It’s been a long time since my last post. Thank you to those of you who have written to me to see if I’m still alive. I am. More than ever. But busy. So, so busy.
I recently started studying to become a chef. While it’s a lot of fun, it’s also all consuming, so posts will be less frequent for a little while.
While I haven’t had much time to spare I did manage to attend a country wedding in a town called Wombat in south west New South Wales. I had hoped the town would live up to its name with constant sightings of the furry little creatures. While I never saw a wombat, the scenery didn’t disappoint. It was magical.
The wedding ceremony was held at the couples’ property amongst an orchard of blossoming cherry and apricot trees. I was suspicious. The blossoms were too perfect – like strategically placed props from a movie set.
I left Wombat in verdant daze lovingly clutching my gift from the bride and groom – a bottle of homemade apricot jam “made with love” from their own trees. That was it. I was moving to the country to grow my own fruit, harvest my own vegetables and bottle-feed lambs.
Two weeks later, I’m firmly ensconced back into city life but the dream of one day having my own patch of land, even a small backyard, is firmly lodged in my heart. And while I don’t have my own plot of land, I am living in a rather expansive, green urban haven with its own orchard of sorts.