The Machinist's Wife

Galavanting

2012-01-24T00:19:00.000+11:00

The Machinist and I did a lot of gadding about during our Christmas break. We went on a few day trips around our region. I'm still grazing on the memories of drives we took in the new Land Rover Discovery. This is what it looks like:

What a pleasure to travel on hot days in a beautifully airconditioned car!

We went to the National Gallery of Australia:

The War Memorial:

The National Zoo and Aquarium:

We took a trip to the beach. Some of us swam, some paddled, some frolicked in rock pools and some, well - they just got sun burned.

Later in the Christmas break, the Machinist and I took a trip to Cooma, which is a town in the Snowy Mountains.

It wasn't snowing when we were there (ha!), and after passing through we descended the Brown Mountain, and spent the night at a quaint Bed and Breakfast, which was and still is the General store and Post office called The Two Storey B & B at Central Tilba

But... the one place that I truly adore and even dream about was the culmination of our travels, namely, the one and only Foxglove Spires Garden at Tilba Tilba.

What can I say? You can read more here.

I am truly besotted, especially as I read the creator and owner of the garden, Sue Southam's book: Velvet Pears.

And so, to bed! Where I can read more of these beautiful pages, and perhaps even dream of them!

Bittersweet

2012-01-18T17:24:00.002+11:00

Life is oftentimes bittersweet. The realisation that we had to close our beloved Pie Shop, The Daily Pie was one of those bitter times. While we packed and cleaned we had a constant knot in our throats. One day, Sarah and I went up to the shop, intending to take pictures and write descriptions for the sale of equipment. (I had been up there previously, alone on a few occasions, just wanting to 'think'. I was adjusting myself to the prospect of no longer having the shop). As she approached the pie display fridge, (which we endeavoured to keep choc-full of ample pies, beautifully arranged) she took a step back and declared "...it feels like I'm selling my soul.."

This little heart-declaration caused us to postpone the photo session until... well.....we still haven't returned for that, but we will.

There is so much that goes on behind the scenes in the hospitality industry. I knew straight from the start, that we would never have been as successful if it wasn't for the help of a VERY DEAR FRIEND of ours, fondly known as "Cheffy". He helped us regularly, without return or promise of return. He is generous of heart, methodical, punctual, reliable - a perfectionist and a true gentleman. The unsung hero (to us, anyway).

And so, it is farewell to the old, as the promise of something new breeds unpredicted, yet sweet excitement!

Our Pet Family

2012-01-04T01:00:00.005+11:00

I can't believe four months have past since my last post!

Wilson is a big boy now. He has a friend; also a poddy lamb which we raised to be his companion. Wilson's friend is Leo. Wilson, we've learned, is a Merino lamb and Leo is a Border lester cross. They eat and eat and eat in the paddock at the side of our house. They are truly 'Fat Lambs'. Somewhere in the paddock lies two lambs tails and two gonad sacks. The Machinist jokes about finding these body parts and using them to spur his lads into action, should they ever become slack while at work in the factory. The lads just laugh about the Machinist's threats, as they know his task of finding said parts would be like finding needles in a haystack.

In other pet news, my lovely Lilly - a Schnauzer cross Pug has been fatally mauled by Polly, our Staffy cross Silky. We were all out at the time of the alpha-female power struggle and poor Sarah had to come home to the end of the battle. We rushed Lilly to the vet, and all was looking good "No news is good news", the local vet advised our Sarah. And then, around 9.30pm that night, there was a phone call...

I still can't get over it. I've never grieved a dog like I do Lilly.

There is MUCH more news, but the Machinist is calling me to bed. We hope to visit Jenolan Caves tomorrow with the rest of my lovely family and we're hoping to make an early start (well, as early as one would like to call early while on holiday. Our first in three years).

More later....

RIP, my lovely Lilly xx

A Woolly Distraction

2011-08-05T00:16:00.000+10:00

In our quest to solve the lack of signage on the local section of the Highway to advertise The Daily Pie, the girls door knocked roadside landowners who may be prepared to 'lease' us a section of their land to erect a fixed sign. They also put notes in letterboxes, making their plea known.

A resounding 'yes' a couple of 'maybe's' as well as a few 'I'll have to think about its' were received and noted.

The Machinist and I went to visit the Farmer who was eager to help and who had given us full permission to check out his paddocks which run alongside the Highway, in order to find the best visual spot for passing traffic.

