Author Archives: bkpyett

About bkpyett

Barbara is a budding writer, with her first published children's book, 'Lily's Wish'. Retired in country Victoria, her husband, Christopher, is a full time painter and Barbara is consumed with a garden and her writing activities.

Hats, Children’s picture book

Today my picture book arrived! It was very exciting as we’ve been told parcels are taking longer due to lockdown and Covid. Austin Macauley sent bookmarks, pamphlets, books, all ready to launch when lockdown finishes. It will be rather low-key but a thrill never the less.

I’ve also learned that in Australia the book is available through Dymocks, Booktopia and Amazon. The postage from the UK is very expensive, so these options make it more accessible. I haven’t learned how to add photo, so shall have to relearn how to blog!

Thanks for reading!


Recently released children’s book, ‘Hats’

Barbara Pyett’s background is as a special education teacher. For the last two decades she has been a writer living in Victoria, Australia. She shares her fantasy world with her childhood friend and partner. They unite in their fascination for dreams which germinate ideas for stories. Barbara writes as Christopher paints. Their idyllic life-style has been enhanced with nine grandchildren, who continue to inspire further stories.

Barbara’s first children’s book, Lily’s Wish, was published by New Frontier Publishers in 2011. It is an early childhood Christmas picture book. Lily lives in the UK and writes to Santa asking for wings, so that she can fly. She misses her Grandmother in Australia and wants to be able to fly to visit her.

Hats, an early childhood picture book, released on 30 September 2021 by Austin Macauley. This children’s book of poems was inspired by the game of hats she played with her own children. The game includes all age groups which in itself  becomes a learning tool for little ones to increase their vocabulary. Hats is illustrated by Vinh Tran with quirky, vibrant illustrations which are anime inspired.

Review for Hats

Barbara’s Children’s book, Hats, portrays, with engaging illustrations, options for children to choose from when asked the question, ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’ The fun aspect for kids in this rhyming story is the focus on hats. Kids love to wear hats when they dress up and this story will inspire their imaginations and conversations about the variety of roles people play in society.

Janice Lawrence

B.Ed. M.Ed.

Review for Hats 

In this sprightly, nimble and gently amusing book, Barbara Pyett explores the realm of adult vocation from the point of view of the young child. Euphonious and instructive, her rhymed stanzas are both memorable and playful.

The list of occupations is prefaced by the question,’When I grow up what shall I be?’

This is a perfect springboard into the domain of work – each vocation seen through the lens of its characteristic hat.

This hat motif gives the book its consistency and playfulness, as it draws the child into an assortment of roles, enabling them to role-play the part they see unfolding.

Pyett’s use of rhyme is delightful, and functions as an aid to the child’s memory, as well as instructively showing them opportunities and pathways that may lie ahead. At every stage we sense the equality of diverse roles in society.

Pyett also very subtly brings in the theme of climate change and its ravages. Her characters are seen as doing their utmost to mitigate fire and flood.

From builder to princess, from baker to vet, from sea captain to gardener, and from doctor or nurse to apiarist and teacher, the verse covers an expansive scope, leading at the end of the book to a suggested game for children to play, thus giving them through hats a costume play and reason to dream of the future.

Hats is illustrated by the whimsical Vinh Tran, whose pictures complement in their freshness and humour the same qualities in Pyett’s verse.

Lucy Wilks

Poet and musician

Foreverbear, is Pyett’s next early childhood picture book, release date, yet to be announced. This book is also being published by Austin Macauley and reflects on the loss of a grandparent.

A child relates her sorrow with her teddy bear who finds he can talk. They share memories remembering the good times.

Love is Blind

After gardening I notice some annoying bumps on the back of my hand. My first instinct is to worry in case they are warts.

Next day, at breakfast, I observe the rash appears less inflamed; it must be the result of something I’ve touched in the garden.

I say to Joe, ‘Feel this, what do you think it is?’

‘Braille, it says, “I Love You”, but it’s missing the comma.’

‘But ‘I Love You,’ doesn’t need a comma.’

‘Then it says, ‘immensely and deeply!’

How can I worry about a few bumps after such an interpretation?


The heart, the organ donned in electric pinks and vibrant reds for Valentines Day, encourage so many poets to write verse. What a lot of fuss. Frieda and her husband don’t follow this tradition.

