The story of Aunt Maggies
It was 1962 – back when organic food was called food, when no one checked labels, children rarely had nut allergies and a veggie patch was for everyone, not just farmers. In the tiny remote township of Margaret River, Western Australia, one house was abuzz with laughter and the patter of excited feet throughout the blue stone kitchen. A cool ocean breeze blew in from through a large open window, and if I stood right up on my tippy toes, I could see a vast vineyard stretching out into the distance beyond it.
Today was my favourite day of the week: Sunday at Aunt Maggie's. Every Sunday I remember (until I left home at the tender age of 18) was spent here with my brothers and sister in this place full of food. Food that made my heart feel larger, my mind sharper and my legs stronger...read the whole story