An Australian cattle dog met us, panting excitedly, running from the car back to his master on our arrival at the Homestead. The dog's master walked towards us, holding something long, floppy, bloody and covered with amniotic (glue like) fluid. "This is Julius, named after Julias Caeser, as I've just delived him by caeserean section. I had to put the mother down, as the crows had been at her backside and she was in a really bad way..."

Said in the true spirit of Aussie nitty gritty-ness!

"You can have him if you want, but I don't want to get involved if you both disagree", he said, looking from me to the Machinist.

"We'll have to find a blanket or something, Babe" The Machinist didn't hesitate
"So it's affirmative on your part?"
"We need a sheep to keep the grass down in the paddock next door"
"Yeah, that's true"

In the meantime, the Farmer had nipped off to find an empty sack "You can put the lamb in here, as you carry him home. I'll just nip indoors to see if we have any spare poddy lamb teats"

And that, as they say, was that.

Wilson is kept in front of the fire, inside a make-shift 'play pen'. He bleats, drinks, sleeps, craps and pees. But we don't mind. It means that he is working perfectly!

Signage

2011-08-03T17:00:00.000+10:00

The Machinist had disappeared from his 'post' as pie filler and I wandered outside to see where he was and what he was doing, so that I could haul him back and chain him to the stainless steel bench. Alas, he was talking with a Highway Patrol officer. "Oh no!", I thought (the usual 'what's the matter now' feeling you get when any type of Policeman enters your premises, even though you're not guilty of anything he could possibly be there for). On closer earshot, I learned that we had been 'officially informed' that we were not allowed to put our signage for the pie shop out on the Highway.

And so now begins the tedious task of many communications with bureaucracy....

Good Help

2011-07-25T23:55:00.000+10:00

The Machinist helped us a LOT at the Pie shop over the weekend. He is so willing to help, but insists that we always have something for him to do 'next', as he despises waiting around. What's so cool about the Machinist helping out at the shop is that we get to have breakfast. Because the Machinist makes us breakfast.

We've discovered a new brand of DOUBLE smoked bacon for the pies, and always order a bit more for us. The Machinist was grilling the bacon for our new Brekkyinapie breakfast pie. After retrieving it from the oven, he cautiously picked up a rasher, held it above his head, lowering it into his mouth. Chewing and mumbling at the same time, he asked

"...Anyone else for Aussie spaghetti?..."

Fridges, Flights and Axes

2011-07-09T07:37:00.000+10:00

The Machinist is up early. He and Number One Son are going to Sydney to pick up a cold display fridge that I bid on and won. Usually, the Machinist and I do the Sydney trips together, as we consider them a bit of business and pleasure. Pleasure being the opportunity to EAT out. Today, however, I have to make pies. Lots of pies. If I'm good and actually finish making the pies the girls are going to let me go home, so that I can chisel away at the mound of paperwork currently sitting before me as I type.

My Mam and brother are going to the UK in four days time. I'm all nervous. For them, and for me. I don't want my Mam to be stressed and tired, or worry about anything (as she often does). I want her to be calm and peaceful and enjoy her visit with her sisters and my brothers. I'm hoping my brother doesn't get too tired with all the arrangements and responsibility of the care for both of them (he has Tetralogy of Fallot aka 'Blue Baby Syndrome'). And for me - well - I'm gonna miss them. Seven weeks is a long time. Oh, and the goodbyes.....

Grandpa will be staying home. At an impressive 85 years he doesn't fancy the trip. He will be coming into the cafe each day for his coffee(s) and looking after "Blossom", their 8 year old Pekingnese. Blossom will need a lot of care. Yesterday, our Sarah took her to the vet and she has a heart murmer, is acutely obese, has a tired liver and possibly, even doggy-diabetes. Grandpa assures us that he will NOT be chopping wood for his fire, and he will leave that to us. (Even though he secretly bought another axe when he handed over his rather large axe to us). Several trips to the outpatients, due to axe trauma doesn't really bother him. I'm convinced he has his fingers crossed behind his back when he promises he won't EVER chop wood again, nor seek 'kindling' on the hill behind his cottage.

All Creatures Great and Small

2011-07-07T00:04:00.000+10:00

We have a lot of windows at the front of the Cafe, and they are usually kept clean and sparkling. While this is pleasing to the eye, it's havoc for some of our wild birds, as they fly straight into the glass, knock themselves out and fall to the ground. Unconscious. Oftentimes, we scurry to find boxes for the concussed birds to lie in while they recover.

