WRITTEN JULY 4, AT CURRUMBIN BEACH.  2:30pm

Sitting outside, across the street from the beach (mickey bird just landed, looked me right in the eye and plucked a crumb  from the table).  Within seconds of sitting down I saw the telltale plume of a humpback whale heading south followed by the arcing black curve of its back.

The beach.  How I want to live near the beach.  Tomorrow Helen and I go to Nobbys Creek, 35 minutes from the beach, to view a property.   At 3pm we view another, 15 minutes from the beach.  At this point there is no contest.

The sea is calm, not quite glassy but a frustration for surfers.  It is a series of blue and green striations.  The horizon draws my soul out and away and free.

Flocks of seagulls riding the upwelling of sea air hitting the beach.  Warm sun on my neck after 2 degrees at home this morning.  Mellow and beautiful.  Happy.

A guilty pleasure for R is home minding the animals.  And, as much as I love him, I am relieved to be on my own, anonymous and empress of my time for at least a few hours.  Meet Helen's brother at 4:30.  Helen returning from Melbourne 9:30 this evening.

The last time I really had this solitude was in Charlevoix, how many years ago?  Spent the night alone in the house.  What fun.  Beholden to nothing and no one.

July 5, Sunday.

Found the house we're going to buy:  at Burringbar, NSW.

At first we went to the Nobbys Creek house.  Drove through dark green tunnels on a roller coaster road.  (Used the sat nav on my new smart phone.  I am old enough to be continuously astounded by modern technology).  Met a very fine realtor, Wally, at the house.  The outside was just as it looked in the photos; neat, tidy, conservatively landscaped.  The views, the magnificent vista - to die for, steep rocky escarpmets, a vertical wall of rock at athe face of a solid wall of mountains.

Grounds steep, difficult for aviary placement. Lush.  No shelters or sheds near the paddocks.  But doable.  Dog fenced, carport, magnificent shed for R.

Then we went inside the house.  My heart sank.   I wanted to love the house for R's sake.  Nothing obviously wrong with it; bedrooms a good size, neat and tidy and new, bathroom, laundry, all the normal stuff - but it had no soul.  It was cold and barren and although I politely took the tour with Wally, I couldn't wait to get outside.

Is this what it's going to be like, I asked myself.  Is there something wrong with me that I felt such an aversion to a perfectly normal house?  But you can't force a feeling that isn't there.

Fortunately, oh fortunately! Helen hated it too.  She also felt it was cold and barren.

After thanking Wally we left and had lunch at Mavis' kitchen, an old high set Queenslander converted into a popular restaurant, where I had the strongest coffee I've ever had.

Then it was time to find the Burringbar house.  We drove past and then drove to the sea to time it.  Fifteen minutes.  Parked the car, walked out onto an estuary where people were fishing and followed a path to the widest brightest beach and the white wave fringed sea.

By that time we had to drive straight back to make our appointment with the owner. 

Steep driveway after hard right turn inside the gate.  Flat area on top for aviaries although they will have to be a bit scattered, not enough flat land to put them all in one area (NB no near neighbours to be bothered by screaming birds).

J came out with a toddler and a talkative 4 year old and gave the tour.

Won't try and describe each room.  Oh!  First thing I noticed when getting out of the car, which was noticeably absent at Nobbys Creek, was bird song.  A sold wall of jungle rises behind the house - it rang with music.

Inside, a house of toddlers and a man whose wife is on the road; cluttered and dusty and in some places having a slight gamey smell - but what a house!