The Dowerin Bed and Breakfast and its guests have been at my mercy for over a week. This old woman has masqueraded as the boss, while my sister, Elizabeth, and her husband, Peter, are overseas on holidays. This is a diary of the week.
Dowerin is at the cross roads to a number of important places.
There are many responsibilities when you live in the country. I had to
Feed Hannah and her sisters. Which chook is Hannah?
The hens rewarded us with real farm eggs with orange yolks. The guests and my husband, John, and I ate them for breakfast almost every day.
Admire one of the garden rooms from the outside.
Choose my favourite.
Set the table for one guest for a 6.15 a.m. breakfast. (The next morning there were five for people for breakfast at 6, and no time for photography!)
Explore the in the shed at the bottom of the property
and discover John, hard at work.
Photograph reluctant neighbours.
Persist until I found some that were more amenable
Park in the main street, which was never a problem, especially on a Sunday. It is difficult to believe that during the Dowerin Field Days at the end of August space will be at a premium.
Find this Tin Dog on the edge of a paddock. This is the emblem of the town, about which a whole post could be written,
and also a bookshop in the middle of town.
Find a sunny spot on a verandah of the main house where I could do a spot of craft work – but where, sadly, I wrote not one word of my new book for a whole week!
A full wood box and several stoves
kept us warm on the odd wintry night
What more could anyone ask for during a week in the country?
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