Last week, a brightly colourful Rosella collided with the glass and while he was recovering, his mate fluttered nervously around him. Eventually, they flew off together. Happily Ever After.

Standing at the sink and gazing sleepily out of the window, a movement, just below the windowsill caught my eye. A Grey Shrike-Thrush was fluttering and then lurching his tiny body at the two hot water tanks, servicing the kitchen and bathroom.

The Thrush would flutter, lurch and then land on top of the tanks, croon his head and peck....

"Would you like a cup of tea, Babe?" the Machinist asked as he clicked on the kettle. "What are you looking at?"

I pointed to the curious activity of our avian friend. "He's picking flies and bugs out of the cobwebs", the Machinist continued. "I watched him just the other day. See?"

Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they? Mathew 6:26 KJV

Disco, Disco, Disco

2011-07-05T23:47:00.000+10:00

We've been talking a lot about music and how our tastes vary. When we were young, back in the late 70's and early 80's, disco dancing were the 'moves' to be had. We love to tell our children how the floor was cleared as we strutted. Chilly's adaption of "For Your Love" (originally performed by The Yardbirds 1965 - not that I had heard of them) was, and still is, one of our all time favourites.

The Machinist confirmed this today. He took an early shower (brought on by the ferocious wind and rain) and came through to our home office, wrapped in a blue towel, looking somewhat like the Union Jack with his partly heat-scalded red and white (well, flesh coloured) torso. I watched his face light with recognition of the song and immediately he started to strut. And shuffle. And strut some more. And then, a few popular disco moves like "The Exit" and "The Mousehole", as well as "The lawn mower" and "The air hostess". It helped that the previous day we had checked out (and practiced) some sweet disco moves

Getting back to the group, "Chilly": - we didn't even know who they were or what they looked like. TV invaded homes in South Africa around 1975. There was only one channel and it was conservative, as expected. I sometimes think it was better that way, as music and rhythm and lyrics were loved (or hated) for what they were, not what they looked like, or the image they portrayed. After all, who, pray, could enjoy shimmering lycra, lots of pale blue eyeshadow and perfectly (page boy) styled hair worn by women (and men).

Nowadays, I often prefer remakes of older songs, as the older ones sound so 'tinny'. Take "Funky Town", performed by Lipps Inc, and later, performed by Psuedo Echo for example.

Ok, so now, I'm going to strut my stuff...

Yeah, Baby....

Not On My Lounge!

2011-07-04T00:03:00.000+10:00

A long time ago, when I was pregnant with my Emma-Lee, the Machinist and I went shopping for a bed. We came home with a brand new lounge and dining room suite, but no bed. We've kept both suites in immaculate condition over the years and are still in possession of them to this day. However, I've always longed for a leather lounge set; two doubles and two triple seaters, - in dark brown (of course). Earlier this year, the Machinist bought us a new leather lounge. To cut a long story short, the two two-seaters were taken to the Cafe, and placed in front of the combustion fire, to sit on and linger with a cup of coffee or hot chocolate.

Today, after the Machinist had put the Cafe signs out on the highway, we sat together with Sam, and his girl, Hayley. A young woman walked over to the leather lounges, plonked her baby down on one of them and proceeded to take the baby's pants off and change its nappy.

I couldn't take it any more. I had to get up and flee to the kitchen. This week, the two seaters will be removed from the Cafe and taken back home, where they belong.

We have no changing table. We have no parents room. It is a FOOD establishment. Whatever happened to changing your own child in your own car?

Which leads me to the next train of thought....

There are a lot of young women today - young mothers who carry on as if they are complete heroines for actually giving birth to and raising a child. Some of them think they can turn on fertility (or lack of it) like a light switch, at their own whim.

Mothers of old never abused this blessing of child bearing and rearing. They were honourable and would never impose their motherly duties on anybody.

Just saying....

Signing off,

(A wee bit) Cranky in Collector....

Winter Days

2011-07-03T00:00:00.000+10:00

Winter is here in the Tablelands. We've had lots of frost, but no snow as yet. I'm hoping we get snow, as it's the perfect weather for roaring fires, books, hot drinks and thick woolly socks. Of course, I don't get to do that much nowadays, but I remember. Oh yes, I remember well.

The Pie cafe is changing. We're learning all the time, tweaking our business plan, attempting to make things simpler, yet more effective. (I read an article which stated that oftentimes, business owners are efficient, but not effective). The transition we are planning is challenging, yet exciting. More on that later.

