It’s All About The Journey.

Home after a week pottering around the beautiful small townships of the New South Wales, South Coast Region. This trip, despite its short length, was a celebration of the end of one phase of my life and for the beginning of the next. The goal was to purge some sad memories and to create some that were new and fresh. It is amazing how quickly those goals were achieved.

This part of the world is a continuous coastline on one side of the highway, and soft green hills or rugged timberland on the other. It’s a part of the world where you don’t have to share a beach and there is a plethora of space to stop and think. Space where there is no white noise. Any plans for an overseas jaunt in coming months are seriously being overhauled.

My favourite travel writer, Bill Bryson, who totally cracks me up said “ To my mind, the greatest reward and luxury of travel is to be able to experience everyday things as if for the first time, to be in a position in which almost nothing is so familiar it is taken for granted.”

Road trips are the source of much fascinating information. After a quick feed at a pub in Nowra, I learnt that The Archer Tavern was named after the racehorse that won Australia’s first and second Melbourne Cups in 1861 and ‘62. Archer was a long distance specialist having walked the 600 miles from Nowra to Melbourne for the big race.

This was the basis of a truly dreadful mid eighties movie starring Our Nic before she met that bloke Cruise, and a young Brett Climo. Whatever happened to him, I wonder?

In Moruya, further south on the Moruya River, you can’t miss the recently closed Air Raid Tavern situated on the Highway. A wooden carving of The Airman stands proudly outside. Moruya ?Air Raids? The hallmarks of a failed education system in the 1970s were once again raising their ugly heads.

Three trawler men lost their lives during WW2 when a Japanese Midget submarine bombed them off the Moruya Coast, on their way up the East Coast. Who knew that? Some more unpalatable history, apparently.

So, of course I had to look at the Midget Sub on display, very much bruised and battered, at the Australian War Memorial in Canberra. Fascinating stuff.

For the penultimate in Trivia a celebration of another kind taking place further south near Narooma had themed food to match the quiz like game at hand, set up in tents in a back garden, with a soft summer breeze, the hum of cicadas, and a playlist of music from the last five decades.

Much thanks must go to these good people, these Adventurers, who have convinced me to add “Watch Dr Who Christmas Special” to my Must Do List. An achievement considering never having watched a Star Wars, Harry Potter, or Lord Of The Rings movie  which I rate highly as Personal Bests, right up there with my No Tupperware Policy.

And I picked up a first Edition copy of Rudyard Kipling’s, Kim, for my Errol Flynn Collection from a second hand bookstore in a little country town that served the best coffee.

Ralph Waldo Emerson once said , “It’s not the destination. It’s the journey.” So true.

Monopoly at the Beach Shack

No book shelf in this little beach shack we’ve been renting, but does that really matter when you only have to walk 100 metres to wet the fishing line? Besides, the fresh fish for tea every night I’ve really delighted in sitting on the porch with a pot of tea and watching all the other poor souls travel to work each day. Sad, but that does give me so much pleasure.


The shack does have a supply of local community magazines which I’ve just loved. From these you learn the whereabouts of the cheapest Sunday Roast, the location of the closest Garden Centre, and whereabouts the local markets are held. They are a fund of information.


I’ve just read a fascinating article written by a gentleman by the name of Neil Wilson about the board game, Monopoly. Hands up who hasn’t played Monopoly?

In my family, Monopoly was always one way to start a war, not help finish one.

There is also a local Book Exchange in the Village. Look what I found…..




Holidays……Let The Fun Begin.

I’ve always excelled at holidays. It’s what I do best. Long breaks, short beach trips, overseas ventures, holidays driving around country towns, some closer to home. When my children were young I was fortunate to work in a corporate world which enabled me to Salary Sacrifice, allowing the purchase of an additional four weeks leave each year, on top of the regulation four weeks.

Even if holidays meant staying at home for the duration I loved this time with the girls. We rode our bikes, went for picnics in local reserves, cooked cakes together, watched movies, and read books. Of course, when we did go away we had fantastic trips. Bad move on my part, teaching them how to experience the best of travel and love the theatre, as both can be expensive hobbies.

Daughter Number 1 wants to visit Malta, for which we can blame, fairly and squarely, Justin Sheedy’s war fiction trilogy. The youngest, the Bibliophile, has a political bent and wants to visit America at the time of the next election. ( those wretched West Wing DVDs!). I’ve told both I’m coming with them, as long as we can visit Jellystone Park.

