I could give hundreds of reasons, but managed to get it down to ten
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I could give hundreds of reasons, but managed to get it down to ten
by Sally
On ANZAC Day we remember those who have fought for Australia and New Zealand. I’ll be pausing today to think of those who died, and those who returned home, often haunted by what they’d experienced.
Call me home
that I may march
proud, not just
that I was there
but that
I withstood the dark.
by Sally
Did you know that today is World Poetry Day? Well, you do now!
Why do we need a day to celebrate poetry – well, because although we need poetry every day, marking a special day reminds us of its importance, and its commonality – as the UNESCO site says, poetry is ‘one of humanity’s most treasured forms of cultural and linguistic expression and identity’.
Poetry makes us laugh, cry, think, express things we find hard to express, connect with other experiences, and so much more.
But, poetry is often seen by people who don’t know better as something hard, or something elite, or something that is somehow frivolous. It can be each of these things, but I am here to remind you that if its hard or elite then you can look elsewhere for poetry that is accessible. And as for frivolity, though not all poetry is frivolous, a bit of frivolity is a wonderful thing. At a time when the world is really hard for many people, moments of frivolity or joy can remind us of WHY we need to fight for change.
On that note, I made a little video for today, shared on Instagram, including a somewhat frivolous poem. I hope you enjoy it!
by Sally
It’s summer and one of my great joys is being on, on, or under the water. Every time I have a dip I take the chance to just float, often remembering how hard it seemed to float when I was younger – how I would try and try to relax and believe the water would hold me up. My mum seemed to be able to float and float and float.
These days floating comes easy. Maybe it’s a special skill that magically happens when you get older, or maybe, like riding a bike, once you learn to do it, it’s very hard to forget. Either way, this poem is inspired by those thoughts.

Little kids float like starfish –
arms out
legs splayed
eyes screwed shut
as the teacher watches that they don’t drown.
But I float like a cloud
for ages
watching the sapphire sky
ears cocooned by lapping cool.
Nobody here
but me
in a bubble of pleasure.
by Sally
Every January I spend time thinking about the word I will choose as my word for the year. Instead of making a big resolution, or a list of them, or setting big targets, I choose a word I hope will guide me for the year.
Last year my word was Create. The year before Health. This year I tossed a few ideas around – almost choosing health again, since I ended 2025 with some niggling health issues. But, as I packed up my Christmas decorations, the word jumped out at me – literally.

As soon as I picked that decoration up (it had fallen off the tree as I removed something else) I knew it was the perfect word to guide me this year because it’s actually a word I’ve found myself using more and more of late. For those of you who, like me, are worried about the state of the world at the moment, you might think Joy is a strange choice. But in scary times, in times when we can seem powerless, joy becomes a form of resistance (you can read more about this here, and elsewhere) .
Joy is a starting point when we feel stuck, a reminder of good when we see evil and pain, and a force for change when we share it with others.
So, in 2026, I’m trying to choose joy whenever and wherever I can, in ways big and small. In my work, in my leisure and in unexpected moments.
One of the small ways I’m doing that is to try to make sure that every day, at least once a day, I make a note of something that gave me a moment of joy that day. This tin, now empty of the liquorice allsorts which also gave joy over Christmas, has a slot on the top, meant to become a money box I suppose. But it is the perfect thing for to post my little notes into – and putting it on my bedside table, with a notebook and pen, reminds me to do it.

So far, I have noted everyday things (like seeing George joyfully playing on the beach),

and random things, like seeing a dragon protecting a moat (or a creek, at least).Can you see it?
Not big things – though I hope to add plenty of those too – but moments of joy. Noting them after the event brings an another smile every time. And if, during the year, I find it hard to feel joyfully, I’ll open the tin and remind myself of those moments.
In between times, I want to work to make joy much more a part of who I am – so that I can spread it to those around me. And, lest anyone think this frivolous, I’m using joy not to ignore the wrong in the world, but to try to counter it.
The little decoration is now hanging above my desk as a daily reminder while I work. Here’s hoping I can spread some of that joy to you through what I do.
Here’s a to a joyful 2026.
by Sally
August was crazily busy with Bookweek and a house move, and lots of reading for work thrown in, so I have only five books to report, and three of them being very short ones. But hey, I made time for reading, and I’m pleased with that. Here’s what I read:
Books for Younger Readers
My Grandson Lew, by Charlotte Zolotow & William Pene Du Bois (Harper & Row, 1974). Another from the to-read pile, a lovely little offering about a child’s grief and love for his grandfather.
Left and Right With Lion and Ryan, by Robert Littell & Phillip Wende (World’s Work, 1970). A third from the pile. A quirky book helping readers learn left from right.Books for Young Adults
That brings my total for the year to date to 69. I am in the midst of unpacking the thousands of books that I moved, and this is making me want to read more and more and more, so hopefully that total will climb by the end of the year.