The smell of the dishwasher

I love the smell of the dishwasher. I love it when it’s washing dishes – a warm, clean smell rises from it. When you open the door, there’s a great smell, too. I’m just back from a week at the Varuna Writers’ Centre. Still in a dream. It’s moist here in Bathurst – an amazing thing. The ground is actually wet, footpaths are wet. You forget what it’s like. We haven’t had a first frost. The basil is just some stalks in the pot out the back door. Petunias need ripping out of the front garden, to be replaced with pansies, good for winter. Petunias and pansies are my hardy guaranteed flowers. Out the back, the pink and red geraniums are going great guns.

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