Friends and baked salmon

I'm sitting here exhausted and slightly sore, but I can't complain. It's been the kind of weekend that I love - busy and full of friends and food. We had our friends from the UK, Sue and Pete (Jayne's folks) stay for a couple of nights and while they brought the English weather with them, we managed to show them a side of Canberra they really enjoyed.

Having done the main sights before, and being too wet for Floriade, we thought our activities should be inside as much as possible, and revolve around food. It wasn't just my preference - Sue used to be a caterer.

We started in Fyshwick, went to the markets in Kingston, and wound up in Woden. Along the way, I picked up organic tomatoes, salad greens, cucumbers, and the most delicate little grey zucchini I've seen in years. I bought a deliciously fresh foccacia for lunch, and we also got honey, chocolate and nuts. Sue and Pete really enjoyed all the taste testing along the way, and on Saturday night we had a party of seven for cannelloni and Italian mascarpone tart with blackberries (that Tim and I picked last summer) and we culminated last night with dinner of baked Atlantic salmon, salad and kipfler potatoes with garlic and parsley.

Then this morning they left. Tim and I were a little sad to see them go because they're great company and we've enjoyed ourselves immensely. To ease the pain, we threw ourselves into shovelling some more of the 20 cubic meters of mulch that was delivered to our driveway on Saturday morning, as well as lots of weeding and shredding. The upshot is not only that we've been well fed, but our front yard is looking less like a dirt farm tonight. I have to say, it's such a satisfying feeling to see the results. Almost as good as turning out a perfectly cooked meal.

This evening, in between rain storms, we finally took Ladybug for a well-deserved walk up the hills. She went slightly nuts. Tim and I just tried to keep a decent pace and not think about how tired we were. From the top of the hill, at my favourite spot, we stopped to look around. What I took in was inspiring. Towards the Brindabellas there was deep purple and grey and thunder and rain; to the north, Telstra Tower was shrouded in pinks and mauves and a downpour of light grey; the airport was looking dark and menacing and we were both happy not to be flying tonight; over the south, the sky was clearing and there were actually patches of blue. We watched planes come and go for a bit, and I found myself thinking how much I love this place.