Wednesday, October 17, 2012


Our weekender, bought in 1962 by my Mum and Dad with what should have been the deposit on their first family home, is a place by the river that has delighted us all for years in so many different ways - a retreat, an entertaining space, a holiday resort, a place of remembrance. 

As soon as I hit the water (the house is only accessible by boat), my mind begins to yield its knots and ties and my troubles are literally offloaded in our wake.  The landscape is true Australia, the wildlife carries on around us and here I am my true self.

These days having a holiday house brings so much expectation in terms of lifestyle and all the trappings thereof.  For my family and me though, it's so much more than that.....

A visit is not complete without a dip in the river.

The fire sees us visiting all through the year - toasting marshmallows and baking rice puddings.

The boys all cook - released from the daily grind, they find solace in the art of slow cooking and are rewarded for their efforts by a hungry mob who fall upon each offering.

Off the grid - far from the maddening crowd (never was this more necessary) and into a world of quiet contemplation, of cards, scrabble and comics.
  • family
  • chats
  • gardening
  • the mosaic art of building a rock wall
Woken by wildlife each morning, we stagger to bed each night with love and humour under our belts
  • the time to take tea... again and again...
  • simple pleasures of an orange cake - a beloved recipe
  • planning our next visit
  • planning additions
  • planning to do nothing
  • cousins
  • granny rugs
  • heirloom furniture - all shabby!

These are our fondest memories.  We now have the privilege of watching our children live the experiences of our own childhood.

This is a safe place.