(Question : How many dinkydi Aussies have the Barrack Obama Coffee Table Book on permanent display in their residence?)


I never needed any training for holidays. I’ve found it a natural, God-given talent to be so good at making the most of the time not working so damn pleasurable.

Even now, an Empty Nester, I am enjoying my break. Is it sad to enjoy mopping the tile floor whilst listening to Michael Bauble? Or when hanging the clothes on the line and feeling the sun on your shoulders gives you pleasure? Staying up late on a school night with a few wines is a pleasure that should never be taken for granted, and then having three books on the go at the same time is the icing on the cake.

I’m enjoying this time at home so very much that I have made the decision this morning to retire. Yes, I’ve already been down that route once and after three months at home applied for one job, as a testing ground to check if my skills were still current and saleable, and started work the very next day.

Why now? No idea other than intuition. It’s time. And I can hear my father’s voice in the background saying, “ Pet, you’re a long time dead”.

The LOML is a bit lost for words. Supportive, but full of suggestions like work from home, longer hours less days. Sorry, Sweetie, not going to happen. Hanging up my boots……..There are things to do and places to go.


The Financial Advisor won’t be impressed either. Tough. I will fly interstate for a few days, adding two or three extra days for a short holiday, for consultation purposes of course.

Thank you for being a sounding board today.

Woot Woo. Bring it on!





“An Awkward Truth”, Vegemite on Toast, Basil Plants & Cheongsums.

Breakfast in the garden this morning which was lovely. Nothing beats the old Vegemite on Toast. We are supposed to be in our second month of Autumn, and though the mornings and evenings are just perfect the daytime temperatures are still hot and humid. It’s those cyclones floating around the far north and Coral Sea causing the havoc.* already wiping sweat from brow.


Disappointed not to move any plants over the weekend particularly as there will be no further opportunities till next month. When I get back from the Deep South where I’ll be playing mother, I’m heading north to play father’s daughter. Yep, I’m going fishing for a few days.


( Photo taken 196……*    Oooooops, brain fog)

The Rosemary plants which I was hoping to sell for Anzac Day will now require replanting into bigger pots which is this mornings task.

Then I’m lunching with the Geranium Lady who fundraisers for the same organisation. She has a Christmas in July dinner and trivia night in the works and has approval from the organisation to use their banner for the function. I hope to hold a small plant table on the night which will include the Rosemary bushes and the Basil which are taking over my garden like Triffids. I thought I would add a jar of my Basil salt with these plants as so many people don’t seem to know just how versatile this herb can be. If I’m brave enough I will also try my hand at Rosemary infused Olive Oil.

Have also a couple of flowering exotics on the go which, fingers crossed, in a nice pot will make a half decent raffle prize, as will some Roses pilfered from one of the neighbours garden waste bags.


I haven’t packed any books for my travels yet and will drop by the library later today.  I’m currently reading about the bombing of Darwin during WW2; An Awkward Truth by Peter Grose. I really don’t know what to make of this one as it defies the very little we learnt about this event in our history.

And I mean very little. Embarrassingly, most of my knowledge came from that dreadful Kidman/Jackman movie titled “Australia”. If you’ve never seen it, don’t bother. Best thing about sitting through this three hours of wasteland was Our Nic’s Cheongsum. Just gorgeous but I can’t wear one – I’de look like a wine barrel!

The raid by the Japanese was bigger and more destructive than that of Pearl Harbour only weeks earlier. Although there was much bravery exhibited saving the seamen blown into the waters of Darwin Harbour, as well as a handful of courageous aircrew and civilians, including a prisoner from the local Gaol with ambulance training, the incident in reality was a blot on the landscape with looting, drunkenness, total ineptitude by Authorities, and an Administrator who lacked integrity, was selfish and an utter…..well, you get the picture.


This is the Goodreads blurb:

The people of Darwin abandoned their town, leaving it to looters, a few anti-aircraft batteries and a handful of dogged defenders with single-shot .303 rifles. Yet the story has remained in the shadows.

Drawing on long-hidden documents and first-person accounts, Peter Grose tells what really happened and takes us into the lives of the people who were there. There was much to be proud of in Darwin that day: courage, mateship, determination and improvisation. But the dark side of the story involves looting, desertion and a calamitous failure of leadership. Australians ran away because they did not know what else to do.

Absorbing, spirited and fast-paced, An Awkward Truth is a compelling and revealing story of the day war really came to Australia, and the motley bunch of soldiers and civilians who were left to defend the nation.

