Up in Normanton on the Gulf of Carpentaria it is winter, dry and hot. We drive our washing to the Laundromat to save it from walking there all by itself! The Laundromat is in the post office. In these parts every business multi tasks. As I wait for Woody to sort out the coin washer problems with the postmaster I lean on the verandah rail. I am overcome by a smell that takes me back to my childhood, but what is it? Then I hear brrrp, brrrp there are a few shrubs, a tank stand giving shade, a couple of struggling vegies and chooks! Aah, this is what we left the city for.