In her teenage years there were times when she was aware of her heart racing; with the excitement and the agitation of love that sent her rhythm into presto and appassionato. Not just in her teenage years, she supposes, though it all seems so long ago. In that state of high alert, she did stupid things that she’d rather forget. She and Helen Young sat together in Grade Four. They both fell for the new boy, Walter Wright, who sat directly behind them. He wore long trousers. None of the other boys did. It made him seem so grown up. Helen and Frieda went down to Coles and pooled their money to buy him a 1/6 d watercolour paint set. They secretly wrapped it and placed it in his desk for Valentine’s Day. They never knew if he ever guessed who had put it there.

Frieda feels she’s been oblivious for decades to the selfless dedication of her pumping heart. It’s reliable ticking, like a metronome, continuing  without payment or praise. Those memories from the past are best forgotten. She should pay more attention to the present and to her time signature of adagio and even adagissimo.

Now in her eighth decade an occasional twinge will remind her that life is finite. Should she give up rich and sumptuous foods to ease the burden on her heart? No, life is to be lived to the full, with that she gives thanks to the universe. When the metronome stops, she’ll be grateful to have lived a full and happy life.


<a href=””>Expectation</a>


Barbara Pyett                                                                           February 2017



A break from routine allows the richness of conversation and shared meals with family and friends; plus the unspoken: pulling weeds, mulching, fertilizing, children to stay, shopping, pruning, cooking, cleaning windows, general cleaning, washing, ironing, washing up, sweeping, picking fruit and vegetables, making jam and chutney, watering, stewing fruit for the freezer, reading, writing letters to those neglected at Christmas time and contemplating getting the year organized making a list to get things fixed.

The TV is on the blink. The solar hot water system needs replacing. The cement step from the absent spa must be removed. Gutters are choked. Solar panels need cleaning. The cubby needs fresh paint. The dishwasher died and needs replacing. Edging around the garden beds need attention since the lawns haven’t been mown. Incessant need of sweeping gum leaves from driveway, patio and paths. Lopping grevilleas and correas to maintain bushiness. Finally, book an appointment with the physio to restore use of shoulder.

‘What do you think caused this bursitis?’ Lachlan asks.

I resist giving him a blow by blow explanation.



‘You’re away with the fairies.’

This surprised me, as I believed I was an ordinary person. Perhaps when I was young I was a bit of a sylph and a little unworldly at times but I thought I’d grown up and left that behind. Continuing to think, I realized not everyone dreams. Maybe she was right.


Dreams are a very big part of my life. So far, flying dreams have been hard work. Flapping my arms is exhausting. It would be wonderful to fly effortlessly. Just to float, relax and enjoy the sensation without strain.


Today’s prompt, ‘float’, is what I’ll do in preparation for sleep and may be it will happen.

<a href=””>Float</a>

Rosalie Blum: film review


Yesterday, being another hot day, the air-conditioning of the cinema tempted me to see a film I’d heard about.


‘Rosalie Blum’ is a delightful French film. Having actors who appeared normal rather than super stars is one of the reasons I love French cinema. They appear so believable and make it easier for me to relate to the story.


This story is set in a village in France. It starts with the character, Vincent, who has friends, but lives a lonely life. His mother is a manipulating person and it takes time for him to finally stand up to her. He becomes obsessed with Rosalie Blum, another lonely person.

That sounds pretty straight forward, but it isn’t that simple.

Rather than give away the plot, I’d love to hear from others who may have seen this thought provoking film.


<a href=””>Tempted</a>


Renewal looks a strange word; it looks like three words in one.

I’m procrastinating…

If you are feeling your age, I’ve just read a book you might enjoy.

It is about a widow and widower who cross an invisible societal line in their small community. They feel that they’ve reached the age where they don’t care what others think.

‘Our Souls at Night’ is written by Kent Haruf. If you’re feeling you need to change your life in some way or just need a good read, this is the book for you. Haruf writes about two people in their seventies who find love and friendship with poignancy, charm and believability.

<a href=””>Renewal</a&gt;

The Christmas Star

Last year our seven-year-old grandson gave us a beautiful ornate glass star that looks like crystals in a chandelier if you focus your eyes correctly. This year I asked Chris to hang it above the tree.

Beginning with the ruler, measuring meticulously in one direction and then the other, he proceeded to find a spot in the high raked ceiling for the hook.

Fighting to penetrate the hard wood, finally the hook was in place.
Climbing down the ladder, Chris heard his father’s voice in his head say, ‘Don’t worry sport, you can move the tree!’

This is exactly what he would have said.