If you were to sit me down one day and say, “Katie, I am so incredibly fascinated by your entire life story – pray tell me, what was your favourite thing about secondary school?” then my answer would be, simply: Band.
I ended up in Band by pure chance, which is just as well, because I have a terrible habit of holding myself back from trying exciting things by telling myself all of the ways it will go wrong. Luckily for me, my Year 7 history teacher just happened to have taken over the Band programme and she decided to look for a piano player in our class for complicated reasons that would bore you should I go into them. The short version goes like this: I was there; I played piano; I’d passed the highest AMEB exam of the piano players in the class – I was in.
All of my best memories of secondary school revolve around Band and my VCE History class, because I had an amazing History teacher who gave us lollipops in our last class and told us to save them for the exam because having a lollipop in our mouth would make our brains work better. I’m not sure how that would have gone down in exam conditions, so it’s lucky we all dealt with our lollipops long before the exam turned up.
But as much as I loved History, Band was even better. Continue reading “What Happens on Band Camp…”
Time is speeding up, isn’t it? Everyone else got the memo but mine must have gone straight to spam because I was completely unprepared for the last fortnight to disappear without notice. What even happened? What did I do? All I can really remember is the last weekend because on Saturday, my band finally held the dinner dance for which we’ve spent half a year rehearsing and on Sunday, the Chef and I went on a little adventure for the first time in ages.
Our destination: Garfield, which is somewhat of an improvement on its original name of Cannibal Creek. Even though I would happily head to a small town in the country for no reason whatsoever, this time I had a purpose and it came in the form of the Garfield Heritage Winterfest Antiques Market. Oh, and an op shop in town that was opening on the Sunday, too.
Did I find a treasure or two? Continue reading “The Treasures of Garfield”
There’s probably an art to roadtripping and proper ways of doing it, perhaps with an accompanying set of commandments: Thou shalt always have a full thermos before setting off, or, Thou shalt not pack on the morning of thy departure. But when it comes to Failboats and roadtripping (which happens to be one of our favourite pastimes) our approach is to take it as it comes. The most important part is to have a destination and a kitty for expenses; we make up everything else in between.
Before I headed to the bay with the Melbourne Failboats, there was a great convergence of all Failboats in Canberra for the wedding of the Failboat known as Jen. We came from Melbourne, Perth and Sydney and we even granted The Chef with honourary Failboats status for the course of the extra-long weekend.
The Chef and I headed off a day early, stopping over at the parents’ place in Beechworth, which is sort-of the half-way point. By the second day, everyone was on the road, sending updates and speculating on who’d reach Canberra first. Continue reading “The Great Wedding Roadtrip”
When I discover a wonderful new blog, I like to go right back to the beginnings and read along from there. Within reason. If I come across a blog that’s been going for ten years, it’s unlikely I’d do that, but anything around about three years old is fair game. It gives me something to entertain myself with when waiting for stuff to happen at work or to fill in a lazy ten minutes or so at home. This is exactly what happened when I found Country Life Experiment, written by Jo, who moved to a working farm in New South Wales with her Country Boy and three children a couple of years ago. Jo writes beautifully of her country experiment and accompanies the words with delectable photos, which means I’m approaching the read-through much the way I would an addictive book: I really want to keep reading but I don’t want to get to the end.
Luckily, as it’s a blog, ‘the end’ merely means I’ll be up to date and waiting for the next blog post.
But I’m addicted for another reason: quite simply, it feels as though I’m reading about my childhood from my parents’ perspective and this is utterly fascinating. Let me take you back to when I was little and I’ll explain… Continue reading “A Country Childhood”
What’s the one thing better than a working heritage farm? A working heritage farm… on an island! And guess what? There just so happens to be one of those around a ninety minute drive from my house. As we know from my previous ramblings, a ninety minute drive is a perfectly reasonable distance to travel for a day’s gallivanting with my Chef and my camera, so when the aforementioned Chef had a day off, guess where we went?
Churchill Island Heritage Farm. Continue reading “The Farm on Churchill Island”