The Machinist has acquired more equipment for the workshop, as we have taken on new clients, who require a lot of manufactured items.

We have two new staff members, who are learning VERY FAST to become multi-skilled and very flexible. On any given day, they can be chopping wood for our fires as well as the Grands, loading woodchip onto our garden beds (in preparation for spring, and the weeds that it brings), helping out at the cafe in either wash-up or waiting or even - emergency barista.

My mam has been for an eye operation and it was absolutely thrilling to hear her say "Helen, I can actually see. It's like being re-born". In two weeks time, she will be visiting her sisters as well as having a reunion with three of her four sons in England. I sometimes imagine us all being together and the heart longing can be so strong, but in my 'head' I know and accept that this seldom comes to pass in the reality of life. One day, though, I would love to take my own family to the country of my birth.

The Machinist assures me "our time will come, Helen. You'll see"

For now, though, I will continue on here where I am needed most.

Relaxing After Work

2011-04-11T00:35:00.000+10:00

After a long and customer-busy day at the pie shop, there's nothing more relaxing than couch potato-ing it next to the Machinist. Our usual viewing line up is 60 minutes followed by Silent Witness on a Sunday. After this, we flick and flick, looking for snippets of shows that we may be interested in. American Idol flashes a full view of all three judges...

"Is that his real face?" I ask the Machinist of Steven Tyler.
"Yeah..."
"No nips, tucks, pinches or stretches?"
"I don't think so"

The dogs are all over me. Polly either at my feet or the chair next to me. Big Black Bob between the Machnist and I with his big head weighing heavy on my lap. Peppi curled up in a tight ball, on my lap and Lilly - laying across Big Bob's neck and onto my left side.

"I don't get it", says the Machinist "I feed and water them, administer medicine and care for them when they are sick, yet they're always sitting with you or on you. You're their Idol"

He's always making me laugh...

True Perspective

2011-02-20T08:44:00.000+11:00

"To withdraw for a brief moment from the hurly-burly and distractions of everyday affairs will afford both relief and fresh incentive; it will enable us to determine whether we are on the right road; it will give us the true perspective" - J.C.W.R.

We went out for dinner last night with fellow business associates, business owners and friends. Although the meal was scrumptious (antipasto, followed by rib eye, reduced red wine gravy, baked garlic, baked potato and then onto panna cotta), it was secondary to the company we kept. We spoke of other countries, childhood days, family, music, health and well being. And we laughed. We laughed a lot.

Throughout the conversations there was a 'knowing'. A knowing that we each understood the other's lifestyle, sacrifices and responsibilities. We all 'got it'.

On the way home, the Machinist had the windows open, driving down the main street of the city. The streets were filled with Youth, - deciding on their next move or destination. Mostly, - mere girls, looking beautiful with high heels and mini skirts that would make their mothers cringe (surely?). Here and there - a few groups of boys - well - they looked like boys - dressed very casually in T's and jeans or T's and shorts, seemingly no match, appearance wise for the girls.

Cars passed us, filled again with Youth holding beer cans or Maccas burgers, windows wound down and a 'doof, doof, doof' coming from their costly fully-sick sub woofas. And then, out of nowhere at the traffic lights (the Machinist still calls them 'Robots' from his South African days) a car full of Asian boys pulled up beside us. I watched them, wondering about their life and family and whether they were born here, and if they were happy and whether they called Australia 'home'. Instead of the beer bottles and cans and general junk food passed around, the front passenger passed around an amply filled plastic bag. Each of the back seat passengers took from the bag.

"Look, Doll... look what they're eating...."

Then, laughter.

In tune with their intrinsic culture, the young Asian boys were passing around a variety of fruits.

It truly was so refreshing to withdraw from every day affairs....

Melbourne Day 4

2011-02-17T23:26:00.000+11:00

We happened upon this beautifully laid out nursery on a main street in Brunswick.

We enjoyed the variety of metal art the owner had on display. I felt like Inspector Cluso with my camera taking these pics. I tried to snap them when the staff weren't around. Otherwise, they could have thought i was one of those secret shoppers....

More sneaky product pics...

Aaah... customers. Now I can take a few more shots

I have a 'thing' for this kind of gravel on garden paths. I love how neat it looks and the crunching sound it makes when you walk on it.

