Sunday, January 19, 2014


Last thing
Last night
Last minute
Last dance
Last drinks
Last chance
Last train

At long last

Last week
Last year

Every last drop

Last kiss
Last days
Last laugh
Last hurrah

Nothing can last forever

Last ditch attempt
Last tango in Paris
Last man standing
Last temptation

Nice guys finish last

Last resort
Last stand
Last gasp

Last I heard

Last meal
Last breath
Last legs
Last words
Last rites
Last post

Last but not least

Last line

It's our last night in St Andrews. I feel like I've written the sad poems about saying goodbye, so I just played with the idea of last tonight. Still I feel that something needs to be said about endings and beginnings. Most of my blogging life has happened here. I blogged when we bought the house and when we moved in. I blogged the bushfires and when Snappy died and I didn't blog when the neighbour's boy drowned but I did blog the poems Frederique wrote for me the morning after, when she could barely write, because my sadness was so palpable. My father-in-law died when we lived here and my half sister too and my mother fought breast cancer

And of course, Avery was born and the house became too small to accommodate us all.

And there were the tiny moments. Everyday life went past, ordinary and miraculous

We've loved living here and I know we'll all miss this house, but we are exciting about the move, fifteen minutes down the road in the car, on the trainline, still surrounded by trees and hills. 

1 comment:

  1. Frangipani9:36 PM

    Lovely thanks Penni. Spent time yesterday revisiting your blog and laughing and crying. 15/11/2010 was my favourite day. Avery born early pm. Saw Leonard Cohen that night. (Then back to chemo) Loved the photo of the girls and Avery.