I still remember the day I saw the poster to become a Host Parent hanging on the oddly placed community notice board at Aberfoyle Hub. I say oddly placed because it was near the toilets, but I suppose, I always did stop to read it - so perhaps it was correctly placed...

Today is Wednesday. Which means it's Cleaning Day in the Writer's Cottage. It is also Christmas Eve. So, I am cleaning on Christmas Eve. Which is very - normal.

Digital photography has changed the way we snap our photos. My wife takes photos, many photos and I cry, ‘The cost, the cost, the cost! What about the cost of film and development?’ But she laughs, and says, ‘This is the digital age, don’t you know.’ and continues on her way happily snapping. If the snaps aren’t good she just deletes them and that is that.

Kylie reflects on the loss of her long-time cafe sanctuary, and the struggle to find her creativity again in a new space.

‘Look that’s a lizard isn’t it, sitting on the guide’s shoulder?’ The children stared in fascination and amazement, having never seen such a creature before. Drago is an Inland Bearded Dragon and looks like a miniature dinosaur. He doesn’t look very handsome and is downright fearsome when he puffs out his and body and beard.

We’re so excited to have Sharon joining us again to deliver our next Baby & Child First Aid Course on Tuesday November 18th at 6:30pm at First Aid Training Group Ballarat.

Visiting Culloden Battlefield became a profound spiritual moment that changed how I see the world. A story of grief, ancestry, and God’s quiet presence.

A heartfelt reflection of the masks we wear to hide our pain, and how God calls us to live unmasked and truly known.

I grew up dreaming of robots and rockets. Now I’m watching humanity step into its own sci-fi story.

I don't like ranting online. Let's get that cleared up. But lately, I’ve been seeing something that really bothers me, and as someone who’s been writing fanfiction since the days of dancing to dial-up internet tones, I’ve got a few thoughts.

My daughter, Diane, found a picture of a patchwork quilt and loved it, many years ago. The feature of the quilt consists of twelve crocheted squares, twelve inches square. Diane did not crochet but I did and so I made the squares for her.

From the Jesus Revolution at Flinders Uni to teaching in remote South Australia, Alison Laslett shares her heartfelt journey of faith, calling, and classroom adventures — a story steeped in courage, kindness, and God’s gentle guidance.

A heartfelt reflection on the span of eighty years compared with eternity, and how our choices shape where we spend forever. Gwen reminds us that five months of prayer and church in a lifetime is not enough — true life is found in a living relationship with Christ, who offers us everything as joint heirs with Him.

A heartfelt Tea & Whiskers reflection on living with chronic pain, the difference between despair and depression, and how Pilgrim’s Progress and Acts 16 remind us that God’s promises are the key out of Doubting Castle.

A reflective Thursday Brew with Gwen about her 1978 writing class — faith, free will, and why God allows suffering. A testimony of how everyday encounters can strengthen faith and inspire writing.

Set against the vast Australian outback, Gwen’s short story follows Jacki, a girl raised in secrecy by a boundary rider. When tragedy strikes, her hidden identity unravels, leading to a powerful moment of survival, revelation, and hope.

One of my students reminded me recently how thrilling it can be to wait for a new tv episode week by week. Experiencing the story unfolding alongside millions of others. It made me reflect on my own moments of being swept up in stories, and how they’ve really shaped my understanding of different medias, and helped forge my love of storytelling.

Margaret grew up in Adelaide and followed God’s call through nursing, midwifery, and the outback. From needle arts to outback tours, she and her husband Quentin built a life of love, faith, and service—rooted in family and God’s enduring goodness.

Reading was my passion, and winning a Red Cross competition at school set me on a path that would last throughout my life. The book I won was about one of the first nursing posts established at Innamincka by Rev. John Flynn and his dream of helping people in the bush.

This may seem like something very small, and not at all worthy of commenting on, but often I think progress is the accumulation of tiny, little triumphs and not so much the great, magnificent trophy.