During one of his beloved random checks on the phone tracker, the travelling husband noticed that daughter number one, who was coming home for the weekend but first planning to wander a bit in town with a friend, was not where she said she would be.
Not that she was anywhere prohibited or dangerous; besides, daughter number one normally does not lie about her whereabouts. Not because she is a saint or something remotely close to a perfect considerate daughter and human being but because she can’t be bothered. Also, let’s face it, her social life is not that wild either. For sure not even close to mine and her father’s at her age, and that’s might be one of the reasons he is so obsessed with tracking his daughters ( and occasionally his wife).
Back to daughter number one and her whereabouts: according to her phone and her father, she was not in town but had already been in the village at her friend’s house. So what? The girls had changed plans and decided to come straight home rather than hang out in town. She was safely gossiping at a friend’s house. Even better, safer for sure and so I told my husband who responded with his most typical reaction: he raised his left eyebrow. Up to me now Now to interpret, what he meant: did he agree with me or simply think I was hopelessly naive?
I responded with a deep roll of my eyes and tried to ignore him, but it was too late. The seed was planted and I eventually rang daughter number one to check what was going on and.… of course I was right! She and her friend changed their mind and decided not to stay in town. A mother’s instinct is never wrong! A mother’s instinct is also very sensitive ( at least this mother’s is) and while she was chatting with me on the phone the ugly truth hit me: WTF child? You are less than 5 km away and couldn’t stop by your home 10 freaking minutes before heading to your friend’s? Bottom line: you went to see some other parents before yours??????? There I said!!!!!! And.… Just like that….I lost it!
Thankfully, an ungrateful, insensitive daughter and a psychotic demented mother share the same short memory, and the unpleasant episode was soon forgiven and forgotten and not only that but last time she was home she also came looking for advice because, apparently, I know my shit and I tend to be , annoyingly, right. Setting aside the suspicion she might have banged her head again, I deeply enjoyed the moment and proudly dispensed my wisdom.
I would comfortably say we both learned a lesson or two, and I proudly and cleverly applied mine when the following weekend the travelling husband, who perfectly knew our daughter was not coming home, “candidly” asked me if she was because apparently she was on the motorway. I was not falling for it, again. He was just steering the pot, again, and I was not having it. Well, at least not in front of him, because behind his back I couldn’t resist texting her and asking where she was.
“Are you tracking me?” She answered back.
“No,” I calmly replied, “that was your father! But it would be nice of you to inform us when you go away and where; at least if something happens we know which county hospital to come to or which county jail to bail you out from. Enjoy your weekend hon, love you mama”
Motherly love and wisdom at its best.😎😜
Happy Mother’s Day to everyone who is celebrating it today.💕💐
Good day, everyone and welcome to episode 9 of A Chat Among Bloggers.
As today we also celebrate International Women’s Day, my guest could only be a woman, who with her creativity honours us all, Susi from https://iwriteher.com/
As for you, as usual, just sit back , relax and enjoy the chat.
O: Good day, Susi, and thank you for being with me today. I have been following your blog for a long time now bt for those who do not know you, would you like to introduce yourself?
S: I think I said it best on the About Susi page on my blog, I Write Her: “Currently, I’m inhabiting this world wearing many labels that don’t truly do justice to who I am as a person.” I’m mom to two wonderful men, a wife of 30 years, a friend to many kind people, a person disliked by those who can’t stand the truth, an active volunteer and activist, a retiree, a sister to someone with whom I no longer speak, and the daughter of two dysfunctional individuals who are no longer living. These are my labels that only scratch the surface of who I am as a human being. My hope is that my current monikers – writer, author, poet – will reveal more about who this person is deep down.
O: -Have you always been into poetry?
S: When I was younger, I wasn’t into poetry, but I do remember Rod McKuen and Sylvia Plath left an impression on me. I always loved reading, though, so you would likely catch me with my nose stuck in a book. And I devoured everything! Fiction, non-fiction, history, educational, just about anything where I could learn and understand something.
O: How does a poem form in your head? What does inspire you?
S: I would say that whether it’s a topic, a scene I’m observing, or an image, I begin by really taking it in and addressing the questions it raises. And then I decide whether it’s something to share on my blog. But it certainly has to touch my emotions deeply. My writing doesn’t always follow a certain pattern from beginning to end; it is impacted by a variety of things, and sometimes it just seems to already exist in my being and can’t help but flow out of me coherently.
But images are incredibly inspirational to me. I think deeply about the emotions that arise when I see a visual, and that then translates into being able to depict it on paper, so to speak. But I also enjoy the challenge of being restricted when presenting something. Maybe it’s because I kind of am a nerd about being a rule follower? lol Yet I’m also passionate about fairness and injustice, so I can be quite opinionated in my poetry about issues revolving around them.
