August 6, 2009
my parents still live in the house i grew up in. the garden is brimming with vegies. it's a little higgledy-piggeldy, a bit country-cottage, it's very recycled...in the best kind-of-way. My dad is pretty lucky when it comes to finding things. side-of-the-road jewels you could say. their dream is to build and live in a mudbrick house. i have no doubt that they'll do it. ché, if he could, would spend every moment of every day in this garden. it's his paradise. happy as a bee and just as sweet as honey. what could be better than chasing chickens, collecting eggs, picking herbs and digging dirt. and then sealing the day with a roaring fire and bbq'ed chorizo. i suppose i've discovered a new-found love of this place. it's the perfect example of cycles - the chicken and the egg, the seeds and the vegetables, me and my baby. Because, as I'm reminded every time I stand back to watch, I was once the little one running 'round and 'round the garden...like a teddy bear. and now it's ché's turn.