Tuesday, 27 November 2007


When we arrived home Laddie was waiting as usual with his black and white hair in need of a wash and carrying a toy for me to throw to him. Of course I did and that sent him flying through the air to fetch it. I went inside to find Isabelle crying and mum and dad sitting there expressionless, holding a letter. I took it from her and read it, it read. “Mr Bart Edmond you have been called by the AIF to join the war. You are to leave immediately”. That letter changed my life forever. The next day my beloved father left us. My mother would only talk when it was necessary. My always happy and cheerful sister was no longer happy. I, as a young four year old did not understand why they had taken my daddy away or when he was coming home. Our house became quiet and sad and this continued for two years. Then one fine sunny day a telegram came and that was the day I realized I would see my darling father again. My life from then on seemed to be a blur. Even though I was young it affected me with such force. Mum, Isabelle and I lived with grief in our hearts which none of us could let go of for years. It took me ten years to be able to really live life again and one very special person helped so much. I had gone for a walk one sunny afternoon. There was not a cloud in the sky and it was the most beautiful shade of blue. You could look out across the fields and see the mountains continue further and further into the distance. As I walked I noticed someone standing on the side of the road. As I got closer an easel and canvas came into view and I realized he was painting. He turned to face me and he was ever so handsome. He had dark brown curly hair with the most amazing dimples and dark crystal clear eyes that sent tingles down my spine. My eyes then wandered curiously to his painting. It was perfect, every shadow, colour and object had been captured realistically and beautifully. We had not spoken a word to each other since we met some minutes before. “Hi my name is Clara Jane, your painting is amazing”. I can remember saying after my speechless admiration for his painting. His name was Edward and he was 15. We started to talk, mainly about his painting. From that first meeting a great friendship was formed. We use to lie in the grass and talking about our futures and what we wanted to do. Edward wanted to become a doctor because he loved the idea of being able to save someone’s life. I had never really thought about it. I would be a mother to beautiful children. That is what was expected, but I wanted more than that, I wanted to make a difference in the world. Edward showed me how to live life again and I will never be able to thank him enough. As we grew older we became closer and closer. I found myself wanting to spend every waking moment with him. As I sat and wrote in my journal, I could hear the glorious sound of rain on the roof. I looked out the window and amidst the rain I see a familiar figure running towards the house. I ran and opened the door, Edward Smith was standing there, water running from his beautiful brown curly hair onto his handsome face. His eyes so clear looking into mine and my forever searching eyes had finally found what they were looking for. He bent down on one knee and my heart skipped a beat. “My gorgeous Clara Jane will you marry me?” He said with the softest voice. “Yes, nothing else would make me so happy as to marry you”. I can remember how happy I was that day and how happy he made me feel. We had a spring wedding two years later. With the sweet smell of flowers in the air and wearing my dream dress made out of soft white silk that flowed to the ground and yellow wild flowers in my hair. I walked down the isle looking into the eyes of one very smart looking man in a black and white suit, in front of all my friends and family. After that mum died and left the farm to us. Isabelle found a great man and was once again happy and cheerful. Edward became a doctor like he had always dreamed and we all lived happily ever after.

And as I sit here in the once lonely blue rocking chair looking out across my weeping willow farm writing of my life. I realize how truly lucky I am and I have finally realized that I was placed on this earth to share my life with others through writing. I am a writer.

Tuesday, 20 November 2007


As you drove up the long, winding path that led to the house, you could see through the window the tall willow trees swaying in the wind. When you arrived at the house my precious dog Laddie would excitedly jump around ready to meet you when you got out. Every time I would stop and look at my house. The sweeping cream veranda, the giant wooden door that I had always found remarkable for the reason that it had a certain charm you could not replace, the silver pitched roof that stood so high and the old blue rocking chair that always sat alone on the verandah. This was my home and I love it for that. When I was two my beautiful sister Isabelle was born and from then on it was Isabelle, Mum, Dad and I, we lived together happily and peacefully on our little farm. I will always remember the date 25th of June 1914. I was four years old and Isabelle was two. Mum and Dad thought it would be a fabulous to have an outing to the beach. We packed a picnic basket full of delicious treats to eat. Off we drove to the beach, the four of us happily as can be. I can remember how much fun we had getting all sandy and wet. There is this one photo of us, Isabelle’s sitting on mum’s lap right beside dad and I am standing beside them. We look so happy and young, each of us with a smile on our face. We had such fun that day.

Sunday, 18 November 2007


For my english assignment we had to right a descriptive story. I thought i would show you all mine. This is your first instalment of ONE WRITERS LIFE by me.

As I sit and watch the cattle graze slowly over the soft, luscious green grass, I wonder what their thinking, whether it is of the bright blue, crystal clear sky that lies over head or the annoying swarm of flies that come by there hundreds this time of year. I think of my glorious life and what I have done… This is, my journey.

They called me Clara-Jane that rainy summer night when I was born. I came into the world with my dark hazel eyes growing, searching and looking for something. My mother always used to say that from the moment I was born she knew I would do great things in life all because of my beaming eyes and later my exquisite smile that could make people happy every time I walked into a room. I grew up in a little country town on weeping willow farm. It was my home and I loved it.