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So the dreamhouse ain’t ALL good

Writer's picture: Jenny WynterJenny Wynter

Did I mention we have construction workers doing their thing every single day on the house next door?

It’s the only bad thing about moving into this palace, namely cos:

1. I have to resist the urge to perve on said workers, being a lady and all. So I tend to spend a vast majority of my day squinting.

2. It’s incredibly difficult to get kids to sleep when there’s a radio up full ball and walls being pulled to the ground, right outside their window. Somehow “Shhhhh! It’s just like a lullaby. See? Hush little baby don’t say a…” CRASH!!!!!!!!!! just doesn’t cut it.

3. I loathe, I repeat, LOATHE the idea of swimming in the pool with all these young to middle aged dudes in sight. Or more to the point, me being in their sight. So I’m forced to ditch the leopard print swimsuit and instead wear this:


I am, after all, a lady.

Though the cod-piece might beg to differ.


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I acknowledge the Gubbi Gubbi, Wakka Wakka and Butchulla peoples, the First Nation Traditional Owners of Country, and custodians of the land and waters on which I live and work, and all the peoples who have welcomed me on Country. I pay respects to all Elders past and present and acknowledge the young leaders who are working beside Elders in our cultural industries in the continuation of cultural, spiritual and educational practices. I recognise all First Nation peoples as the original storytellers of these lands and acknowledge the important role they continue to play in our community.

Jenny Wynter

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