black & white walk

Late in the afternoon, when the sun loses its sting and the shadows are longer, we love to stroll through the back tracks of the village, veering off in new directions, coming out in unexpected back yards.  Oh, so this is where this track goes.  After ten years, I am still discovering new pockets behind the village, and building new connections in the map of my mind. 

 

Traditional huts are being replaced by the brick and tin hot-boxes of "development", however the dirt floor kitchen in the back yard is resolute. All of the cooking is done on an open fire with crude clay hobs, so if the whole kitchen goes up in smoke it doesn't threaten the house. They like to keep the animals close at hand to clean up the scraps, and utilise the flat gravestones as preparation areas. No stainless steel bench tops or glass splash backs here, just a bucket or two, and a rickety wooden bench.

a little bit shy

burn and bake

I blame my fire bug on my mother, who has pyromaniac tendencies.  She's an Aries,  and I am told they love fire. I think it was cultivated by a desire to rid paddocks of mallee roots and cleanse the harsh surroundings of her farm life.  She can't wait for the summer fire ban to be lifted and throw a match into the piles of debris she has gathered over the hot months.  Like tending to a baby, she will visit the fire through the night, stoking the coals, raking the cinders and pushing in escapees. A warm glow on her satisfied face.  

I was very proud when I got my "firemaker's badge" as an over achieving Girl Guide, and still challenge myself to light every fire with a single match.  Really, I should be rubbing sticks together, seeing as I have plenty of time.  Coconut fronds are a joy to burn - hot, fast, bright - dying down to a bed of fine coals.  And so it was this night I was overcome with the desire to make damper.  Tom had gone to bed, and I giggled with anticipation as I leafed through the trusty CWA cookbook checking that indeed the ingredients are only flour and water. A.k.a. glorified glue. Thought I'd get fancy and add walnuts and dates, then rolled the dough into small buns, wrapped them in foil and carried them to the fire on the head of a shovel.  Twenty minutes later I was selfishly devouring hot damper with fig jam and bits of ash.

The following morning, you could have used them as ammunition in your ging to kill a nearby goat.

settled

I bought myself two magazines at the Perth airport, Frankie and Peppermint, and promised I would save them until the house was clean, the fridge stocked and I could settle onto the day bed with a coffee.  The delayed gratification was worth it. Welcome home.

bayley's on the rocks

If you were following our movements last year, you might remember the initial site visit to the cliff block; the scrambling around on jagged rock, measuring cracks and fissures, noting the direction of views, wind and sun, with a vision to design a rustic, organic abode for Baylo & Kate, an English couple from Dartmouth.  Progress was steady throughout the season, and it was beginning to take shape when we left in early December.  Finally seeing the house finished, furnished and lived in is very satisfying.  Although the builders neglected to follow some of the finer artistic details, the architect has announced he is "stoked with the outcome."   Join us on the deck for a sunset cup of tea, brewed by a Pom, just the way you like it.