O: Do you take notes for later every time something triggers a possible verse in your head, or do you have to write it down immediately?
S: I wish I had the ability to immediately begin to write something down and go with that flow, but nine times out of ten, I’m not where I could do that when inspiration strikes, so yes, I do write things down on a memo or, while driving or busy, record a message to myself on my phone, to jumpstart the piece when I can conveniently do so.
O: How did you land on WordPress?
S: This was back in 2017, so I don’t exactly remember how I landed here, but I think it was because I wasn’t really satisfied with staying on BlogSpot. There were two other blogs I had started previously, and I was looking for something with more capabilities that felt more professional and customizable. So, I did a little research, found WordPress, and the rest is history.
O: Is there a story behind your blog’s name? How did you choose it?
S: I Write Her was initially developed to highlight my first published book, Feeling Human. One year to the day, I publishedEvery Day I Pause. In that first year, I did a lot more research and studied poetry styles to realise that my absolute favourite type of poetry is short, structured, and syllabic. But to answer your question, the name of my blog came out of a personal need to be understood. Obviously, writing is just one component of who I am, but my style of expression and my ability to be heard as a person were also part of my drive. So, I felt the blog name had to reflect what I was doing in this space. Personally, I think it’s kind of a catchy play on words too – I Write Her, I writer – it’s about me and what I do, in the same breath.
O: Do you feel connected to some other bloggers? Do you have your little WordPress circle that, over time, became a bit more than just readers?
S: Oh yes, there are some people here who have had not only a personal impact on me but also a professional one! And some have even translated to real friends outside of WP. Some of the writing has impacted me so deeply that it’s actually helped me with my own moments of frailty. The relationships I’ve formed are because we aligned not only in our past, but also in the reshaping of our present and future. That bit I mentioned earlier about being passionate about fairness and injustices is another way I’ve connected with some across WP. They share similar feelings about these issues facing our world and humanity.
O: Do you ever use AI?
S: Rarely, but I did experiment with it on occasion. Once, it was to see how creative it could be with one of the prompts I usually participate in, and I created a few images while trying to show someone what I meant. I’m not a fan of AI being used to create fiction/poetry, or anything that shows a human’s nuanced capabilities, but I am all for AI relieving humans of the boring, repetitive tasks in our world.
O: Do you read lots of poetry? Any past or contemporary favourite poet/poetesse?
S: My hope is that I will always read anything someone recommends to me, all the things my friends who are poets produce, and, of course, fill my Kindle with books by the poets I admire now. As I mentioned, I didn’t read many in my past, but there are a few contemporary poets I enjoy now. Billy Collins and Mary Oliver are among the more prolific and mainstream poets. I find that they both have an incredibly unique style. Some you may not have heard of are Pierre Alex Jeanty, Alfa, Juanzen Dizon, and Norton Nearly. Also, I would recommend that people look at the posts on I Write Her to see who I regularly comment with, as well as those I publish on The Short of It every Friday.
O: That’s interesting about Mary Oliver, I just started A thousand Morning by her.
O: Where do you find poetry in life?
S: Oh, that’s easy – EVERYWHERE! 🙂 Poetry presents itself in tragedies, good times, a child’s smile, a couple’s fight – basically anything that humanity is up to.
O: Oh, I really hoped that was your answer. The beauty of the everyday!!!!
O: Obviously, you must be an avid reader. What would be your pick genre?
S: I can’t say I have a favourite type I go to, since my tastes are all over the place. I just like to imbibe words, and as long as it presents a good story, great information, or sheds light on things that were never in my purview of understanding, I will read it. I’m an avid consumer of information.
O: I like it, I am too. Curiosity is the key of life.
O: Down to personal now:
a- sweet or savoury?
S: Oh, it really depends on what my body is craving, but I would say that it leans more towards the sweet.
b-tea or coffee?
S: White Tea is my go-to, but occasionally, Caramel Macchiatos call my name.
c-beach or mountain?
S: Hands down – the beach! The most perfect beach would have white or pink sand with the clearest blue water lapping onto the shore and palm trees lining it. My bucket list includes my last day on earth being on that kind of beach.
O: And it would certainly be a glorious last day !
Thank you, Susi, for sharing your thoughts and a big piece of yourself with me today. Unfortunately, our chat has come to an end. For you, dear readers, if you want to know more about Susi and her work, here are some links where you can dive into her beautiful mind.
The days are starting to be a bit brighter and longer but we still love to cuddle inside and read, don’t we?!
Here it is what I was up to last month.
