Broken at the 2016 Darwin Festival. Pop-Up Down to Katherine Hot Springs. You had me at sourdough. Charles Darwin and the Tropics. The Rainbow Cafe Is Going Crazy. I wanna dance with somebody.

Curries, Soups and Stews. Grains, Pulses, Legumes, Nuts and Rice. Pies, Burgers, Sandwiches, Bruschettas. Sauces, Dips and Preserves. Tri Pumpkin Salad with Basil, Honey Pepitas and Persian Feta. Slow roasting pumpkin with the skin on is probably my favourite way to cook it. And recently I came across a recipe that used raw butternut pumpkin teamed with fresh apple and candied pecans.

Follow GULP NT on WordPress. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Eat my Words- Tastes and Tales of Territory Cooks. Most of all we love to be involved in connecting community and connecting to our wonderful Top End produce and this is a wonderful way to bring people together.

The woman on the Yellow Bike. Considerations, observations and Stories from the saddle of a bicycle. If you had been walking or cycling or even boating along the canal du midi in october 2010 you may have seen a woman on a bicycle cycling effortlessly along the towpath. On a sunny crisp autumnal day. Was painted yellow with red tulips on the skirt and chain guards.

My last week in Wadeye has flown by and I am left with a great sense of relief. Aside from the fact I am now 35 weeks pregnant, sick with another childcare lurgy and having trouble sleeping, I thought that I would be more sad to leave behind all the faces that I have come to know over the last year.

AWEganic gardens is a collaboration of AWEsome people with a diverse range of skills building upon more than a decade primarily based utilising permaculture practices. AWEganic gardens is based in rapid creek, darwin, australia. mate! To keep up to date with the growth of our AWEganisation follow us on FACEBOOK.

At loss for words in summer. A while ago i wrote of how. I was filled with words. But something has happened since then. I no longer want to speak. Instead I want to leave those jumbled words behind. Haphazardly in soft purple ditches. Where rushes whisper by lonely lakes and white bog cotton shyly dips. Her wispy head among rows of darkened turf.

The woman on the Yellow Bicycle. Observing life from the saddle of my bike. Good bye to the Agapanthus. Before I realize it my week is over. In what seems like the blink of an eye, my island story is told. And in the end, the only.