I’m back on the right/wrong side of the border, back to the limestone farmhouse, back to the little dog and the farmer boy, back to life without central heating. Whilst I was away my stocks in my pots on the front veranda seemed to have tripled in size and bloomed like nobodies business…
Driving home from Melbourne on Saturday the rain fell steadily, and then around Ballarat it stopped…then started again ever so lightly, softer, fluffier and very, very quietly. It was snowing. The icy air has followed me to the Limestone Coast, yesterday was spent in front of the fire, assembling furniture bought in Melbourne, eating spicy coconut pumpkin soup and letting my hens roam free around the lawn. Washing was done, the house was cleaned, the pantry sorted, order restored.
I missed our old farmhouse and our slow pace of life here at Carlton. I realised last night that my five days in Melbourne were probably the longest stretch I’ve spent in the city since I moved back to the country in 2008, otherwise it’s just been a weekend here or there spent in ‘my’ beloved city. I love Melbourne, I really do – it’s familiar and a lot of people we care about call it home. But the busyness of having a family in Melbourne is not for us, that much was definitely confirmed whilst I solo-parented my nieces for the week.
This week I’m slowing down again, keeping warm, back in the groove of baking, making, sewing and growing. Some photography work, some design study, blogging of course. Familiar and warm and slow.