Fascinating stuff, but I’m finding it difficult to get my head around it. Darwin nearly eighty years ago had only dirt roads and a population of less than 6,000,  the army only had one round of live ammunition per man, sharing their guns in the evenings with those standing guard, and communications were limited. The first sighting of the Japanese planes over the ocean were even identified as Kitty Hawks.

When I visited this northern-most Australian City last winter I felt there was much pride in their military history. I had no inkling of anything other than the general folklore so am feeling a bit conflicted.



Remind me to order the documentary of the same name from the Library too, please.

Possum Magic By Mem Fox (& Hot Cross Buns)

Woke up feeling joyous. Why? First day since Christmas Eve that I have been inclined to turn the ceiling fans off. The fans do a reasonable job maintaining the house at a comfortable temperature but for a few days there I felt like I was living next door to a helicopter launching pad as the fans were going at full bore.

Whilst on holidays I’ve completed ten books and watched even more movies. My home has been rearranged and decluttered, I have spent time in the garden and have another twenty Rosemary plants potted to raise funds for my charity. Even more exciting, the Christmas ham is at last finished, gone, kaput. Thank goodness for that! Now to start cooking the Ham and Vegetable Soup, so thick a spoon will stand up in it, for freezing for the winter months.

So sharing the happiness : I just devoured my first Hot Cross Bun for 2018. My parents would be turning in their graves as they instilled in me that these were Easter treats only. It wasn’t that they were particularly tasty as they lacked any hint of spice or fruit. It was my first act of rebellion for the year and one that doesn’t  mean eternal damnation.


With all the tidying I came across this purchase I made some months ago.  Typical Gemini, it had been misplaced with numerous other items, such as Xmas gifts that I only located on Boxing Day.


Inspired by Australia’s top-selling children’s book of all time, the Royal Australian Mint’s 2017 Possum Magic 8-Coin Set, was released mid 2017.

Mem Fox’s charming Possum Magic has been capturing the hearts of the young (and the young at heart!) for over three decades. The book tells the story of Hush and Grandma Poss, with the tale brought to life by Julie Vivas’ iconic watercolour illustrations. Indeed, it is those incredible illustrations that have now been enshrined in Australian legal tender.


The two main characters are Grandma Poss and Hush. Hush has been made invisible by Grandma to protect her from Australian bush dangers. The story details the duo’s adventures as they tour Australia searching for the secret to Hush’s visibility. It is a rhythmical story of Australia’s varied landscapes and the animals in them.

This is a really lovely book for Little People and it has been well read in our home. I’ll be purchasing a couple more copies for some Imminent Emminents soon.

Two Book Reviews and a Nod to Spaghetti.

My genetic disposition means that I rarely look back. I inherited my fathers survival skills in that I continually look forward. So 2017 – All over, Red Rover.

My mother’s input into the equation means that I have never set goals nor been ambitious. It has always simply been the case of putting one foot in front of the other, one day at a time, and moving forward. Therefore, no New Years Resolutions. No list of books to read, no places to visit, nor new things to learn over the coming 365 days.

Thankfully, this morning is cooler and it seems that South East Queensland is finally getting a break from the oppressive heat and humidity that we’ve been experiencing since Christmas. You know the humidity is high when the makeup slides off your face……

So, my reading drought is well and truly over thanks primarily to the weather. Just finished another two books of very different natures.

City of Crows by Chris Womersley had received so many good reports from the blogging community that I downloaded this one from the local library. It is set in 17th Century Paris when France is rife with the Plague, and is a tale of a recently widowed woman who heads to the capital with her one remaining child. They are attacked mid journey and she is left to die whilst her young son is kidnaped, presumably to be sold as a slave. She is aided by an old woman with “powers” and teams up with a gent of questionable history and intent to save her son. There is much about demons, witches, and spirits, and just what a mother would do to save her only child.


This novel was well written, though I kept dithering whether or not to push myself to finish it. It became a task of conscience and I am blaming myself, the heat, and a subject of absolutely no personal interest. I guess it says something in that I continued to the very end. Let’s just put it down to wrong time of the year for something so dark in nature, though I am led to believe, historically accurate.

My boss, another book hound, often leaves reading material on my desk that she has picked up in a sale. I had put reading The Old Fellow’s War by Edmond Nyst off for several months but so enjoyed it these past few days.

This book was published when Nyst was 80 years of age and he comments that “ all of a sudden I find myself writing about events that I have tried all my life to forget”.