The Machinist is a poser. When the girls saw this pic of him, they declared that all he needed was a little white collar and he could pass as a Catholic priest. Naturally, the Machinist couldn't see it...

Melbourne Day 3

2011-02-17T22:32:00.001+11:00

This is Brunswick street.

It's an extremely LONG street by small country village standards and we walked the length of it several times. There were so many boutique / alternative (as they say) shops in this area of Melbourne and we LOVED them. Clothes shops, factory outlets, perfumery, coffee, boots, art, coffee, junk, goth, coffee... You catcha ma drift....

After shopping, we ventured back to South Wharf, hoping to see the movie "Hereafter". The girls went to buy the tickets, but were told that the whole cinema was booked out privately. And so - a dash for a tram, then another, then a train and we stepped off the station at South Yarra. The streets were packed full of people, bustling down narrow pavements. After a (very) brisk walk, we arrived at The Jam Factory (a mall) and on entering couldn't fail to see a Stan Laurel look alike figure hanging from the big hand of the massive suspended clock.

I could do with this skylight at home. I'd need a mansion to house it, though.

The city is beautiful at night. Full of lights and stained glass windows and solid stone decorative buildings like this one on Collins Street:

And this one, too....

And finally, bronze statues offering the European flair (and Atlas)

Melbourne Room With A View

2011-02-17T00:14:00.000+11:00

View from our hotel room, early morning, City of Melbourne:

Melbourne Trip Day 2 (Part c)

2011-02-16T23:51:00.000+11:00

In which we - yes - we talked to the (stuffed) animals.... Hey, let's sing it now:
"We are the world"

"We are the children"

"We are the ones who make a brighter day"

"So let's start giving"

"There's a choice we're making"

"We're (not) saving our own lives"

"It's true - we'll make a better day"

"Just you and me"

"la la la la la la......."

"Just you and meeee........"

Melbourne Trip Day 2 (Part b)

2011-02-16T23:21:00.000+11:00

Just inside the museum's doors stands this early 1920's van. I couldn't help but think of my mam, as she had to drive a laundry van at the young age of 14. She always knew that she could run much faster than the van, but felt priviledged to drive it anyway.

Through into the science section, we passed through a series of dinosaurs. Like this party animal overhead:

...And this well-grounded bro down below. Either way, they creep me out and it's a good job they don't roam the earth today.

The Machinist took my camera and snapped this shot of me. Need I say more?

Up close to one of the specimins. Even though they were behind glass, and most were dead, it would still be "Goodnight" for me if one was to fall on me, or take a stroll over my foot or land in my hair. I can't even begin to imagine one landing in my hair. I've got goosies just thinking about it.

Now these crawlies I don't mind watching. They were alive and well and eating their nom noms. They are the good guys, munching away at dead tissue and thereby cleaning the bones. Friends of the Curator dot com.

When their bellies are truly full and feasting comes to an end, this is the type of finish they end up with. Oh and by the way - this is the skeleton of a magpie. (I just can't imagine this guy swooping me)

Melbourne Trip Day 2 (Part a)

2011-02-16T23:03:00.001+11:00

We knew we wanted to visit the museum, but didn't know that it resided right next door to the Imax Cinema. Not sure what the girls are engrossed in, but would you look at the Machinist? He's checking out the general fabrication. Again.

The huge Rubik's cube in front of Imax cinema

We actually thought that this building was the museum. It's not. It's Australia's first Parliament House. For your information and interest, of course.

Check out Parliament's dome. These old buildings never cease to amaze me. They had less, worked harder, and the buildings were greater by FAR.

Alas, we came for the museum, and here it is. Excitement! (I'm such a nerd)

Melbourne Trip Day 1

2011-02-16T22:49:00.001+11:00

We recently flew to Melbourne on an overdue, longed for and promised mini getaway. Arriving early in the morning, we dropped off our bags at the hotel and took a tram over to Queen Victoria Market, housed under a massive awning type structure. The Machinist just HAD to check out the welds, angles, ID and OD thicknesses, as well as comment on the magnificent radiuses used 'back in those days...."

I was there for the food, especially the cherries at $3.99 per kg. We pay around $15 per kg in our neck o' the woods. (I sound like my mother).

While the girls were enthralled by artists and handsome thickset Kiwi men, the Machinist and I had a coffee here:

Later in the day, we took a taxi over to South Wharf and the Crown Casino, DFO shopping, dinner and movies (The Next Three Days)

Floods

2011-01-12T00:07:00.002+11:00

First the fires. Now the floods.

