It was a 120km trip to the Mitta Muster, but by the time we had arrived my stomach was cramping and my head was spinning. Bigger and busier than ever, it was a whirl of Wagyu steak sandwiches, wood chopping, dirt bike flipping, whip cracking, hot rods, horses, tourists and army recruiters. Too much! When I lived locally it was the event of the year and a great chance to catch up with the neighbours I didn’t see often enough..but things have changed. I guess the equivalent event for us is The Jingellic show, also in March. I think I need to save a bit of energy for that. We limped back to my parent’s house and I hit the couch we call “The Tallangatta Day Bed”. Not a thing of greatest beauty, it rests in perfect alignment with the mystical Mount Bullhead. Whenever guests arrive looking ragged (often having crossed mountains and rivers and whole continents to visit) they are directed to the day bed. If you lie with your feet towards the mountain you are almost guaranteed to fall into a light but immobilising slumber for about 20 minutes. Then you wake up recharged. I feel as though I have spent whole years on that day bed, boomeranging home after any number of adventures-gone-wrong. Once the resting spot was inside a little fibro sleep out, but at around the time Joseph was born my Uncle Alan came down and built the marvellous glassed in verandah that has transformed the way my parents live in the old homestead. A rammed earth hut built to keep out the heat and the blinding light, it was a cosy but introspective place. Now we get to rest inside a view of the valley and the hills beyond. Lovely stuff. James thought perhaps I needed a few days away from the Burrowye bustle but after an overnight stay at Stonroy (cup of tea in a William Morris patterned cup, home made strawberry ice cream, plenty of good chat, fresh rye bread, a riffle through the embroidery silks) and a trip to the Wodonga maternity ward for a check up (beeps, pricks, reassurance and sandwiches) I needed to come home. Not early labour, just a bit of a stomach bug. Phew. I guess all the lost pregnancies have left me a bit shell shocked and nervous. Back to the breathing exercises.