Growth

The alarm sounded at 3 on Saturday morning, awoken to a cup of coffee, quick shower and an early morning drive. Back up north, we loaded the Morris and turned straight back around down south. The Morris Eight demands a bit more attention in the sunlight, as the 70 year old car tells her story of a different past.

Good for Boorowa

Along new and familiar roads, the car's tyres moved to the beat of some country tunes and podcast pondering. It was a week of new thinking, new wisdom and new pushing, all on old country. But the words of a familiar folk named Sparkles caught me off guard with a simple comment- it's good for Boorowa.

Rocking roller coaster

This week started on a high- watching my sister speak language, on country, educating youth. Nothing was more powerful than this display of strength and longevity- always was, always will be. Meanwhile, Gloucester chilled-out to a spate of food trucks in the evening, backed up by old cars and market stalls.

Sunday drivers. History repeated.

Saturday morning was an early start, but in fairness the hours of the night before seemed to tick slower than a second hand drawal around the watchface. Like a beating rhythm of uncertainty, all fears fell when the 60 year old Wolseley lit up, matched only by my racing heart and Dad's eyes. If asked, I would have struggled to recite the sound before, but upon hearing the engine purr my childhood came back to life.

Making Memories

It started on the road- back to hometown feels, tall trees and running sheep. Out under the rain filled skies, new screws held old tin against hand cut beams on the shearing shed. Then from the farm, we piled in on a trip to Goulburn via Crookwell. Greeted by chilling winds and the promise of snow. The Southern Country has nostalgic charm.

Eternal ponder

On a centre stage I connected. Blessed, and in the presence of a greater strength, words flowed about my family, climate change and agriculture. I look back at my family's history and find hope. Hope for a better future. Hope for change.

A different level

After recovering from the worst of the flu, it was back to it. The weekend provided the chance to pause and get things back in order. Slowly our new mailbox was erected from an old plough and milk can, a timeless testament to components of the history of agriculture. There it stands- captured in time, awaiting future meaning.

Science and ancient knowledge

I'm writing a bit under the weather today, dragged down by the flu but fighting on as best I can. It's been good to catch up on some sleep, spend some time at home and just clear the mind a little. All with time to recover and gear up for the next financial year.

It starts with connection

By the waters edge, a story swirls and seems to play out as it is told. The story written in the landscape proves the legitimacy of each word, confirming the time some 7,000 years ago. When the sea's shore was over 120 kilometres from where it is now, it's obvious this changing climate of ours is now speeding up.

More than miles

Old books filled familiar places to inspire future thinking. Filled with the thinking of the time, an old Farmer's Weekly provided advice to fix anything, while the old show results of another show provided hope for progression of breeds often ignored now. History stored for another day, wondering when it will be acknowledged and learnt from.

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