Two hours from Sydney in rolling hills of the Southern Highlands lies the tranquil area of Wilde’s Meadow. Tranquillity naturally includes the singing of birds, frogs croaking, and cows moo-ing. This sylvan paradise can be shaken awake though by one rogue sulphur-crested cockatoo flying across the paddock on the other side of the pond squawking with frustration on finding wire mesh on the wooden railings to prevent him from gnawing them to ruination, again.
Sitting-out on the terrace in the late afternoon, just shooting-the-breeze with a cup of tea and one of Robyn’s Christmassy mince tarts, provides the loveliest welcome. Plump silver perch swim around in the pond and the green hillside beyond is nearly obliterated in yellow of dandelions, right up to the nature reserve sheltering the wallabies. Over that side somewhere is the Henhouse Hilton where Robyn motors over to feed her ‘girls’ with the scraps, and to collect the new eggs, still warm.