Coffee and cold sunshine

When a place is revisited, circumstances change perspectives. This was my third time at the Stank, Aunt Pauline’s home: the weather was dry and bright; I had new knowledge about stone walls; and I got to see all of the rooms for the first time (because Monica is more pushy than me). Monica, of course, was weighing up life there against Warland because it was the first place we considered and the one that made us consider moving at all. We had long discussions, at the Stank and on the way home: our conclusions were that the place and environs are lovely but we prefer where we have settled.

While I finish my coffee in the yard, Monica is probably just crossing the northern coast of Australia. All the first-time visitors will get excited and prepare themselves for landing soon but Monica will smile, knowing there are five more hours and two more movies before the dry brown changes to urban sprawl.

We were both reluctant to volunteer for the job of going over to sort out our pension and Monica drew the short straw. The trials of the journey are a known disincentive but I think our reluctance really stems from the danger of liking Australia too much. We scarpered out of there without much looking back but every view and every street in Adelaide and Sydney hold fond memories for us and it is bound to be painful to visit and leave it all again. Monica’s my hero, yet again, for taking on that challenge.

While she’s away, my projects continue, of course. Today is sowing seeds; tomorrow is building beehives; Treesponsibility are coming by to tend the woodland they planted. Everything is bulging as new growth braves the frosty mornings.

So: less blather and more action!

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