Dear Babb

Our dear friend Babb died four years ago today.

We have so many memories of Babb, a few sad, so many happy. It would need a lot of blips to do justice to Babb. One thing I particularly treasure is her wonderful hospitality, her instinctive welcoming of strangers. There are cultures in which the word for ‘stranger’ is the same as the word for ‘guest’. That was Babb.

Babb’s hospitality included the tumbler sized glass of sherry, and the drive around the 7,000 acre property to rouse up a mob of kangaroos to delight the English visitors. The BBQ at Steel’s lookout was always part of the welcome (extra 1). From Steel’s you had a panoramic view over the property and the traditional BBQ there was one way in which Babb generously shared her world with us.

The food was loaded in the back of the car or the ute, always the chops and sausages, the pan of mashed potatoes and the deserts and slices. The BBQ was a piece of blackened chicken wire balanced on some convenient rocks, and the tea was brewed in a billy (extra 2).

When my English mother visited she was of course immediately swept up in Babb’s hospitality, but she never quite got over that BBQ.