Nyst was 15 years of age when the Germans marched into Marseilles during World War 2. Born in France he was of Dutch parentage and helped his father ( who was later knighted for his services to humanity) hide Dutch Jews in surrounding villages. The three sons and mother were then sent to separate hiding spots though the author joined the Maquis, which was similar to the Resistance, yet operated within France under the direction of England.

This is another tale of skirmishes and brutality told with sadness as well as some humour, albeit black. It also includes a sorry episode about a small town, by the name of Oradour, which was totally wiped out by the Nazis just a few days after the landing at Normandy.

Nyst ends up enlisted and his military training sends him to army camps in both NSW and Queensland. His descriptions of major railway stations in both Sydney and Brisbane during the 40’s should bring a smile to anyone with any familiarity. He is then sent to Java to assist with the repatriation of the Dutch from the POW Camps.

Finally he returns to France to reconnect with family, though then travels back to Australia where he take up citizenship, starts a family, and is admitted as a barrister at the High Court of both NSW and Qld, and the High Court of Australia.

Ahhhhhhh, a girl does like a happy ending…….

Because we are also catching up on Movies I think it will be Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman in Casablanca tonight for a little bit of the Nazis marching into Marseilles.


Oh, and Happy National Spaghetti Day on January the 4th.


Legends Of The Fall by Jim Harrison

Yes, agreed, have been reading books and watching far too many DVDs. In my defence, Brisbane’s humidity has been simply woeful with the hottest ever Christmas Day on record, and the temperatures haven’t decreased by much yet. Plus, we are still living on leftovers, including my other Epic Christmas Fail : Cous Cous with Pumpkin(home grown) in Nutmeg, with Bok Choy and Feta Cheese. I enjoyed this dish, but not for seven days in a row.


Look what I picked up for $1 at the local charity shop? This book is actually made up of three novellas, the last being Legends of the Fall, which is only 81 pages in length.


Have we all seen the 1990’s movie, starring a young Brad Pitt (before he was tainted by train wreck relationships), and Anthony Hopkins in one of his best ever roles? Legends of the Fall is another of those movies I tend to watch once a year : great story, beautiful scenery, Native Indian folklore, and a good dash of whimsy.

The novella, by James Harrison, published twenty years beforehand, is about three brothers and their father living in the wilderness and plains of Montana in the early 20th century and how their lives are affected by nature, history, war and love. The books time frame spans from World War I through to the Prohibition era, with an epilogue that dates to the next generation.

The writing is concise, breathtakingly beautiful whilst at times being totally brutal. It’s a wonderful story, and one from which the movie has not deviated from all that much, but rather expanded upon.

My copy of the book looks as if it’s been through the wars. Nevertheless, it’s one that I will not be parting with.

And I promise to brush my hair tomorrow and leave the house and sofa, even if it’s before 8 am to beat this wretched heat.

Far Out, Brussel Sprout

In late 2016 the breakfast culinary delight, Smashed Avocado, became a political football when Australian demographer, Bernard Salt, wrote in local media, “that young people buying smashed avocado with crumbled feta on five-grain toasted bread at $22 a pop was contributing to their inability to buy a home”.

This glib remark caused a total social media frenzy, and a new cultural group was formed : Baby Boomers, Gen Y, Millennials, and now, the Smashed Avocado Set. My youngest daughter proudly labels herself thus.

I am quietly awaiting another uproar by the masses following my recent offering of Smashed Brussel Sprouts at Christmas lunch.

Brussel Sprouts have a proud history with their forerunners likely cultivated in Ancient Rome and possibly as early as the 1200s, in Belgium. The first written description of Brussels sprouts was in 1587. These misunderstood little packages of goodness have been included in works of literature throughout the ages, and in Australia became a part of folklore, with the chant “Far Out, Brussel Sprout” being heard within school yards and public service buildings across the country.

Sadly in some countries Brussel Sprouts are reviled. A 2008 survey by Heinz names this compact little vegetable the most hated vegetable in America, and in the Top 5 around the world.

Here is my nod to the humble Brussel Sprout:


Cook Brussel Sprouts in salted boiling water for 15 minutes. We don’t want them soft, just not rock hard.

Drain and tip into an ice bath. Yes, like an athlete after a big game.

When coolled, Smash. Do not obliterate. You want them to retain their shape, so just press the bread board down hard on them, so they look thinner. Appearance is everything these days, and as some old biddy once said “ you can never be too thin”.

