Tuesday, May 17, 2022

Margaret Vazey


‘Straggly trees’

Straggly trees ...

‘The Waiting Room with Monet’

I don’t need pen and paper ...

No Friend but the Mountains

Read this book and weep!

Book – Secrets of a Waterloo Baker

The story about a family of migrants from Latvia, and how the district of Waterloo not only became their home, but contributed to the quality and flavour of their bread.

Meditation on Sorry Day

As a nation we need forgiveness for all the wrong things done, both officially and privately.

Book Review – The Short and Excruciatingly Embarrassing Reign of Captain Abbott

No matter which side of the political spectrum you may happen to be, it is a cringe-worthy account of economic mismanagement, environmental ignorance, and...

Book Review: All the Light We Cannot See

Anthony Doerr has given us the gift of a great and moral tale set before and during the Second World War.

Book Review: Go Set a Watchman

The publication of Harper Lee’s first book has caused a stir in the publishing world.

Book Review: A Life and Death Conversation with Ali

This thoughtful book is both a memoir, which celebrates Dorothy’s years with her beloved partner Ali, and a record of their journey through the last 18 months of Ali’s life, after Ali had received a diagnosis of a fatal brain cancer.

Book Review:Deranged Marriage – A Memoir

Read this book to cry and laugh about the getting of wisdom of a young woman: born in India, arriving in England as a very young baby, going to school and growing up in London, going to university in Hertford.

Book Review:Dark Night – Walking with McCahon

Why would Sydneysiders want to read a book about Colin McCahon, who died in 1987? In 1984, Colin McCahon and his wife were in Sydney, to celebrate a small retrospective of his work at the Power Institute (University of Sydney). It was during this time that McCahon became lost, confused and went missing. His wife and friends found him, 28 hours later, in St Vincent’s Hospital. The police had picked him up in Centennial Park in the small hours of the morning. This was probably the first dramatic sign of the illness that eventually claimed the life of this great New Zealand artist.