toast for tea

It’s a Monday morning and I’ve just finished eating a breakfast of fresh fruit and yoghurt; bacon and eggs, tomato and pan-fried mushrooms; a freshly baked croissant with strawberry jam; and at least three cups of brewed coffee. The big band sound of muted trumpets and the voice of Frank Sinatra wafts overhead. I never have coffee for breakfast. Nor, I don’t think, have I ever eaten mushrooms this early in the day. But then I don’t usually start my day off in the dining room of the local motel. It’s a far cry from my usual routine of muesli and yoghurt eaten on the run between trips to the station and bus stop with teenagers. And today I feel displaced. The dining room is opulent. White table cloths, a waiter in black, cushioned wicker chairs, remarkably real-looking fake palm trees. Business people arrive for breakfast meetings; a young couple lean in towards each other, deep in conversation; there is applause from a conference room to the side. It feels surreal, me here on my own

Yes, it’s true. The Word Spy is back. She snuck in by bus, train and plane without anyone noticing. And shhh, don’t tell, but she’s uncovered a heap of fascinating facts about words. Reading The Word Spy was adventure enough, but this time the trail takes some tricky twists and turns through language itself. A lot of snooping goes on, I can tell you. The Word Spy’s torch illuminates the origins of language, different types of languages – dead ones and new ones – sign language and Braille. There’s even a real Braille page in the book to run your fingers over! She talks about “the language of the road” and the symbols that swaggies used in case there were angry dogs about.  From babble to Chomsky, over-extension to metaphors and similes, you can be guaranteed the Word Spy has unearthed a fine selection of language peculiarities with her pick – and explained her findings with humour and intrigue. But there’s more.  Nouns, verbs, adjectives, subjects and objects. Don’t worry, the Word

Marvin and Violet are best friends. They’re like socks and shoes, salt and pepper, two peas in a pod. That’s what Mum reckons. Violet reckons Marvin is Marvellous, so that’s what she calls him. Wolf, Violet’s dog, and Marvin’s chook, T Rex are best friends, too. Being next door neighbours on Raven Street is loads of fun, especially when Violet has a jumping castle and octopus in her back yard, a train in her lounge room and a ghost in her kitchen. But one day Violet has some disturbing news. We are moving, Marvellous. We are going to the moon. Chris McKimmie has produced another pearl. Using his trademark Dylan and Blake font, naive illustrations, magical thinking and understated subtext, there is something to chuckle at or ponder on every page. Like its predecessors, this is a book that can be returned to time and again, each subsequent read revealing extra levels of meaning. McKimmie’s clever use of symbolism may not be apparent to the young child, but the overall effect is powerfu