The tiny hamlet of Greenough, four hundred kilometres north of Perth in Western Australia and twenty-four kilometres south of Geraldton, draws me like a magnet.
Celebrating life’s big events is the only possible subject for me to post today. Here are the events my family has celebrated over the last three weeks. The birth of my fourth great-grandchild. The birthday of my oldest grandchild, Claire-Helen Linton. Mothers’ Day. My husband, John Fleming, turned eighty years old. My son, James O’Callaghan, celebrated his birthday …
Mothers’ Day is an odd occasion. People, especially women, seem to either love it or hate it. Happily, I fall into the first category. I love it with a gentle passion that is hard to explain. Of course that won’t stop me from trying to explain by posting about it.
A doula is ‘a woman who gives support, help, and advice to another woman during pregnancy, birth of the baby and afterwards’.
War effort or subversion? We will never know. But my mother, Florence Stone was a woman who made a difference. She wrote dozens and dozens of letters to strangers during World War II. She said it was part of her war effort. And I’m willing to bet every letter she wrote was treasured, some for many years.