Last weekend I took myself on a road trip. I set off from home with my daughters and we stopped for coffee and baked goods at our favourite bakery. The girls got on the train at Mittagong and returned to Sydney while I carried on.
I stopped at "The Big Merino" in Goulburn and had a wander around looking at all the lovely woollen items:
It was very tempting to buy a handknitted Fair Isle jumper or cardigan but there was a substantial amount of money involved (I'm not saying they were expensive, they were worth every bit)
I arrived at my very nice, very accessible hotel around three and filled in some time reading before heading to the local pub for dinner. Unfortunately I hadn't timed my arrival well enough to score a table by the open fire but I did have a nice meal.
The next day I had a delicious breakfast of waffles and coffee in the "Walter Cafe" overlooking Lake Burley Griffin, drove up to see Parliament House and decided to go to the Black Mountain Lookout.
The view from the lookout was spectacular but I had to take in the view from the road and through the trees because there were steep steps leading down to the lookout. It makes for a more interesting photo, maybe.
I stopped to have a look at Lake George which doesn't always have water in it. It was grey and dull looking. I'm not sure if it was worth the detour but one day when the lake is a dried up claypan, I'll probably be glad I did. I find the view of the windmills hopeful, they won't solve climate change but they are a symbol of progress.
There was a "Makers Market" happening in Yass where I stopped to talk to a man who was carving spoons. We had an interesting conversation talking about the sentimental value that spoons seem to have and I asked if he might be able to repair this hand carved spoon my mum gave me. It broke one day when I was washing it and it has sat unused ever since. He said he could so I posted it off this week and I look forward to seeing it after he works on it.
Unfortunately, my car seemed to use a huge amount of petrol on the trip and the mechanic isn't sure what's wrong. He suggested that at 18 years old, too much investigation might be like opening a can of worms and though I was hoping to squeeze a couple more years out of it, I've decided that it's time to find another car so that's the next project.