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- Fly, Road, Rail – A trip north, west, south, east then north again – We head off January 2, 2023
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- Time, Memory & Identity (Part 3) + The Sense of an Ending – book Review March 2, 2022
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Irene Waters
Irene Waters 19 Writer Memoirist
I began my working career as a reluctant potato peeler whilst waiting to commence my training as a student nurse. On completion I worked mainly in intensive care/coronary care; finishing my hospital career as clinical nurse educator in intensive care. A life changing period as a resort owner/manager on the island of Tanna in Vanuatu was followed by recovery time as a farmer at Bucca Wauka. Having discovered I was no farmer and vowing never again to own an animal bigger than myself I took on the Barrington General Store. Here we also ran a five star restaurant. Working the shop of a day 7am - 6pm followed by the restaurant until late was surprisingly more stressful than Tanna. On the sale we decided to retire and renovate our house with the help of a builder friend. Now believing we knew everything about building we set to constructing our own house. Just finished a coal mine decided to set up in our backyard. Definitely time to retire we moved to Queensland. I had been writing a manuscript for some time. In the desire to complete this I enrolled in a post grad certificate in creative Industries which I completed 2013. I followed this by doing a Master of Arts by research graduating in 2017. Now I live to write and write to live.
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Tag Archives: 3LineTales
Dancing: Three Line Tales
Tennis bores me but I love to watch the dance. Graceful, athletic. How they can bend from the waist, doubling over on themselves. Holding their ankles. How I’d tried to do this and failed. I don’t know why they go … Continue reading
A Dark Day: Three Line Tales
A black cloud of methane gas hung over the city, threatening its existence. The residents hid indoors breathing through wet hankies. The authorities searched for the source. “Sanititation officer 32CK338 here. I’ve found a s crush of cows and the … Continue reading
The Journey: Three Line Tales
The officials were herding them like cattle and like sheep they followed, into the train carriages that were at the siding waiting. The whistle blew and steam hissed as the train picked up speed. Gemma smiled. She’d always wanted to … Continue reading
A changing World: Three Line Tales
“My generation had it the best; post war, a life of peace, labour saving devices, no need to lock the back door or for helicopter parenting. Simple pleasures. Those were the days. No soldiers mingling in the crowds” “But Ma, … Continue reading
Vision: Three Line Tales
Juliet’s friends warned her but she laughed them off. It was common practice to date off the internet. Now, she stared nervously at their meeting place. Her stomach clenched. Dread invaded her bones. She fought flight. ‘Dam,’ she thought, ‘the … Continue reading
Ostriches: Three Line Tales
“Don’t be like ostriches; for heavens sake pull your heads out and let’s talk about what we are going to do about our ice flows melting and how we’ll cope with climate change.” One turned and faced him with a … Continue reading
The Beast: Three Line Tales
The doorway looked like a friendly face but despite this I was nervous as I inserted the key into the padlock that restrained the thing that was captive behind it. Pitch black met me as I made my way inside … Continue reading
Cut and Colour: Three Line Tales
A layer of snow covered the ground when I emerged and I watched others, better prepared than I, continue to act as though this was just another day. Their coats seem to be protecting them from the elements but … Continue reading
The muster: Three Line Tales Wk 95
At daybreak the jackeroos had the cattle moving. “A weeks too long to go without a stubby.” Clive’s voice was lost in the thunder of hooves; “only one more day.” A horse reared. A snake struck. Another horse spooked. The … Continue reading
The stain: Three Line Tales, week 94
Dirty plates filled the kitchen sink. The pots sat in the laundry tub. Sarah donned rubber gloves but the wall stains caught her eye. ‘That’s me’ she thought, ‘a blot on the female gender. She started to sketch.”Bugger. No time … Continue reading
Reflections and Nightmares- Irene A Waters (writer and memoirist) 