we're packing our bags and heading north. a long way north. to the old convent. where my parents live. a place of wheat and wattle. of wildflowers and big sky. it's been one whole year since we were last there. that's the longest time i've been away. ever. it's the place where i grew up. where generations before me grew up . . . and although it's more than half a lifetime since i lived there, somehow, it still feels like going home.