Place on a tray which has been lined with baking paper.

In a bowl mix pepper, crushed garlic, olive oil, cheese, and Parmesan cheese. Sprinkle over Brussel Sprouts

Bake in oven for twenty minutes , or when topping is golden in colour, and serve immediately.



I loved this dish, though in the total scheme of things, it was an abysmal failure. Surrounded by prawns, ham, turkey and several boxes of chocolates this concoction did not even rate a look in by the younger guests at Christmas lunch.

It looks like I’ll be eating it on my own for months to come.




Where Things Can Take You….

A few years back the High School I attended celebrated its 50th year with an array of celebrations, including a series of Class Reunions. Although I was unable to attend any of the events the festivities provided the opportunity to reminisce with many neighbours, friends and acquaintances from all those years ago via social media. The beauty of the internet is that I have since enjoyed catching up over a meal with people with whom I shared my ratty teenage years, as well as a play mate from the sand pit in kindy.

With all the nostalgia someone recommended a book called “Goodnight, Crackernight” by young Australian Author, Justin Sheedy. This book was always going to resonate with me as Cracker Night, in Sydney, was originally celebrated on Empire Day, May 24th, the day after my birth date. I grew up believing, with assistance from my parents, that the fireworks were in honour of my birthday.

Yes, I also believed in fairies at the bottom of the garden, leprechauns, and Unicorns. Didn’t you?


The blurb on the back of the book sums it up :

“Crackernight! One night a year, the infinite normality of the suburbs is shot with utter magic. Goodbye, Crackernight is the story of one boy’s childhood in 1970s Australia. It is a story of fireworks, of fun that cost nothing, of second-hand bikes, UFO-crowded skies, streakers, lime green Valiants, half-sucked Sunny Boys and electric pink hotpants. It is a story of growing up and innocence left behind – at a three-day swimming pool party. It is the tale of an era, of far simpler times, of an annual neighbourhood festival and an Australia long since gone”.

“Goodbye Crackernight”: A portrait of growing up when a child’s proudest possession was not a Playstation but a second-hand bike.”

So, I became a fan of young Justin Sheedy, who just happened to be a military aviation tragic, and who had written two books of a Second World War trilogy, and was busy working on the final instalment.

My old Da had served in Bomber Command during WW2, but did not talk about his exploits. A house full of women, and the stiff upper lip attitude as was expected, you see.

So I naturally gravitated towards Sheedy’s fictional military history books. Firstly, because I had a need to learn more about how and why young Australians were excited to head to the other side of the world to fight the Nazis in the sky, and also because Sheedy spins a darn good yarn.

Sheedy’s books have taken me on a journey that was never anticipated. After using his fictional characters in historically correct situations I have learnt so much about the Empire Air Training Scheme, London’s Kangaroo Club, the amazing Guinea Pig Club, the female pilots who ferried aircraft, and most recently, Malta’s role during the hostilities. WOW – all great stuff. This interest has led to the hunting down of further reading material on these subjects which is another task which gives me a total buzz. I guess, in a small way, it gave me insight into my Da as a young man, before he had the quarter acre block, the mortgage and me.

So now that I have settled on my new Christmas lunch recipes – Smashed Brussel Sprouts and a Cous Cous and Roast Pumpkin and Feta Salad – I am looking forward to the coming recluse time, when the blinds are pulled down, the music plays quietly, and recovery from another frantic year can commence.

Number one priority is to complete this Airfix Kit. It’s a Halifax from WW2. Bizarrely, the nose art on this Kit plane is exactly the same as the nose art on my Da’s plane.
A sponsored ad for Airfix Kits just popped up on social media just over twelve months ago when I was sitting up reading late one night. Let’s just say apoplexy set in.


Where things can take you, hey….



2017 Reading List -Done and Dusted.


I surrender. * waving white flag.

With the constant summer humidity, work demands, and Christmas Festivities I am unable to participate in any more reading this year. My head is too full and the old bod is tired.

For the next few weeks, until we get past the day when the jolly man in the red suit arrives, I will only be reading News Updates on the tablet, or watching DVDs under the cool of the ceiling fans, chilled G and T in hand.

And of course, the blogs of wonderful people out  there in blog world. Thank you to all for sharing some truly interesting stuff, the stuff that makes you laugh, cry, think, informs and takes you back to places you had forgotten.

