Thursday, May 10, 2012

It's not really a road to nowhere. It leads to a pot of gold.

 "We're on a road to nowhere,
Come on inside,
Takin' that ride to nowhere,
We'll take that ride......"

I've arisen after an eleven hour much needed sleep. It's been a massive five weeks since I started a new life, out of the wine industry, out of the Barossa, and in a whole new world. I have seen parts of Australia that I never thought much about before and my passion has come back, but not for the wine business, and not for the Barossa, but for the remote parts of Australia where the things you see most often are emus and flies. Oh, and the most amazing skies; sunsets, clouds, sunrises, stars and moon risings. And more than ever before, I value my rare time spent with my family, in my cottage in the Barossa Ranges.

I am still selling wine (taking orders via the internet whilst away and processing them on the rare days that I am home in the Barossa) as there is still a lot to sell, and the sooner it is gone, the better. I am also still indulging in wine - most nights I lob to dinner with a bottle in hand. It's a great way to ensure a deep sleep after a long, hard day at work.

I don't miss anything right now, and it sure has opened my eyes to much. Life has become an adventure. Nothing is permanent so I am enjoying the ride. To have received my first pay after so many years of working for nothing, in fact, working to only get deeper in debt, was the best feeling ever. I have even had very premature thoughts of planning my first ever overseas holiday. I am going to Texas. Yep, I sure am! Everything is bigger in Texas! Ha! I have some great mates who are keen to have me lob on their doorstep so I am going to do just that.

As a person who lived, loved, breathed, my life in the Barossa, (and more particularly, the Barossa Ranges), loved the rain, mist, fog, windy roads through the hills, my transition and new love for life in flat country, dry, dusty, colourful country where everything appears to be just waiting for an artist's palette and a willing eye and hand, has been as much of a surprise to me as my sudden life change was to many of those around me. No promises. No regrets. A new life. Life did not begin at forty for me. It began at forty-five.

Tonight though, I am looking forward to a peaceful evening in my cottage, and a Barossa/German dinner of kassler, vegetables and wine. I am waiting for the rain, then the wood fire will get started and I will spend my blissful days off indulging in doing not much. After all, now that I actually have 'days off', surely that is what they are for:)


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