I am a writer and coordinate the Mordialloc Writers’ Group. I have set up this blog to interact with writers and friends and promote the group’s anthologies and my own writing. I write poetry, short stories, short plays, fiction and non-fiction, memoir and creative nonfiction. Although teaching creative writing for 15 years, I am as passionate about social justice and equity as I am about writing.

One writes out of only one thing—one’s own experience. Everything depends on how relentlessly one forces from this experience the last drop, sweet or bitter, it can possibly give.

James Baldwin

Mordialloc has been my home for 31 years, but I can’t shake off Scotland, my birthplace, or the years growing up ‘in the bush’ at Croydon, Victoria where we settled in 1962. The first nine years of my life were spent in semi-rural Scotland on the edge of Greenock, a shipbuilding town on the banks of the River Clyde.  Years spent travelling in the UK, Canada, USA, China, Europe, Japan, the Pacific Islands, New Zealand and Australia, imprinted firmly in memory.

I write about it all – the minutiae and the big picture.

Beach Road shadows the foreshore and in the summer is jammed with cars, motorbikes, and bicycles. The blare of car horns and occasional angry words punctuate the normal traffic din as people journey to and from the city and the peninsula seeking fun of warmer weather.

The walking trail becomes crowded and sometimes dangerous with family cyclists, dog walkers, joggers, parents pushing strollers, keep fit enthusiasts and tourists ambling the track to soak up the beauty of Port Phillip Bay.

For many locals, including me, the beach on a very hot day must be avoided; instead the evening a favourite time to walk the foreshore, or cooler weather, when a winter breeze chills the air and spasmodic rain enlivens the scent of tea-tree, eucalyptus, and banksias.

In cooler months, the population of Mordialloc returns to normal levels, the sand, pier and promenade dotted with only a handful of people – mostly dog walkers tracing their path along the water edge, keep fit fanatics, or tourists visiting locals.

Ah the beach: being rocked in the slight waves, walking and getting soaked to the edge of your knickers by an expectedly deep wave splashing around your ankles. In awe, you watch a sunset stain pink the sand, grass, even the seagulls.

Serendipitously running into friends who happen to park directly behind where you’re sitting or are following the same path as you are as you stride or stroll along the foreshore.

You catch up with local news, celebrate a special anniversary, perhaps share a dinner or cool drink at one of the many local cafes. Lots of lovely hugs and laughter and reliving special memory days.

Life can be unexpectedly kind and beautiful, just when you need it most.

4 thoughts on “About

  1. We lived at Dumfrocker Rd – at least that’s the address I remember. We moved to W.A. for a few years, then I moved to Tasmania and then to Sydney where I married in the late 80’s. I’ve been here with husband & children since then and haven’t yet made it back to Scotland. have you been back?


    1. I was born in George Square and then we moved to Davaar Road Braeside, emigrated to Croydon Victoria in 1962. (I’ve written quite a few blog posts about living in Scotland and Australia because I teach Life Stories.) I dropped out of uni in the 70s and went back for a year, came back here returned to uni and then left again for another year, taking a job as an au pair in Canada the second time before coming back to Australia. My husband and I did a big trip for a couple of months in 1984 (Japan, Europe, UK and America), took our daughters back there in 1992 and 1997. John died in 2002 and I am planning to return to Scotland this year. Haven’t got the nuts and bolts sorted but I arrive London April 25th. Your Dad probably did what my dad did – chased money for the family (there were 6 of us to feed) except Dad was lucky to find jobs in the same area plus he had his sister here and that made a big difference. I had a quick look at your blog and I see you homeschool – I used to do creative writing workshops for homeschoolers because several friends homeschooled. You will have a very rich, busy day!! When we left in 1962 it was ‘dirty old Greenock’ – not so now. My daughters fell in love with the place when we returned and my oldest daughter was back there two years ago and loved Scotland, especially Glasgow and Skye.I know it will be an emotional trip for me – the immigrant’s story – you always feel like an uprooted tree. Have a wonderful day:)


  2. I stumbled upon your blog & was so thrilled to find you were from Greenock. I spent the first 8 years of my life there and we came to Australia when my Dad got work with BHP in Whyalla, S.A. I don’t think Scotland ever gets out if your blood.


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