This drawing was meant for Chapter 5, ‘Living for Weekends’, of The Woman on the Mountain.
We’d moved there into the still very basic cabin, and I’d taken the writing work from my old design firm…
In a way it’s as if I remained part of the company even after I’d left and moved back here for good. They used to call me ‘our woman on the mountain’, as one says ‘our man in New York’, although the connotations of gumleaves and gumboots were probably less impressive.
They had to tolerate a long and turbulent teething period in those pre-email communication days. We were using a program called Carbon Copy (I think) where my computer linked to theirs via a primitive modem. I’d try to get the modem to work on my dreadful phone line, waiting for that magic sound, the electronic gargle of a successful connection. Someone had to sit at a computer at their end to receive it, and stay there to respond, even if it was unbelievably slow. I’d be sitting here trying to get it through, never sure if the person down there had given up, or wandered off to make a coffee or take a phone call. To find out, I’d have to disconnect and ring them, as I only had one line. Then we’d have to start all over again. Hair-tearingly not ideal.
I think that was when I first discovered the release to be derived from screaming Charlie Brown one-liners — ‘A-a-a-a-rgh!’ — from the verandah.
… But at least I was living and working here, even if conditions weren’t ideal. … I’d be shivering at my desk at the other end of the cabin from the combustion stove. Working on the computer, I’d be wearing fingerless gloves, beanie, thick socks and boots, tights, leggings, long woollen skirt, singlet, skivvy, woollen jumper, vest, cardigan and shawl, with a rug over my knees. Dead elegant — and cold. I cursed again the uninsulated roof.’
I have copies of The Woman on the Mountain which you can buy at a special price here.
Next Sunday, November 8th, as part of the Wollombi Country Fair, I’ll be heading to church. Not for a sacred service, but to speak at a Literary Morning Tea to be held by my publishers, Exisle, in the historic St. John’s Church at Wollombi.
In a few weeks I’ll be heading up the Hunter Valley, past all the horrible coal mines of the two shires south of Upper Hunter Shire to Scone, seat of local government and Horse Capital of Australia.
In early October I’m returning to my rural roots, so to speak, and heading back to Erina on the NSW Central Coast hinterland, where I grew up on a small farm.
Spotted a nice little review in ABC Gardening Australia magazine, August 2009 issue, by Denis Crawford:
Brett and his wife Aimee are newcomers to Mudgee, seeking a quieter lifestyle, which Mudgee still offers, along with a wealth of cultural, commercial and culinary facilities, not to mention being surrounded by wineries.
An extra treat was that Adam presented me with a bunch of yellow roses and some chocolates.
As well as the Mothers’ Day ‘Breakfast with the Birds’ at the Hunter Wetlands, 
While in Victoria I spent an amusing few hours on a community radio (3MDR) show with host Ann Creber. This dynamic pixie of a woman also hosted me for several days at her home, which she shares with husband David, two large poodles, Nina and Georgie, and hundreds of antique dishes and pots and pans — props for her food photography styling — plus more modern gear for menu testing as well as cooking for her ‘Whispers of Provence’ lines of preserves, jams and vinegars.