AUDIO BOOKS
WEB OF LIES, by Sally Rigby.
A new series still in development (there is, in fact, only book 1 and a prequel), but I like it already. Easy to read, intriguing characters and setting, and a well-articulate plot with that hint of good old style murder mystery that you cannot help but like. 🌟🌟🌟🌟
THE COFFE SHOP DETECTIVES, by Luise Mumford
I will be honest here, in the beginning, I was a bit disappointed. There was an underlying sadness that kind of threw me out, but then came the action, and the villain that was not really a villain and the real villain. Bottom line im glad I read it, I enjoyed it, and I might read more from this series.🌟🌟🌟
HORRIBLE HUSBANDS, by Jessica Huntley
A predictable easy reading far from reality and with a final twist that you could indeed guess if paying attention to the hints spread around the previous chapter.🌟🌟
DEATH OF A WILD SWIMMER, by Peter Boland
Book four of my new addiction, the charity shop detective agency. I finished it in two days, and I am looking forward already to diving into book 5.🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟
PAPER BOOKS
BEAUTIFUL UGLY, by Alice Feeney
A complex story of love, betrayal, feelings, and revenge. Fast-paced and captivating from page one.🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟
GOOD NEIGHBOURS, by Chad Zunker
A brilliant short story to which, why not, everyone might relate to.🌟🌟🌟🌟
THE HOUSEMAID, by Freida McFadden
The second book I read by this author, and my opinion has been confirmed: I have already seen it/read it all!🌟🌟
Happy reading to you all, and if you want to take a look at previous editions, just click the link below or go to the blog home page.
I think we skipped a week of posting and, not to use the usual excuse but I was busy. And also in a freaking pissing mood!
Friday things went relatively smoothly and on target till Ada, the gremlins, decided to chew my arm weights and drag them along the corridor upstairs, leaving deep black marks all over the white carpet. Not the end of the world. The stains came off easily with some elbow greese and bleach; just a pity it was that one time every 10 years I decided to apply red nail polish to my fingernails. I know, I should have known better and stuck with the usual transparent nail varnish. In the same way, I should have known better than to double-check daughter number one’s plans for the weekend and to refrain from losing it with her over the phone. Still, I was determined not to let her ruin my mood or my enthusiasm for my day out in town on the Saturday; her father had, in fact, already succeeded in that.
Afternoon show at the theatre followed by drinks and dinner. All planned and booked since October. That was the plan and all my household has been informed largely in advance and, repeatedly reminded in the last couple of weeks. That said, you can understand my conflicting feelings when on Friday morning I received a text from the traveling husbnad with details about the coming Saturday whiskey club. I double checked the dates, just in case we were talking about different Saturdays, but… nope, he was supposed to go to his whiskey club right on the Saturday I was supposed to go to the theatre. Right on the Saturday, I booked my day off as early as 4 months previously, right on the Saturday I reminded him just the day before I was away. Under normal circumstances, one thing wouldn’t interfere with the other, but daughter number two was working that Saturday and someone had to drop her off and collect her. I reminded him that in my reply text, which was followed by complete radio silence and the attempt to pass his text as pure information, in case I was interested in going. Seriously????!!!!?????
Finally, here it comes Saturday, and….of course I woke up feeling like s..t. Something I ate the previous evening didn’t agree with my stomach, plus my sinusitis was killing me. Buscopan, antihistamines, nasal spray, all dosed up and determined to have fun anyway, I headed to the train station. No trains on the day due to work on the railway. Unbelievable!!!!!! ( well as you can imagine that was not the first word that popped into my mind!) After a brief discussion with my friend, we decided I would only have one drink and drive us into town.
The show was very nice, a pity I had to keep my eyes closed for half the time because the air conditioning was shooting right at me, giving my already burning eyes the final straw. Dinner was nice, we had a lovely chat, and I did my best to make my first and only drink last till she finished her third one.
Once back home, relatively early and completely sober, out of desperation for the failure of my day out, I went straight to bed, dreaming of the relaxing Sunday awaiting me. Some good had to come right? It was not like the entire weekend could fail me. I had nothing on that Sunday, and I was determined not to get out of my PJs before 12. The plan was accomplished. I was in fact still in my PJs at 11.00am, when, after a panicky brief drive, I arrived at the dog park after two total strangers, one after the other, rang me saying my dog was wandering around the car park. What????? The traveling husbnad was supposedly walking the dogs. Or should I say the dog, Gino, because Ada was letting a couple of strangers cuddle her when I arrived. Thankfully, she threw herself at me when she saw me because the couple was definitely reluctant to let her go with an evidently distressed woman in PJs and crooks. In the end, they were happy enough with me being the actual owner of the dog, or maybe they were just fed up waiting for my husband, who they called too, and who said he was on his way…20 minutes previously.
