All good things...

It might seem ever so slightly improbable, but as we pulled into the driveway of our farmstay near Coffs Harbour two weeks ago, a double rainbow appeared from the clouds and seemed to end right on Rick and Annie's property. (I am not making this up!). It was to signal the beginning, in Ben's words, of the "best two weeks EVER".
The first word that came to mind, as we settled into our surroundings, was diversity. The huge number of birds was immediately apparent (Rick says more than 250 species frequent their property each year), as was the plant life, weather (everything from sun to frost) and people. In addition to Rick, Annie and their extended families, we met two amazing young women from Germany who were also staying on the property and thoroughly enjoyed the exchange of culture, language and philosophies that their presence made possible.
It was invigorating to work physically in such beautiful surroundings, with such inspiring people and we were convinced that we felt much better on a mostly vegetarian diet. Ben really enjoyed working with Rick and Richard (the carpenter) on such a unique home, with its enormous 500 year old turpentine trunk as the centrepiece of the frame, the curved ceiling and medieval doors. He also got pretty excited about using a broad knife and Rick's collection of musical instruments (including an Appalachian dulcimer).
I had a great time working in the garden and around the house and the girls had an absolute ball. In the first few days, Elouise kept saying "I've been here before, Mum. I really have. I remember everything". A sign she felt right at home. Matilda loved feeding the chooks through the wire, while chatting and singing to them, and Eli was always up early to help milk 'Surprise' the cow, with her new companion 'Eli' (coincidence) the dog right by her side. They learnt about bananas, paw paws and caring for horses, cows and poultry. Unfortunately, they also learnt about death as we buried a much-loved rooster one morning, following a probable visit from a quoll.
We learnt lots from Annie's 11 year old son, Brennan, about the local (and not so local) flora and fauna and I was particularly embarrassed when I asked, while sipping my coffee one morning, what the red berries were that he was picking. "Coffee beans" he said, perplexed.
We encountered an antechinus, satisfied a leech and supported the life cycle of a couple of ticks, marvelled at a pair of Jabiru storks and even convinced ourselves of the existence of the 'Glenreagh Gimp' (a two-footed, child-sized, hairy, half-man, half-possum that danced on the roof of the caravan each night).
The highlight of our stay though, was a 50 minute walk through largely untouched bush to get to a beautiful waterfall and rock pool near Glenreagh. Metaphors were in abundance as Elouise refused guidance and was determined to choose her own path through the rugged terrain, often proving she had more sense than me and only occasionally requiring assistance to negotiate a particularly difficult obstacle.
We really did not want our stay to end, as all good things must. All in all this two weeks was everything we had imagined it might have been. It fulfilled all our hopes of revitalizing, refuelling, reconnecting, remembering, exchanging, creating, learning and living. Rick, Annie, Briony, Brennan, Frauke and Lena, we cannot thank you enough.

Some photos

 Watching the rain come in

 The first of many chilly picnics

 The view from Fitzroy Falls

Eli in the vege patch

Delight and discovery

What a week! This time we left (shock, horror) to the sounds of Matilda screaming in the back seat as we waved goodbye to Uncle Peter in Tumut and set off for Kiama. Why were we doing this again? Sometimes it takes a few hours travel, a beautiful day and some spectacular scenery to remember. Our first stop was at the Big Merino in Goulburn, which surprisingly wasn’t the highlight of the week, but more about a place to stop for lunch. The Fitzroy Falls were well worth the visit and we found our first camping spot in Kiama just as the sun set over the beach last Monday night.

A brief visit to the Blow Hole the following morning (and a small incident involving a one way street) started the next leg of the journey over the Sydney Harbour bridge, through Newcastle to One Mile Beach for our next overnight stop. We explored rock pools at Fisherman’s Bay with the NSW Park Rangers and then travelled to Forster-Tuncurry for a 6 day stay involving whale watching, plenty of beach combing, a day trip to Taree and a step back in time to have tea and scones from the CWA ladies at the local market in Forster.

All in all it’s been a wonderful week, but particularly great for discovering...

-          Discovering that a whole 6 days in one caravan park is too long

-          That 5pm is far too late to arrive at your camping site

-          That (according to the kids) Mum’s showering habits are exceptionally entertaining

-          That going to bed with the kids and rising with the sun is fantastic

-          That the evening meal is much better and much more easily cooked in the middle of the day when you’re not relying on LED lanterns for lighting and the kids are not so tired

-          That the tent can withstand wind gusts of 60km/hr without blowing over and that it keeps us dry when it rains

-          That, as quaint and appealing as a town  might seem at first glance, it will lose its appeal quite rapidly if you stay too long

-          That Ben and Matilda make a very good sand castle

-          That Elouise loves collecting shells

-          That if it has two dorsal fins, it’s not a dolphin and you should get out of the water

-          That Goulburn is freezing in winter and 3 degrees can actually feel like -8 degrees in the wind

-          That you can’t get pepper on a sandwich if it’s blowing a gale

-          That exploring rock pools near massive seas is a recipe for disaster (but averted if you have a Matilda to yell “WAVE”!)

