Dad and I had what we agreed was the BEST breakfast ever, both ordering the mouth-watering fluffy flavorsome buttermilk pancakes with fresh seasonal sliced fruit and the local creamy silky yogurt with short sweet hot coffees. This was at the Butcher's cafe on Church street in the heart of town.
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After filling tummies and thanking owners we took off to Rylston which is about 40 minutes out of Mudgee to meet up with cousin Brett and his gorgeous partner Jen. Rylston was founded in the mid 1840's and 100 years later Kandos township was developed as the infrastructure of the cement works that created a booming community. The Councellors of Kandos tried to pass a vote to have Rylston burnt to the ground as it was only filled with the ferals of the area but this was quashed (thank god). The cement works have recently closed and now the valuation of the area has skyrocketed as Sydney-ites are streaming up to this quiet haven in the hills.
The tour took us through Brett's furniture business "AdHoc Designs" where he makes fantastic tables, chairs, sideboards, dining tables, bed heads - you name it, and all with recycled timber from Redwood, Cedar, Oregon pine and many types that he and Dad were very familiar with.
We finished off the afternoon with Yum Cha in one of the oldest buildings in the town which is run by the Historical Society, what a contrast where East meets Aussie. The food was sensational with fresh prawns, other seafood and duck steamed in wantons and served with chili, soy or other Asian flavors and all served up with cold Chinese beer.
Finally back to the house and offering Dad the well needed rest that both his body and mind need.
Well it's now close to midnight and Dad and I are back in our room chatting about the night of frivolity each sipping on a Bailey's whilst he loads up the next 6 CD's for the journey north tomorrow and I write up this Blog. We left the dining experience standing in my cousin Lucy and her partner Colin's friggin' awesome home made shed singing "That's Amore" by Dean Martin (who is my father) (but that is a TOTALLY different story of my mildly dysfunctional childhood)... downing the 5th or 10th bottle of wine, champas, whisky and 4 hours of mind opening tit-for-tat family stories about our childhood's, my Dad's childhood and what he could recollect most probably his brother's childhood was.What a wonderful time we have when we allow ourselves to fall back into the innocence of our childhood memories and all the laughter that they afford us.
I don't really know if anyone can match the memories that we can recall whilst sitting around a dining table probably lovingly made my Brett. I love to watch strangers as they hear our stories and see them squirm uncomfortably in their seats whilst we recount the memories of our past. What others may hear and condemn I know as our histrionic past and take at ease, but laugh when re-told which taps on my memory banks.
Amongst all of the madness of the evening, the fabulous food, local wine, eclectic music and intellectual banter the thing I found most appealing was when Lucy said "Uncle Bill tell me the most interesting thing you know about my father" chirped up by someone asking him to tell us about his world war II memories, and another inquiring about our Grandmother.
My Dad's eyes lit, not into a light as one would suggest, but as I see him when he is recalling memories of a long time ago. For the rest of the night he was included into the conversation, not as one who says "yes" or "no" but one who is adding spice and dimension to the evening. When he spoke we would hush and take time to listen and all of us learnt more by the opportunity.
We called a cab once the night was closing but not because he was ready for bed. This will be a night that I will remember and in decades. I will recall the music, the soft animal skins on the floor, the rustic yet homely feel of both the building and the time spent with those of my my family that I see so rarely but still am comfortable to I call my own.
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