Just the time for Ada to drop mud all over me and the travelling husband with Gino on the lead materialised on the horizon. A clear expression of surprise and confusion was printed on my husband’s face. What was going on? Why was I there? What was all the fuss?
“She would have waited for me at the car, you know?!” he then said, and just like that, it was not him who lost his dog, it was me, unnecessarily panicking.
I have been following dear Ivor for years, and he never fails to bring me joy and warmth with his verses so….Sit back, relax and enjoy the chat.
O: From chemist to plumber to poet (well, not just poet but published poet). Who is Ivor?
I: Wow… who am I? I suppose it all goes back to my family heritage. We’re good old convict stock from the Port Arthur penal colony in Tasmania in the 1840s.
My great‑great‑grandfather survived that harsh institution, and here I am — a descendant carrying his resilience, stubbornness, and persistence.
I grew up in a loving, hard‑working family. Dad was a plumber, and Mum was a nurse. I excelled in maths and science at school and went on to become an industrial chemist. I married Carole when I was 25 years old. Three years later, my dad became very ill, so I left my job, became his apprentice, and ran the plumbing business.
After seven wonderful years of marriage, Carole developed MS, and I became her full‑time carer and a part‑time plumber. Eventually, something had to give, and I had a stroke at 49. During speech and writing rehab, with the encouragement of my therapist, I started writing little rhymes. She nudged me toward a local writers’ group — and from little things, big things grew.
O: How did you land on WordPress?
I: I’m still not entirely sure! I think it was my niece Kerri, who lives in Philadelphia. I used to email her my poems, and one day she said, “Hey, Uncle Ivor, why don’t you start a blog for your poems?” Everything snowballed from there.
O: What’s your writing routine?
I: Routine? What’s that! I write anytime, anywhere. But most often you’ll find me scribbling away in my favourite café.
O:How does a poem form for you? Do you have a process?
I: I’m not sure what’s inside my head. I’m basically an observational and visual poet. Wherever I am, I like to photograph what’s happening around me, and those visual prompts often spark the beginnings of a poem.
O: I know from “knowing” you for a few years now that your writing comes from difficult times , yet there is joy and serenity in it. Are you an optimist?
I: Yes, I’ve been through some tough times. But my dear wife Carole, who lived with severe MS for 30 years, greeted me with an “everlasting smile” every day. Together, we always looked forward to the next day with quiet optimism.
O: What’s your relationship with the WordPress community?
I: I’ve made many wonderful friends through WordPress, and I often email some of them personally. Even better, I’ve been lucky enough to meet a few in real life.
O: Ivor and the technology, how’s that going? And what about social media?
I: Technology can be overwhelming. I’ll be 75 in July, and I’ve only had a computer for about 20 years. I mostly bumble and fumble my way through. I do have Facebook and Instagram, but I mainly use them as extra places to share my poetry.
O: What’s your take on AI?
I: AI is an interesting concept. I use Copilot to help with punctuation, photo captions, and intros — I failed English at school — and sometimes to create a feature image for my WordPress posts.
O: Ever tired of the Australian sun? I mean, I live in Ireland, I can’t really imagine having the sun shining all year round. Well, not even all day around for that matter, actually.
I: As I’m answering this, it’s a cloudless 27°C, and tomorrow will be a hot 40°C. I’m definitely no snow‑bunny.
O: Are you an avid reader? And what’s your favourite genre?
I: I used to be an avid reader before my first stroke 25 years ago. These days, I’m always busy writing, and everything takes me longer. By the time I finish my writing and blogging, I’m usually too tired to read.
O: And now a few personal ones:
a. Coffee or tea?
I: Coffee — especially at the Box Office Café. I’ll be having one there shortly.
b. Sweet or savoury?
I: The tooth‑fairies left me with a ravenous sweet tooth.
O: and oh sweet(tooth) boy, if I can relate!!!!!!!
c. Cows or horses?
I: When I walk Frankie past the horse paddock, the horses seem to think Frankie is a very small horse… and Frankie thinks, “Wow, that’s a very big dog!”
O: That’s very funny, I love it.
Sadly, our chat came to an end , so dear Ivor, thank you for being with me today and up to you to say goodbye to the readers your way.
I: As is my way, I’ll finish with a favourite piece of music: Lisa O’Neill – Come Sit Sing (Live at Other Voices Festival 2013).
That is all for now, have a glorious day you all and don’t miss the next episode. And if in the meantime you want to catch up with the previous chats, just go to :