-          That seeing a whale up close is AMAZING and well worth the rough ride and being covered in someone else’s vomit

-          That you can’t keep kids out of a resort style pool, despite inappropriate temperatures for swimming

-          That the ‘scenic’ drive is usually not very scenic

-          That sometimes a wrong turn can provide unexpected delights ... as someone once told me – that’s exactly where the adventure is. In the unknown, the unplanned, the unexpected. So glad we didn’t plan every inch of the trip!

Chilled out.

Our first week ends as it began. Wintry. Other than freezing, it's been largely enjoyable and mostly uneventful - unless of course, you count me wearing my jumper inside-out to the supermarket as an 'event' or Ben and Matilda setting off the alarm at All Saints Church, Tumut, as they investigated what hid behind a particular door.
We set off from Bendigo last Monday, stopping in Violet Town for morning tea (and a chance meeting with another family from Bendigo), Albury for a very chilly picnic and Tarcutta for an emergency toilet stop, arriving late afternoon in Tumut, NSW, to stay with my extended family for the week.
We've ticked off visiting the snow from our 'must-do' list, with a stop near the Yarrangobilly caves in the Kosciusko National Park to make a snowman and have another very chilly picnic. So chilly, in fact, that the girls had barely taken a bite before we bundled them back to the car.
We've seen the Tumut river rise rapidly after water was released from the Blowering Dam and wildlife encounters have been frequent. Hundreds of kangaroos, plenty of kookaburras and even a few emus have crossed our path.
The highlight of the week, though, must go to Albert the talking cockatoo who lives across the road from the public amenities block in Tarcutta. Who knew that an emergency toilet stop (which very nearly ended in disaster) could end up being so enjoyable? Both girls thought Albert was the most hilarious cockatoo they had ever seen.
Already we find our trip evolving though it has barely begun. Our original plan to head towards Orange has been scrapped after a quick check of the forecast - a nippy minus 3 degrees overnight, with daily tops of around 6 degrees. Bit too cold for a tent we think! So now we are aiming for the coast where it's slightly warmer... though, judging by the response of the park owner, apparently unpowered tent sites are still not in demand. "No need to book, darl, there's plenty here" she said when I rang yesterday. Hmm. Trips to the shower block will be very quick indeed.

Cleaning and clarity...

With each wring of the mop, another memory emerges from the murky depths of my subconscious and the tears flow. It's a good thing I'm working backwards. I find myself wiping away tears from the floor as I go.
Usually I'm not too sentimental about houses. I've lived in about 18 of them, making the average stay less than two years. At five and a half years, this one was the longest stay to date. Maybe it's the length of stay or maybe that we designed and built it ourselves. Maybe it's because both girls were born while we were here, took their first steps, uttered their first words. Our first family home. Maybe it's because I'll miss our great neighbours, the street parties or the one-hundred-plus-year-old tree in the front yard. Or maybe it's just that I'm tired. It's been a big few weeks and I find myself cleaning at 9.30pm on a Sunday night in a cold, empty house that will, soon, no longer be ours.
The flip side to all this self-inflicted stress and sadness is that the very process of sorting and packing and cleaning has provided some unexpected clarity. It’s as if the joy of discovering long lost treasures in the far corners of cupboards has uncovered some forgotten truths in the far reaches of my own mind.
When you are left with nothing except that which will fit into an overnight bag, suddenly all that is important to you becomes very clear. The things you value in home and in relationships, in life and in a material sense, all become strikingly obvious. Only when missing, do you realise they were unappreciated every single day.
So here’s to not necessarily selling your home or quitting your job, but sometimes sorting all your ‘stuff’. To discarding the old, unused and unwanted, discovering hidden treasures and occasionally living without, in order to appreciate the answers within.

Necessity is the mother of invention...

It is official. House sold. Contracts unconditional. Employers notified. Homeless and jobless as of June 24, 2011. My heart rate seems to be slightly higher than usual. Not sure if that's excitement or fear yet. Too busy packing up to reflect.
It is occurring to me as I pack up hundreds of belongings (or should that be ownings?) that not many of them are really that necessary. I am functioning quite well in a kitchen with perhaps only one tenth of the paraphernalia that I did have. Every time I reach for a utensil or item no longer available, I wonder why I had it in the first place and then begin the happy task of inventing a new piece of equipment from what is left. A bowl and saucer now doubles as every microwavable container, the lid on the saucepan drains just as well as a colander... and why did I have more than 10 different wooden spoons?? Of course some of the stuff we accumulate makes life a little easier... but very little of it is necessary.
I guess that's one of the reasons we are embarking on this adventure. An exercise in living simply. Remembering what is essential in life and appreciating all the extras.

and so it begins...

The call came through. The appointment has been made. 11am tomorrow might be the day we sell our house and embark on an adventure we've been promising ourselves for years. It's a strange mix of excitement, anticipation, fear and a fair bit of anxiety that I'm feeling (especially when I think of the coming six weeks - packing, planning, moving and somehow convincing our two gorgeous girls that packing up their most loved possessions and living in a tent for 3 months is going to be great!).
Stay tuned... I have no idea how this adventure will unfold.