"It's the landscape around me that gives me joy and purpose."
For Edwina, home has never stopped at the front door. It stretches beyond four walls, out into the red dirt, the campground, the garden, the campfires, the long tables, and the people gathered around them.
At Bullara Station in WA's remote outback, home is something constantly being built, nurtured, repaired, and shared.
Not perfectly. But wholeheartedly.
"I love being a homemaker," Edwina says. Not in the polished, picture-perfect sense. But in the real version. The one built through warmth, detail, good food, creativity, comfort, and making people feel instantly welcome.
"A home must be welcoming and comfortable," she says. "I can't stand a sterile environment."
For Edwina, the feeling of home spills far beyond the house itself. Into the campground. Into the accommodation. Into the gardens. Into every tiny detail guests might remember long after they leave.
A hand-picked bunch of wildflowers. A couch people sink into for hours. A bottle of local wine shared around a fire.
"People remember the way you made them feel above all else."
There's no such thing as a typical day at Bullara. Some days begin with coffee shared quietly with her husband, Tim, before sunrise. Other days begin with rebuilding after floods, managing staff, solving problems, or trying to stay ahead of the dust, weather, and endless moving parts that come with station life.
"Managing a large team requires flexibility and patience," she says. "Communication is everything."
And after recent floods and Cyclone Narelle, life has demanded even more resilience than usual.
"There's been grief. Exhaustion. Vulnerability. Financial stress. But there's also been an incredible community."
What struck Edwina most wasn't just the damage — but the way people showed up.
"The bonds we now share with the people who were here during the cyclone will be forever."
Running a station means holding many things at once: land, animals, guests, staff, emotions, and family.
"Huge," Edwina says when asked what that responsibility feels like. "Some days I feel so overwhelmed I want to curl up in a tight ball."
But over time, she's learned something important.
"You can't control everything. You just do the best you can."
So she focuses on the things that matter: good people, gratitude, self-care, family.
And finding joy in small moments. A coffee in the morning. A made bed. Sunrises and sunsets. A glass of wine at the end of the day.
"Don't sweat the small stuff," she says. "I'm really trying to live by that."
Motherhood, Edwina says, has taught her that nobody gets it perfectly right. "There's no manual." But she believes deeply in unconditional love, leading by example, work ethic, kindness, and believing your kids can do anything they set their minds to.
"I couldn't be prouder raising three beautiful and capable daughters."
What does she hope they carry with them from this life? "Resilience. Resourcefulness. Compassion." And an understanding that life will always ebb and flow.
In a world that feels increasingly noisy, Edwina believes the answer is often simpler than we think.
Take time in nature. Love people well. Be kind. Open your doors. Use the good china. And don't wait for perfect conditions to enjoy your life.
"Work out what's important to you and go after that life," she says. But always remember to choose kindness and compassion along the way."
"Don't sweat the small stuff. Because it's all small stuff."
