My last cup of tea at Ms. Evelyn’s at Mile End before we make the six hour drive back to Roxby Downs.
In just one week, we’ve made so many memories in this beautiful home away from home.
On the first night Hazel decided that sleeping in a cot was a thing of the past. She has slept in the big bed every night since.
On day two I became an author and my book was released to the world, all while Hazel was having her first overnight stay in hospital.
Adrian celebrated 100 days of zero alcohol, by helping me overindulge in a ridiculously big bottle of Moët.
We had Uber eats for the first time (I know).
The four of us have enjoyed mornings cuddled up in bed because we didn’t have to run into the study to work (that all ends tomorrow).
Adrian and I used fresh ingredients from the herb garden to make cocktails in the late afternoons. We used Ms. Evelyns flowers to decorate our drinks and tried to give ourselves five minutes of peace.
Our trip to Adelaide was due to unforeseen circumstances, but Ms. Evelyns allowed us to find comfort, even joy, during a stressful time.
The small rectangular kitchen table has been my favourite piece in the whole house, because of what it has offered. We have all sat around it together each day, either eating as a family or calming down with colouring-in.
I sat underneath the blush pink bouquet of roses that stood tall in a vase at one corner of the table. I imagined that if it weren’t for the children demanding attention from every spec of my DNA, that I might just be able to write a novel in that room; under those roses; under the gaze of blue sky peering in through the window.
I can honestly say, I will miss this home. I’ll miss the way it makes me feel. The nostalgia from my own youth, the warmth of a friends generosity. The little bit of growth we have all experienced since being here (thanks Uber eats. Lol).
Tonight we will return to all our own belongings, our own familiar space. We’ll be back in the “home office”, and bribing the kids for five more minutes so that we can get our work done. It’ll be back to the treadmill (not for Hazel. She clearly hasn’t worked out how to use it). The wine will take some time off (from Adrian. Not from me. I’m not a sadist). Life as we know it will resume.
So I’m just going to sip this tea, and stare at the photographs that dress the halls of Ms Evelyns. And smile, at the framed butterflies that Hazel insists on stroking as she passes them and saying, “Bu..flies”.