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About Me
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 WHAT'S ON THIS PAGE? UPDATED OCT 2007 I am a 41 year old Australian woman with a fiery mix of Danish and Celtic extraction. I have been an activist for abused women, one way or another, for almost 20 years, culminating in the co-authoring and publishing of my book, Real Rape, Real Pain: Help for Women Sexually Assaulted by Male partners..
 Some years ago, I recognized that the dynamics between a woman and a batterer or rapist actually translate also to the abuse and tyranny inflicted against whole countries and minority groups by dictators. My focus broadened to include human rights as a whole. I've been active in working with asylum seekers, and women who have survived horrific war experiences. I have met some of the most beautiful people it's been my pleasure to know through this.
My 'first cause' remains abused women, however. I love assisting women in healing, and I will have to be carried out in a pine-box before I am silent about injustices to them!
I studied and gained an Associate Diploma in Welfare. I have worked in mental health, which entailed counselling with battered women and survivors of rape/child sexual abuse. I've been a Domestic Violence court support worker. I've been active in many projects and had the honour of leading the first march against sexual violence in my hometown.
I am passionate, but I like to think that over the years, this has become tempered (not diminished) with some caution about how, and where I put my energy out.
Current activities include, but are not limited to, having the honour of helping moderate the wonderful Pandora's Aquarium message board, through which I've made some beautiful friendships.
I have a sense of humour, but need to remind myself to use it from time.One of my best traits is generosity, and I hope when I die it will be said of me that I have truly loved humanity. My worst traits would need another webpage! I intend to go to school next year and get professional qualifications in web-design, which I love. I look back on the year past with mixed feelings. In April 2006, I answered the door to the police. My lovely son, Nicholas had been burned so badly he was being airlifted to Melbourne and was in a coma. Visits like that are, I am sure, every parent's nightmare. For 10 days, we didn't know if he'd pull through or not, but he did- thank God for the wonderful team of doctors and nurses on the the Alfred hospital ICU and Burns team in Melbourne, they brought my baby boy back to us. Burns are the damned gift that goes on giving; infections, constant organ monitoring, drastic, no, horrifying weight-loss...everything hangs in such a delicate balance after such a tremendous physical assault as burns. I never knew, and I do now .Special thanks must also go to Dr. Fiona Wood, without whose work around burns victims, Nick would never have got the treatments that ensured he healed so well. I will never be able to describe what it was like to get a kiss through his oxygen mask when he woke. My heart honestly breaks for parents whose kids don't make it. We are so lucky, and people were so KIND to us; it was amazing. I had to leave my little kids, Suzy and Finn, in the care of my older kids, Darryl and Christina, who did a sterling job. Friends and neighbours came out of the woodwork everywhere with constant food and other help for them. My beautiful co-author and friend Patricia Easteal and my simply wonderful Pandora's Aquarium community raised sufficient money to accommodate my husband and I in an apartment close to the hospital for more than two weeks (I was there for three until my little Finn broke his arm!), to say nothing of the constant stream of care-packages from around the world - from beautiful blankets to American and Scottish sweets and books to cheer my littlies up. That's the sort of thing one can never repay, and it makes me emotional to type it. Incidentally after my Nick had been out of hospital for 2 weeks, his very best childhood friend was killed. So I guess it's not exactly a year that he will look back on with undiluted joy, either. I'm proud of his courage; you know, he was out of hospital a couple of days and we went shopping for a TV and he didn't give a shit about his scars. And I remember that a nurse apologized in hospital for doing something to him that was a bit uncomfortable, and he said "meh, go crazy":). I hope we may safely say that Nick has been "predisastered" for awhile. He had his 19th birthday, and we bought him a beautiful pendant of a Phoenix rising from the flames (which I couldn't stop crying over when I chose it).
Actually, you know what's really funny? I woke a few months back to hear the cops yelling up the stairs of my home. Because I'm still a bit traumatized, I thought, "not my Nicky" and got out of bed to answer them. They said our van had been broken into. My response? "Ohhh Thank GOD!" They looked quizzically at me, and I straightened up from sagging against the wall with relief to explain them I wasn't thanking the Almighty the van was broken into, I was thanking him that it wasn't about my son! So, it was great to have a book launch in September '06 to look forward to. My 40th birthday was spent meeting my gorgeous co-author for the first time, and having dinner with friends and family the day before my launch. What a way to spend it and the greatest gifts is that Nick was there. If you'd like a look, here are some pictures of the launch. Then in December and Jaunuary I got two lovely grandchildren, Tyson Nicholas and Evelyn Elizabeth. Lately, I feel very strongly about the rise of anti-Semitism - it has always been with us, but - perhaps it's just me; it seems to be getting markedly worse. Time for a rant: I once naively thought that the sort of hatred and odious mythology that saw 6 million murdered had been put down 60 years ago at Nuremberg. I was wrong and I hope that Jewish visitors will forgive my goy-centric and sheltered ignorance. There are people today who are glad the Holocaust happened and want another one; these mongrel dogs proudly broadcast their sickness all over the internet. This hatred also takes the form of Holocaust denial (Can you imagine going through Auschwitz and being told you made it up?? The bloody cruelty inherent in this makes me so angry I feel sick.) by loser swastika tattooed "skinheads" or psuedoacademics trying to gain credibility for spreading this shit.. We MUST NOT sit on our hands - indifference was one reason the Nazis were able to perptrate what they did. Two websites I recommend if you are interested in looking further at this for yourself: Deborah Lipstadt's blog and the Nizkor Project. MY FAMILY
I'm married to a terrific bloke, and I have five children ranging in ages from 24 down to 7. Gahh, I hear you say, hasn't she heard of the pill? It's true that it's very very busy and drives me up the wall sometimes but I would not swap one of my children for anything. Some of my strongest influences have been powerful mothers of five - they include my playwright grandmother, my favourite university lecturer and my counsellor - fine women all.
It quite amuses me when I have been called a 'man-hater'. It's sheer nonsense that I never bother justifying, but the size of my family proves I've obviously liked them well enough (wink)! Plus,I have three lovely grandkids.
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