It’s 9.00am and, as I wander around our borrowed farm, already the animals have retreated to the shade; horses under overhanging oaks, donkeys resting under river gums and the goat hiding in his shed. Only the whippets join me on my walk, determined not to miss an adventure, regardless of the heat.
With only a couple of days left of our farm-sit, I’m contemplating the idea of hitting the highway to continue our journey south to join our family for Christmas. But part of me wants to stay here in my paddock, surrounded by nature, and only emerge when this crazy week is done.
Dear Santa,
Please send our pressies to the shack at the bottom of the track in the paddock in the middle of forest out the back of the highway. There’s plenty of grass, waterways and companionship for your reindeer and your way will be lit by a million stars.
Love a romance writer in retreat
growing up writing 