Angela Bensted

The Blog

This is where I practise

American life

March 3, 2017
Girls Indianapolis

Nearly 18 years ago The Husband and I gave away our dog, sold our rusty car, stored our few bits of furniture under friends’ houses and took two toddlers across the planet to live in America. He wanted to do some advanced training with world experts in his field. So he called on his connections and wrote…

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Lucky one

February 15, 2017
Chelsea sick

I went to a funeral today where everyone wore pink; pink dresses, pink ribbons, pink ties. At the end of the service a woman in black gently lifted a cream-coloured coffin by herself, cradling it in her arms as she carried it to the back of the chapel. Then the pastor pushed a button on his lectern…

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January 30, 2017

Roger Federer has just won the Australian Tennis Open, his 18th grand slam victory and his first tournament since taking six months off to recover from a knee injury. He’s 35-years-old. Ancient. Hearts bleed for his opponent, Raphael Nadal, who displayed more courage in the game and grace in defeat than the entire new crop of men’s hopefuls…

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(Almost) Daily Notes

Punching bag-2

Punching bag

August 21, 2017

My name’s Angela and I sell things online. Not for the money, just to offload stuff. I’m a chucker and there’s not a sentimental bone in my body. Soft toy you’ve had since infancy? Binned. School magazine collection from the 1970s? Consider it compost. The Husband is afraid to stand still in case I size…

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What kitchen?

August 21, 2017

Anybody would think the fridge had broken or the stove had gone kaput. I haven’t cooked all weekend. We’ve had cheese platters and take-away Thai food and explored the suburbs looking for an afternoon coffee. Tonight we should have eaten left-over cheese and green chicken curry. Instead we picnicked at Mt Coot-Tha, picking up karage chicken…

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Bored games

August 20, 2017

The dog woke me this morning at seven with a bark, an old dog’s querulous protest at some passing shadow. The tan and white pup, a now-grizzled blend of spaniel, pug and papillon, is deaf and almost blind. Yet somehow the dog senses when his universe has been disturbed. Somewhere in our street something had moved. Since coming to this house, where the dog’s fee…

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