After not going to my hometown for two years, there were babies to meet, friends to see, family to fight with and new hipster bars to attend. Nervous about the 31 hour door to door journey, Paul and I loaded up iPads, iPods and iFlasks (just kidding) in hopes that our kids would get sucked into a movie and not repeatedly ask, “Are we there yet?!” or worse – tantrum. 

I’m not exaggerating when I say that they travelled PERFECTLY. I swear it was borderline peaceful. They watched movies, ate, slept, made friends and were garnering praise from even the grumpiest passenger.

In Florida they easily transitioned from Aussie winter-time to American summer camp time and hopped on a big yellow school bus every morning to go and play with new friends.

Paul and I spent our days socialising to the max. We ate tv-show worthy sushi, drank while playing Buck Hunter at a new Arcade Bar our friends lovingly call, “Barcade,” bush walked and witnessed an alligator eating a deer, played tennis at my old stomping ground, floated down nearly every river, re-familiarised ourselves with rope swings, had friends come visit from England and introduce us to the musical genre of “grime” and belly-laughed so hard that my post-baby incontinence really had a chance to shine. 

We also embarked on an 18-hour day at Disney with my sisters and their families. It may have cost us nearly $1,000 in bottled water, character autograph books and a light up bubble toy that will inevitably cause me to snap, but watching my kids and their cousins dance under the fire works after the most magical day, made it all totally worth it.

By the end of my trip, I kept asking myself (and Paul), “Should we move to Florida?!” It’s so warm and so sunny. There are super nice people selling boiled peanuts on every corner. My kids can spend an hour every afternoon following squirrels around the yard while I read.

There’s an incredible Target store that I know would help me live my best life. Disney World is only an hour and a half drive. Lest we forget my mum, best friends, Florida tribe, and access to readily available iced tea and corn beef hash.

Every now and then we’d entertain the idea of moving. Paul and I Googled jobs for fun and realised that Florida didn’t offer the same job description we get to have in Mudgee.

We want the job that allows us to be the husband/ wife duo who get to parent, mine coal, write books, write articles, brew craft beer, partake in wine tasting, sell houses, BBQ with friends twice a week, raise money for the Children’s Medical Research Institute, participate in the Mudgee Readers’ Fest, attend R & B Thursdays at the Woolpack and then get through our last working day by drinking Mark’s magical coffee at Mockingbird. 

At this point in time, we know that Mudgee is where our hearts are. As we were packing on our last night in Florida, I added one more item to my already over stuffed suitcase – my wedding dress. After getting married in the US six years ago, I’ve left it hanging in my childhood bedroom.

For some reason, it felt like it was time to take it home – to my home – Mudgee. The place where -5 degree mornings greet you on your way to training and the cast of Doctor Doctor shuts down your street with insanely beautiful faces. 

It’s also the place where I get my best material. After only being back a short couple of weeks, I took some buyers out to inspect a beautiful rural property. They were in awe of the view while their kids were in awe of the abundance of animals and I was in awe of the fact that I finally didn’t feel jet lagged anymore. As we stood chatting about the land, I felt a little nip on my thigh.

Turns out I was leaning against part of an electric fence and my client’s son touched it. We shared a tiny jolt of electricity. The kid’s dad asked, “Did you just get shocked?!” Embarrassed, his child rubbed his leg and avoided eye contact. Then the dad tapped the fence and said, “It’s not even on.” Confident I had felt the jolt and wanted to validate this kid and his endearing reaction, I declared, “Yes it is!” and proceeded to lean my entire body onto the fence.

If you heard a mega loud ZAP and a puppy yelp in the same octave as Camilla Cabello on Tuesday and were wondering what it was - I’m hear to tell you that it was ME. I got shocked so hard that I buckled over. I grabbed my leg and borderline expected to see blood.

Unfortunately my pants were too tight to pull up, so I had to wait an entire half hour to get back to the office so I could pull them down and inspect the damage. Happy to report only two red marks and the climax to this story.

Summer Land is a freelance writer and author of Summerlandish: Do As I Say, Not As I Did. Get a signed copy of her book from summerlandauthor.com, Whatever Mudgee or Gorjus.