It’s a cold wintry night and I’m not at the footy. I’m at my local primary school’s poetry reading night. And for the first time in his life this little eight year old footy fan stands on stage ready to recite his poem. A poem he’s written about his team. The only team he’s ever loved. The only colours he’s ever worn. Red and Black, in Adelaide. Now that takes courage.
Fronting the microphone takes another sort of courage. So does sharing your eight year old dream. [This is a cracker – JTH]











No one knows nothing anymore (getting along)
A suburban GP clinic, Literacy week and E.regnans combine to produce a deft delicate touch of appropriate order.