I have dear friends - isolated and marooned in their homes - unable to escape by themselves, waiting for the State Emergency Services to rescue them. Depending on a rescue, when all the time -not knowing if this is possible due to continuing weather conditions.

Such devastation puts everything into perspective.

Our thoughts and prayers are with you, Miller-Carters, those of the Murray Cod stock...xxx

Aquatic Drones: Good Guys Really

2011-01-06T08:24:00.001+11:00

One of the toilets at the Shop wasn't flushing with as much passion as it usually flushes. On inspection, the Machinist discovered that the submersible pump in Number Two Septic Tank wasn't working and grey water was building up and not seeping away quick enough - therefore, causing a sort of septic regurgitation.

He came into the kitchen to tell us that he had fixed the problem. "...and Doll, you should see the creatures we have in the septic tanks..."

The three of us looked up, waiting for more information.

"What?"

"The tanks"

"The pumps are fixed"

"No, the creatures...."

"You don't wanna be lookin'...."

The Kitchen procession began - out of the back door across to the septic tanks.

Rattailed Maggots and lest you think the tail is - well - the tail. It's not. It's their breathing tube.

A Bloke's Best Friend

2011-01-05T23:11:00.001+11:00

The front lawn had grown beyond recognition. It needed whipper snipper action before a conventional mower could have any effect. Even the path between the lawn and the house had lanky dandelions and grass roots emerging from the soft soil. Time was sparse and the Machinist moved swiftly, swinging his arms from left to right with skill, ravaging the rogue greenery - now bulbous and (almost) bursting with new life. Prolific seeds, waiting anxiously for their marching orders.
Suddenly, a pebble, lifted by the green chord shot up and hit the tall window. A crack, then another. Within seconds, the whole pane fragmented, but held in place.

That night, I heard crackling sounds. They woke me. By morning time, the Machinist had had enough of my ramblings about how the glass in the sliding door might "...suddenly burst and like shrapnel, disperse through our unsuspecting bodies...". He marched outside with bucket and broom, and 'relieved' the heaving pane. Not having enough time to clear up thousands of pieces of glass, the remains lay just outside our bedroom door.... waiting to be swept up 'later on'.

It's quite a few weeks later and the window has not been fixed. Instead, a huge piece of laminated cardboard protects us from the 'elements' (loud birdsong, loud cat crying and loud possum scrapping). On cooler nights, the wind almost whistles as the board flaps.

"Would you check that it's still in place? It sounds as if it's loose..."

The Machinist lifts the curtains to check his handiwork.

"It's fine. I'll get the glass man over tomorrow...Anyway, the Duct Tape's still in place..."

Thunderstorms and Flooding

2010-12-15T00:20:00.001+11:00

We were up at 4am two Friday nights ago - sweeping water out of the Workshop. Then again last Friday. This time, though, it was more than the average flooding; brown rainwater came in from both ends of the property. The creek at the bottom of our garden had risen so high, there was exactly three inches between the water level and the Workshop's concrete floor. The Machinist's brand new 'thousands of dollars' new machinery sat 10 metres away from facing the dreaded 'wet feet'.

The Machinist, the girls and I had spent the afternoon packing hundreds of sandbags in preparation of what was looming in the late afternoon sky. We were still filling, lifting, carting and dragging the heavy, (already)wet sacks when the storm began.

Equipped with several pumps, we attempted to suck the water away from the Workshop and pump it back into the creek. We'd made calls to the State Emergency Services, as well as our local Fire Brigade, to no avail.

"It's not just a back-yard shed," I pleaded "It's our bread and butter..."

I was so proud of my family that night. Our girls were real troopers, lugging sand bags on their shoulders, placing them around the perimeter of our property, through the trees, orchard, chicken coop and barn, bitten by bugs, treading on slugs (and having slugs stuck on their skin....yeowww).

You never know what you can do until you have to do it...

**On a sad note - we haven't seen Rognon since the storms. We can only presume she and her kittens were marooned someplace along the creek**

Where the Sun Shines

2010-10-25T22:52:00.000+11:00

When life gets hectic, and work piles up and the to-do list is overwhelming, it is a luxury and a comfort to gaze through the trees into the paddocks beyond. Grassy fields that could tell stories (if they could talk) of vagabonds and bushrangers, as well as immigrants who strived to make a new home on them.

How fortunate to own this view - directly across from the Shop!