Roving Numby
With a group of non-strangers with no phone service
- The women - minus Grace Brennan, who was taking the photo -
I am sated.
The brief: Stay in the Bush teamed up with Rove Numby, a hiking and glamping experience on a 6000-hectare sheep and cattle station in Wiradjuri country, soaring up from the sandy bottomed Lachlan River. They invited nine creatives from the sticks to get together and spitball ideas and just see what came out of it. No obligations. Just dot joining.
So many ideas. So much discourse.
Talk, talk, talk. Chatter over breakfast, through mouths of toothpaste at the sink, over walls while showering. Around the fire pit and on the deck as the river rushed in the paddock below. In tents, woollen quilts pulled up to chins, fingers of breath pale in the night’s chill. While panting up hills that rolled in every direction, past the soft lemon starbursts of kangaroo thorn that punctuate the vista.
Mothering, domesticity, sex, aging, stoicism, the attention economy, business, Snapchat, capacity building, scaling, dermaplaning, Botox, hair and its excess (why is it everywhere?) vibes, creative process, fashion and the lack of, morning routines, small country towns, writers, podcasts, peri-menopause, politics (and the politics of perimenopause) flow, recipes, books, face yoga, energy, death, jewellery, childbirth, dreams, plans, grief.
The light and shade of women as a collective, enlivened by each other’s experiences and point of view. Of brains and their everyday brilliance, blinking as one. I reckon you could keep a town’s lights on if plugged into the electricity of female conversation. Especially those lit up with gifted time and undivided attention. Who don’t need to cook or domestic for two-and a-bit days and are slightly feverish with this. The wax and wane of conversation and laughter and bearing witness to the minutia, (which, of course, are the important bits.)
In this age of para-social relationships, it could have been weird to know so much about these women – whose art, community building and legacy creation I have so admired over the years – yet never have met IRL. But it wasn’t. It was like rubbing shoulders with school mates, the slipstream of ease. That wonderful click of chemistry that eschews small talk and dives deep into the good stuff.
True vulnerability – which I think about often – bubbled through. I think true candour is admitting shame. Sharing when you were wrong or when you did something so stupid it takes your breath away thinking about it. Giving permission for self-responsibility, wriggle room for humanity, brushing off the crumbs of curation.
Driving 7-hours to get there, I had the nervous churn of imposter syndrome. What could I contribute? In this fallow season of life – a quiet time professionally and creatively - I wondered what I could offer. But I was still me, without the bulging resume. I was enough.
There is an intimacy that can be achieved at record level when hiking. Something about walking side-by-side, eyes on the track in front of you, that allows for emotional spillage. Kinda like driving, but the lumbering of bodies – bodies so used to sitting - is both meditative and medicinal.
There’s an easy interchangeability of dark and light that criss-crosses as effortlessly as the sheep tracks we follow. The group moves in murmuration, splitting and pairing off and changing again throughout the hikes like a giant, invisible puppeteer is orchestrating.
The idea of sharing a tent with someone you don’t know would normally send shivers down my spine – no matter how luxe the bell tent. But Becca Bignell - screen writer, director, producer – and I instantly regress to childhood. Like a sleepover, or pony camp. We speak until after midnight, eyes blinking shut involuntarily, the canvas a simple skin between us and the thrill of the silent night.
Far from any road – and any bars of service – is Numby’s Rosewood Cottage. Built in 1900, the old stone cottage has been adoringly – painstakingly - restored from the brink of ruin by grazier and custodian, Lou Crawford.
Lou has worked on it two-days a week for four years – a tonic amid parenting three small children. The restoration has been so thoughtful; all the cottage’s faded charm and character has been kept intact, with its open fires and timber floors, the patina of time a constellation on the walls.
Lou guided us through rivers, across fertile flats, up hills and down dales and in between walks we gathered at Rosewood Cottage where we were entirely spoiled by Heidi Castleden with her elevated, nourishing food.
Heidi lives in the next valley over from Numby Station where she runs Homestead Traders, a small-scale produce and flower farm with a dash of catering on the side. Everything was locally sourced and handmade – down to the bacon – and just so delicious. And the tiny details – the icy flannels infused with a touch of peppermint oil for wiping hot faces post hike. The miniature cups of homemade lemon sorbet, served with a vintage teaspoon; so tart to make the hairs stand up on your tongue.
All so considered. So surrounded by care.
The list
I listened to this podcast with Dr Vonda Wright on the drive home from Numby. It has some excellent recommendations for women especially about health span and how to approach peri-menopause. Did you know frozen shoulder is a symptom of peri?????? And that there is no link with HRT and breast cancer - that study was fraught and has been put in the bin. I want to live super duper well till I’m 100 so there’s some good stuff in here.
Talking of women + aging + health span - we all need to be lifting more weights. It doesn’t need to be scary and you won’t bulk up but we do need to build bone and muscle. I have been doing Les Mills strength training at home ($25 a month). I bought a barbell from Big W, I think it was this one but I’d spend a little more next time and have a quicker slide off mechanism.
I’m listening to Tom Lake, written by Ann Patchett and read for the audio version by Meryl Streep (!!!!!!) it is beyond lovely and a joyous listen. Gentle and funny, I laugh often, it’s such a timely reminder that beautiful literature can also be soft and enjoyable and doesn’t need to detail hard and wretched themes. Also so nice to hear about mature marriages that are wonderful, and family relations that are adored. It’s great. (took me a while to get into, push through).
We watched Presumed Innocent on Apple TV and I was simultaneously gripped by the plot and how hot Jake Gyllenhaal is. Holy Dooley that man’s smile.
I looked in my laundry cupboard a while ago and thought I had been seriously conned into buying a lot of horribly coloured chemicals to do specific jobs. I have been using Koh for about 6-months and use it for everything - floors, countertops, glass. I like it.
The most edible chocolate? Possibly.
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Until next time, keep well.
Em xx
Beautiful Em. I’ll never tire of your words 💛
Beautiful post Em.