Mulberries, trains and the women who save small towns
My vampire baby and her taste for fresh mulberries…
We stand under the weeping boughs of the old mulberry tree. The branches hang like thick ropes, fat with clusters of ripening berries. The more I look, the more appear, a sweet apparition. The baby is heavy on my hip, chirping like a little bird, her mouth open, chin-stained purple with juice. The mulberries fall with the tenderest of touches - I realise I can give the branch a little shake and the berries rain onto the grass where we crouch and gobble, little stems and all. The lavender across the path is busy with singing bees elated with their work. It’s the morning after a storm and everything glistens anew, the day’s slate fresh after the thick-aired anticipation of yesterday.
It’s been a gentle, sodden spring for us in our patch. Sadly, not so for our friends in the far south, but for us, it’s our turn. In town the roses froth, creamy heads nodding. At home, I can almost walk on the soup of honeysuckle which breaks in waves along the fence line, curling up posts like sinew. My hedge of iris – tiny spokes of green 18-months ago, delivered in a burlap bag in the back of my grandmother’s car – are dew-spotted, shimmering, a full bouffant of lilac unfurled and spectacular.
It has been a busy time of accepting things outside my comfort zone, breaking open little kernels of novelty. I had the pleasure to fly to South Australia two weeks ago as the guest speaker of a Rural Women’s Day luncheon, invited by the wonderful women of Kimba’s Workshop26. I’d forgotten what it is to fly solo, the pure leisure of hours to think, in the twilight that is travel. Travel (without small children) is such excellent mulling time, where thoughts can percolate, buffed and refined.
Workshop26 is a marvel unto itself. A collective of rural creatives who bought the old John Deer dealership, which closed shop in 2019 after 94-years operating in the town of 600. Nine jobs lost and the local confidence shaken. The women who bought it are everything I know rural women to be. Doers. Creators. Resourceful and so incredibly capable. They scrubbed decades of grease from the floor and installed eight shipping containers, each housing its own female-founded micro-business: think boutique candles, handmade silver jewellery, raw food and eco-products, vintage homewares, gardening essentials, delicious handmade soaps and copywriting extraordinaire, Lisa Locke.
Some of the women behind Workshop26
My presentation centred on storytelling: what makes a wonderful story, why the stories of rural women matter so much and some of the stories I’ve had the pleasure to tell across the span of my career. Interwoven throughout, I told my own journey: the good, the bad and the seemingly ugly.
I had a lot of feedback after the lunch that one of the things that really stuck with people was the sage advice of my yoga philosophy teacher, Sudhir. Sudhir and I were eating lunch together, while I was in Goa in 2018, and he gave me an observation that really gave me the permission to take huge leaps of healing. I’m adding it below (cut straight from my speech) because maybe you’d like the reminder too….
‘Over lunch one day I was telling Sudhir about my friend Maddie, and the terrible survivor’s guilt and grief I still carried around after her loss. That if I’d done something differently, maybe she would be alive.
Sudhir said something to me which was incredibly helpful.
He said:
“Your life is like riding a train. You will ride this train and people will get on and off, carrying their own baggage. Some people will ride with you your whole journey; others will ride for only a short time. Your friend chose her stop. She chose to get down off your train, and that is where your journey together ended.”
How is that for evoking so much meaning and impact through a story? Can’t you see the train, think of a time in your own life when you wished you had longer riding with someone in your carriage? I think of this train analogy often, how people come into your life for a reason or just a season, and how that can have such a ripple effect on your story…’
I hope there’s a slice of goodness for you today, wherever you’re reading XX
Recent work
Life on the Land is back - we’ve had more than 700,000 downloads!!! I’m so proud of this podcast. This season is all about the new generation of women leading the way. They’re thought leaders, disruptors and game changers and the conversations are enriching. You can listen here.
The list
I’m a little bit obsessed with learning about women’s hormones. Oh my goddess, the revelations are coming thick and fast. Loved this pod - which you can also listen to on Apple Podcasts, I quite like seeing the questions Lewis Howes asks noted here as well as a bit of info about his guests. So helpful! Send to all the women in your life!!!
I have Charlotte Wood’s Stoneyard Devotional at the top of my next-to-be-read. As always such interesting conversations over at Sydney Writers Festival pod.
Talking of writers, I loved this conversation between Daisy Buchanan and Jodi Picoult on You're Booked. I love Daisy’s curiosity and interviewing style and Jodi is a firecracker and fantastically interesting around her new novel, By any other name.
I cried reading The Women, which I didn’t think I’d like (I’m not usually drawn to war stories) but the accuracy and research that has gone into Kristen Hannah’s work is remarkable. I learned a lot and I’m still thinking about it. So much waste.
As we tumble towards the end of the year, I’m trying to think of how I can purchase with intention as much of our Christmas wares as I can that ticks as many of the following 1. local 2. Australian 3. from the bush 4. sustainable 5. female-founders - Workshop26 ticks most of these! I am also loving perusing Merchant Campbell at the mo. Might have to do a full newsie of bushy biz!!!!!
Good undies. Can’t beat ‘em. Have found some absolute crackers over at Paire wowowowow. So comfy and Aussie! Merino and other nice fabrics. Not cheap so I’m buying one at a time, but far out Brussel sprout they’re all I wanna wear….