Where I belong

My place in time #76

On a recent short drive to the small town where I grew up, I had to stop and take photos of this country.

While driving through this landscape, I felt pride, I felt at home, I belonged.

It's sprawling fields, where sheep and cattle graze. Where tall dry grass, lines the roadside. Old windmills dot the horizon. I have travelled these roads many a time. 

The air out the window is refreshing, the red gums like welcoming friends, familiar, they free me from my worries.

This is where I belong, I am a child of this landscape, comforted in its embrace.

The Ash Wednesday fires were 27 years ago, but blackened trees still stand as a reminder.

Kalangadoo SA - #openslather

My place in time #50 - Somewhere I used to live

This is where I grew up.

All of my childhood memories stem from this little town, up until we moved, the summer before I started high school.

It was a time of innocence. Life was so carefree, no responsibilities and not old enough to have made any of life's big fuck ups. 

It lives in my heart this place, plays with my emotions and reminds me of a time when life was simple.

The church we used to go to, across the road from our house.
My two sisters, twin brother and I were baptised here when I was eight.

We used to roller skate here on weekends. There was a picture of the
queen hanging on the wall, probably still is.

The old post office and looking down John Street.

The veranda on the right used to be a shop, I think it was Humphries store. I stole an eraser, can't remember how old I was, Mum made me go and hand it back. 

Log trucks still hurtle through town. There is a timber mill in town still, not as
busy as it was back when I was a kid.

The laneway I walked up and down a lot as a kid. The fences were not there then. There was a deli and fuel pumps on the right. I remember Dad giving me $5 to buy him a packet of Marlboro smokes, there was enough left for a can of coke, a pie and a huge bag of lollies. There was also an area where Dad and others drank plonk and played bowls(or bocce) under a pergola covered with grapevines.

The house I grew up in, on Ann Street, a little lot old now. Dad built the bit at the left, onto the old workers cottage. This brings happy memories of fresh cut grass and playing with my sisters and brothers. Happy times. I knocked on the door, no one answered, with the intention of asking for a cutting off the rose. I took one anyway.

Mum seems to think it is 'Sutters Gold'. It's special to me and I can't think of anything better than to have a cutting off the actual plant, I hope it takes.

An InLinkz Link-up

Leek, bacon and potato soup

Again we come home from Mums with veggie goodness! Perpetual leeks from her garden(I have them too, but not as good looking as these ones!), and spuds from Kalangadoo, no doubt given to her by a good friend from the town I grew up in as a kid.

Real brushed spuds, grown in volcanic dirt,  unlike the ones from this story featured in current affairs telly this week.

The obvious creation was Leek and potato soup. So this was my lunch on Wednesday, with all the trimmings, and it was delicioso(thank you google spell). I may have Spanish heritage but I can hardly speak or spell a word of it!

2 Tblspn olive oil

2 cloves garlic, crushed

3 medium leeks, sliced

3 rashers bacon, chopped

5 medium potatoes, large diced

1 Litre water, or stock, you choose

Leaves from a sprig of thyme

Celery salt (this is what I threw in because I didn't have real celery on hand. If you do however, slice a stalk and throw it in when you fry up the leeks) 

Heat oil, add garlic, leeks and bacon and saute for about 5 minutes.

Add potato, thyme and water, bring to the boil and simmer rapidly for 20 minutes.

Plug in your stick blender and whiz until smooth as you like.

A couple of serving suggestions - 

Croutons and a sprinkling of paprika

Easy peasy croutons

Butter sliced bread, both sides.

Sprinkle on flavour, both sides. In this instance, I used mixed  dry herbs(out the garden) on one slice and finely grated parmesan on the other.

Cut into cubes and place on baking tray.

Bake at 180 degrees for 20 minutes, or until desired crunchiness is reached.

Serve a small handful in middle of soup with a sprinkling of paprika. 

(any leftover croutons will store in an airtight container and are equally as scrumptious tossed in a salad!)

Crispy, Chunky, goodness.

Before blitzing soup, reserve a couple chunks of potato and leek per bowl.

Fry off a few strips of bacon until crispy good.

Serve in middle of bowl. Kapow!

Yumtious stuff right there peoples!

My memories of Ash Wednesday

This month sees the 30th anniversary of the Ash Wednesday bush fires. On the 16th of February to be exact. It must have been a school day. It was already hot and windy that morning, as we were rushed out of the pool. 

Although we lived in Kalangadoo, my brothers and sisters went to school in Nangwarry, about 15 km away. I remember we were doing swimming lessons that morning at the Nangwarry pool when we were ordered out. 

The next thing I can remember is being loaded on our usual school bus, our usual driver Mrs Cram, was taking us home, along with the rest of the Kalangadoo kids. Well we made it half way there. The daylight turned to night with the blackest soot surrounding the bus. I sat in the very front seat next to the driver, I could sense her worry as the bus struggled to function with the sooty air. I couldn't see a foot in front of the bus, it was so thick. She was worried the bus would stall and we would be stuck.

I don't remember being overly scared myself, I was worried. I was being extremely brave for a ten year old. A girl, a year younger than me cried, I remember trying to console her. I think she was worried for her family. A lot of the kids were getting upset at this point. I can remember it was hot, I was drinking a lot from my water bottle, probably out of nervousness more than anything. At that age I would have had no idea the seriousness of what was happening, how devastating a fire like this was capable of being.

Mrs Cram turned the bus around and we were taken to the Penola high school. At the time she had possibly saved our lives. I am not sure of the time frame, it could have already happened or was close to happening, on the other side of town, tragedy had struck Kalangadoo.

I cried in my pub squash reading this piece tonight. When I graduated primary school, I won the first Williams scholarship, in memory of John Williams' wife and kids. Such tragedy. The fire was so fierce and came so fast.

We were looked after in the library of the highschool, all I can really remember is being given fruit boxes and food from the school canteen. This is where I first saw the book "Where did I come from", I suppose they didn't have it in our catholic school library! 

Mum and Dad came to pick us up in the early morning I think. It was dark when we drove home, all I could see was the purple and orange glow of burnt tree stumps, and I remember the smell. 

When we got home our veranda had fallen down, with the wind I suppose, and I recall all us kids being concerned about the cat. Mum had a patch on her eye, she had got dust and soot in it and had been to the doctor. She must have been beside herself with worry, going through this and not knowing how her kids were coping, and not being able to get to us.

I can still see the burnt remains of the old Rogers mans house, just the chimney stood. A little further down the road, seeing dead bloated cows laying with their legs in the air, in the paddicks. They excavated mass graves and just pushed the cows in and covered them up.

I hope to never have to go through this again, to smell those smells, to see blackened smouldering trees on a sea of ashen ground and dead animals that had no where else to go. Just so devastating.