I haven’t been writing much lately, I’ve been too busy knitting a techni-colour baby blanket for one of my best friends who is about to give birth. I guess it’s a representation of motherhood, out of shape, miss matched multi-coloured, bumpy patches, soft and warm.
There’s a few free camp spots on the way to Perth, some right on the water, no toilets just sandy soil to dig a hole. It’s been two weeks now since we’ve had a shower. Bodhi threw my brush into a bush somewhere and now I’m as matted as a pet Poolie, (ragamuffin dogs with loud bites.) We’ve washed in serene seas and some strangled by weed. We visited the limestone peaks of the Pinnacles poking through desert sand, made some wonderful friends who brewed their own wine and passata and brought plenty of both with them to share. The wine was busy, fizzing and fermenting being passed between couples from campsite to campsite. They shared everything, unloaded their stock piles, their lemon tarts and Indian spices, their Vietnamese tea and polenta. They even shared their kayak let us paddle around calm waters for the day. They live south of Perth and we promised to visit them on our way through.