They call it Mount Tabor...on Yarra Glen... pharmacy, kitchen and chapel, and more than a home...
Richard and Wailin extended a warm welcome to their country home. we stayed for 2 nights, learned to farm and realised that pak choi could be grown on winter soil. their organic garden supplied 
most our meals...lou fatt ko, peach, kiwi, fig, apple, macadamia, lemons, grapefruits, bayleaves, parsley, gooseberries, olives and a whole balm of scented pharmacopoeia lining the edge of their green property. finnie their trusty dog is still fit, hale and hearty at fourteen...accompanied us for many walks. i also managed to bathe her, something i had not done for 6 years since bobby
died. this place brought home a beginning of many memories. we spent the days hiking up the surrounding hills, me and my peruvian nomadic poncho and adrian with his old army smirks confidently tredging up the mossy grounds and breaking sticks
to head on a path. we even filmed a scene of near murder on the range, a tentative vengence for all the slips and misunderstandings which happened during the early days of our tenancy in melbourne city. a forgiving time on forgotten days. recovering from cold, wailin insisted on cooking. many sumptuous meals were served to keep us warm; fine red steak with grilled pumpkin and potatos one day and self-made char siew (a very rare treat in victoria country) with chinese stir fry plus organic veges and stewed apples on the second night while good o richard picked and poured the best wine from their oakwood store, even in the midst of nursing a recent surgery on foot. he also listens to the sound that rain makes when they fall from sky and just learnt to play the violin beyond 65... husband and wife: both poets, farmers, craftsman, musicians, pastors, healers and dedicated sculptors of the land and human heart. they lit the fireplace one rainy day and we spent rest of the night with a mug of hot tea with poems on our hands while wailin revelled ad. with tales of her early earthbound years grappling with mystery and other broken lives on half a globe. they both bore an artist's heart... wailin sculpts flowers for the sacristy while the side chapel and much of the house was filled with richard's paintings, music and carpentary. Christ hung on beech wood and gospel scenes 
replayed on walls making clear the anchor of within their innermost depths, the rooted soil of faith that gives meaning to their service to others, their humanity and the story of their marriage; tender and caring gifts of graciousness and love that flowed from a common heart centered on God.
most our meals...lou fatt ko, peach, kiwi, fig, apple, macadamia, lemons, grapefruits, bayleaves, parsley, gooseberries, olives and a whole balm of scented pharmacopoeia lining the edge of their green property. finnie their trusty dog is still fit, hale and hearty at fourteen...accompanied us for many walks. i also managed to bathe her, something i had not done for 6 years since bobby
died. this place brought home a beginning of many memories. we spent the days hiking up the surrounding hills, me and my peruvian nomadic poncho and adrian with his old army smirks confidently tredging up the mossy grounds and breaking sticks
to head on a path. we even filmed a scene of near murder on the range, a tentative vengence for all the slips and misunderstandings which happened during the early days of our tenancy in melbourne city. a forgiving time on forgotten days. recovering from cold, wailin insisted on cooking. many sumptuous meals were served to keep us warm; fine red steak with grilled pumpkin and potatos one day and self-made char siew (a very rare treat in victoria country) with chinese stir fry plus organic veges and stewed apples on the second night while good o richard picked and poured the best wine from their oakwood store, even in the midst of nursing a recent surgery on foot. he also listens to the sound that rain makes when they fall from sky and just learnt to play the violin beyond 65... husband and wife: both poets, farmers, craftsman, musicians, pastors, healers and dedicated sculptors of the land and human heart. they lit the fireplace one rainy day and we spent rest of the night with a mug of hot tea with poems on our hands while wailin revelled ad. with tales of her early earthbound years grappling with mystery and other broken lives on half a globe. they both bore an artist's heart... wailin sculpts flowers for the sacristy while the side chapel and much of the house was filled with richard's paintings, music and carpentary. Christ hung on beech wood and gospel scenes 
replayed on walls making clear the anchor of within their innermost depths, the rooted soil of faith that gives meaning to their service to others, their humanity and the story of their marriage; tender and caring gifts of graciousness and love that flowed from a common heart centered on God. it's not everyday that you get to witness and hold wisdom, prayer and laughter with your hands, like how we held ours' in a circle as we said grace. we value their friendship so much. they are one of the kindest and most beautiful couples we've ever met...having touched the lives of so many who have been privileged to meet them and share their quiet earthy faith.
