Today, I thought I had found Billabong. A beautiful homestead, lovingly restored. A glimpse was enough to transport me to my childhood dreams courtesy of Mary Grant Bruce.
In truth, it was Lanyon Homestead which I visited with a school excursion as a parent helper.
I'll probably never live on a farm, but oh I wish I could. It was an envious day.
On another note, the title of today's post is the name my fabulous Dad has used for his newspaper columns on local history. Today was an important day for Dad - his last regular day of work before embarking on various holidays and long service leave before retirement. He's spent the last 37 years at the one place of work, in a combination of journalism, cricket reporting and proof reading. He and Mum are really looking forward to a summer holiday, as Dad's cricket work has meant he hasn't had one in all that time.
*actually, this wasn't Dad's title. But it was a historical play on words like his title.