shear nostalgia

In my early 20s, I used to get my hair cut in someone’s garage. For just $14, I’d get a wash, cut, and blow-dry. It was an absolute steal, and he always did a great job.

I stopped going about 18 years ago, but last week I happened to park outside his place and wondered if he was still in business. Feeling a little nostalgic, I decided to knock on the door. Sure enough, he was still there, still cutting hair..

So I booked in for old times’ sake. Same garage. Same guy. Same no-frills setup. The only noticeable differences were that I had picked up a few more silver strands, and his English had levelled up over the years. The same package now costs $30, which, considering it’s been nearly two decades, is still a pretty impressive bargain.

porcelain princess

Few things matter to me more than a clean toilet. It sounds like a bizarre hill to die on, but a spotless bathroom improves my day more often than most people realise. Even when I’m planning a holiday, one of my first thoughts is what the toilet situation will be like. Is the water level too high? Too shallow? After travelling to plenty of countries, I can confidently say Australia has perfected the toilet water level.

I avoid public toilets whenever I can. My home toilet has blue water that foams when I flush, almost like it’s giving the bowl a little bath after every use.

Sometimes I joke that if my husband ever dies, I’m not remarrying. Not because I couldn’t love someone else, but because I don’t know how I’d explain all of this to a new person. Imagine telling someone early in a relationship, “By the way, I have toilet issues, I can’t share a toilet, and I need my own bathroom.” Somehow that feels like a much bigger hurdle than finding love again.

It probably sounds ridiculous to most people, but having someone who understands these oddly specific toilet anxieties makes a bigger difference than you’d think. Especially someone who appreciates that the right toilet water level and a little blue foam aren’t preferences, they’re basic human needs.

iron sharpens iron

I’m so proud of my eldest daughter for being invited to join the Maths and Science Olympiads at school. Only six students from each year were chosen, and what makes it even more special is that three of her closest friends were also invited. She is surrounded by studious, curious, like-minded peers, the kind of circle where iron sharpens iron.

They are such a positive influence on one another, encouraging each other to work hard, stay focused, and grow together. Like a small constellation, each one twinkles brightly, but together they shine even brighter. It’s a joy to see her thriving alongside such inspiring young ladies.

mother goose

One of the nice things about getting older is knowing you don’t need to have had all your ducks in a row. Even as a kid, I never had one of those polished answers to the question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” I wasn’t dreaming of becoming a doctor, a lawyer, or anything particularly impressive.

But age brings the comforting realisation that the answer doesn’t have to be a profession to be purposeful. Sometimes, it turns out to be motherhood.

My daughters have promoted me to Mother Goose, which is a far better title than anything my younger self could ever have put on a vision board. Of course, no goose can be majestic all the time, and my goslings would be the first to tell you that I am just as often a silly goose.