I grew up in a 115-year-old farmhouse in a remote farming community in South Australia, where three generations before me lived.

Growing up as the middle child with two sisters, our farmhouse was filled with love, laughter, dislike, adventure, imagination, big emotions, and, most of all, chatter. Our farmhouse tells stories from years before. The ‘prevent the bushfire’ sticker, ‘Keidge Motors’ sticker and ‘Dunlop tennis man’ sticker were inside the bedroom cupboard that my father and his brothers put there. My grandma planted the elm tree in the front yard. The blue carpet that was used to play the ‘floor is ocean’ jumping from our beds to avoid the pile of clothes and toys.

The chatter was my childhood growing up in a farmhouse. As I grew up, the chatter developed into dinner parties and coffee held around the kitchen table, sharing meals with friends and families. The chatter continues to change and grow, but it is always in our farmhouse.