Sue's blog

Author Archives: Sue Woolfe

Day 77

Written 5 June, 2020.   ,Days of torment about my chapter. My tormentor my editor has said it’s like a re-write of my book The Mystery of the Cleaning Lady: a novelist Looks at Creativity and Neuroscience and he’s right, it is; a re-write; then it needs typo correcting and the removal of my florid novelistic bits and… Continue reading…

Day 76

Written 3 June, 2020.   Settling into the city, remembering to go out with masks and little bottles of hand sanitiser in handbags or pockets. A frantic scrounge for each when we walk into crowds. It’s so long since our carefree, but cold,  days by the river. At the hairdresser’ in Darilnghurst  where I go… Continue reading…

Day 71

Written 29 May, 2020       It takes all day to leave. The tide’s low in the morning, so we can’t leave. It’s begun to go down again by the time we at last get in the boat, turning and waving to our neighbours on their deck and Dy standing at his brazier with… Continue reading…

Day 70

Written 28 May, 2020.       Our last day, unbearably beautiful.  I ring back my friend S in New York, because she rang me accidentally at 5.30 am. I can’t do the maths.  tell her about the scam and she urges me to ring VISA. There’s lots of good stories, they’ve been generous in this… Continue reading…

Day 69

Written 26 May, 2020.         The chapter’s almost finished, and we decide it’s got too hard – nine days of no sunshine,  the firewood is always damp, the night temperatures that drop to 8 degrees, the generator shock. We’ll go away for two months, back to the city to the house of… Continue reading…

Day 68

Written 25 May.   The day began so well, there was no hint of what was coming. Our neighbour ST appeared on our deck with the huge gas bottle- he’d been walking along the track and seen I’d dumped it on the bottom step  This wouldn’t happen in the city! We chat for a few… Continue reading…

Day 67

Written 24 May, 2020. One of those dreary cold days when you should stay in bed with your cuddly flannelette sheets and your electric blanket on high. In fact, I can’t sleep, I’m worrying over the chapter so much that I catch myself saying aloud a sentence, so there’s no help for it.  I get… Continue reading…

Day 66

Written 23 May, 2020       Moxham’s late. He was due at 8 am to collect our rubbish, but where is he? We must boat to Brooklyn, to Homer’s, for our food box before a gale comes. I pace along the track at 8.15. Dy’s anxious, for he’s arranged that Moxham on the same… Continue reading…

Day 65

Written 22 May, 2020 I wake after a night of little sleep to GG telling me that my rowboat has come adrift at one end. It’s alright, he says as I jump up. You’ve got time. His voice grates against my stupor. It’s light, 6.30. I rush to the doors and see it tossing helplessly,… Continue reading…

Day 64

Written 21 May, 2020       A bad day. Cloudy, and the solar power crashed, so the generator roared.  GG with his one good arm dragged the generator around to the tool shed in the hope it’d be quieter, but it still roared. I spent 2 hours on an email for a zoom meeting… Continue reading…