with its seasonal buds. Its dainty flowers, the colour of purple candy, bear fruit that tastes like rockmelon. We always fail in our attempts to grow rockmelon in Melbourne, so this surrogate fruit has become a surprise member of our family.
I’ve been freelance writing in a part time capacity for fourteen years. Still, the idea of turning my business into a fulltime venture has been daunting to say the least. Add to that – uncomfortable, nail-biting and then there was that eerie dream about a blood red moon (interpretation: I’m either going to die a violent death soon or resolve a current issue).