Oh, I might read a cookbook or two. Every summer it is nice to present a new dish to the Christmas table. This summers on trend salad seems to be anything with watermelon in it. Watermelon, mint and Kalamata Olives? Not sure if that will satisfy any of the blokes at the table…..

The only Reading Challenge I participate in is the Australian Author Challenge : books by Aussie Authors. Book numbers hold no appeal.  I find I don’t enjoy reading when it comes to key performance indicators – blame too many years working in Customer Service……

As Frank Zappa once said, “too many books, too little time”. If a book doesn’t grab me within twenty pages they get the flick. It’s my lack of concentration and focus. They didn’t make it to the list.

There is no TBR List. Life is too bloody short. I read what I want to read, and a psychoanalyst would be hard pressed to determine why some reads tickle my fancy at the times that they do.

The pile of books at the end of my bed continues to grow, though to celebrate the end of the year my bedside table is finally clear, allowing more room for cards, letters, and that teapot full of divine sustenance.


In summary, my reading year has again been full of surprises. Coming across a book by total accident that included my Dad’s war history absolutely threw me, anything by Hannah Kent is five star, and I quite enjoyed a couple of “girlie” novels too. Putting that down to old age, hey?

I’m sure a chilled something is calling. So until then, may Santa bring you a heap on new books, and more importantly, the time to enjoy them……..

Star of Aqualina – B C Mercer.
Beach Music – Pat Conroy.
Rogue Lawyer – John Grisham
Perfume – Patrick Suskind.
A Taste of Romance – Anthology -Lauren James
The Good People – Hannah Kent.
Four Godly Kingdoms -Matthew Reilly.
The Crossroad – Mark Donaldson.
Touchstone – Laurie R King
Midsummer Garden – Kirsty Manning.
Jack – Margaret Szalay.
Touchstone – Laurie King
Short and Tall Tales – Lillian Jackson Braun.
Arthur’s War – Arthur Bancroft.
Other People’s War- Justin Sheedy.
X – Sue Grafton.
Down The Dirt Roads – Rachael Treasure.
The Fabulous Flying Mrs Miller – Carol Baxter
Truly Madly Guilty- Liane Moriarty.
All that is lost between us – Sara Foster.
The Blasphemer – John Ling.
MaNamaras Woman – Lisa Gardner.
The Big Score – Peter Corris
Falling – Emma Kavanagh.
The Prophecy of Bees – R S Pateman.
The Big Score – Peter Corris
The Chocolate Tin – Fiona Macintosh.
Under the Spanish Stars – Alli Sinclair.
My Wicked, Wicked Ways – Errol Flynn.
My Fathers War – Sophie Masson.
Girl in The Water – Paula Hawkins.
Dead or Alive – Michael Rowbottham.
The Farmers Wife – Rachael Treasure.
Food, Sex, Money – Liz Byrski.
Q is for Quarry – Sue Grafton.
Miracle Cure – Harlan Coben.
Lancaster Men – Peter Rees.
The Railway Man’s Wife – Ashley Hay.
Memories of a Go Go Dancer.
Goodoo Goodoo – Robert G Barrett.
The Good Daughter – Karen Slaughter.
You Sent Me A Letter – Lucy Dawson
Trial By Fire – Terri Blackstone.
Quentin, Not All Super Heros Wear Capes- Quentin Kenihan.
50 Bales of Hay – Rachael Treasure.
Rain music – Di Morrissey.
Ghost Children – Sue Townsend.
The Secret She Keeps – Michael Robotham.
The Distant Hours – Kate Moreton.
Memoirs of a Go Go Dancer – Justin Sheedy.
The Killer On The Wall – Emma Kavanagh.
The Rattled Bones – S M Parker.
The Museum of Modern Love – Heather Rose.
Wattle Creek – Fiona McCallum.
The Beach Cafe – -Lucy Diamond.
The House At Evelyn’s Pond – Wendy Orr.
Camino Island- John Grisham.
The Dry- Jane Harper.
Perfect – Cecilia Ahearn.
V Is For Vengeance -Sue Grafton.
The Patterson Girls- Rachael johns.
Memoirs – Lindsay O’Brien.
The Happiest Refugee – Ahn Do
Sandakan – Paul ham.
Paper Towns – John Green.
Thirsty, memoir of. Fame Whore – Joel Creasy
Reversal – Michael Connelly.
A Memoir – Peter Fitzsimons.
Mercy – Jodie Piccoult.
Saving Grace. – Fiona McCallum.
Time will Tell – Fiona McCallum.