My Triangle – Linda Sang

Jacob Round and Flick Ruby

A lot of people in our Triangle community know Linda Sang from her involvement in Well Thumbed Books, the Cobargo School of Arts Hall and this publication. Also, she is a prolific caterer and you have likely eaten some of the delicious food Linda cooks for local events. The carrot cake or trout dip from the General Store was hers and pretty hard to resist. But like many worker bees, Linda is often buzzing too busily to speak about her life, so we twisted her arm to sit down with us for a chat, first asking how she found herself in the Triangle area.

‘Since the 1990s, my late husband and I would come and visit friends on the south coast. We loved it so much we bought a 40-acre block of land in Yowrie. Moving from Newtown to the bush in 2003, putting down roots and working in the area, was a complete lifestyle change. Like many, we lived in a caravan for a long time, building a 100-metre square deck with a big skillion roof to catch rain. Even though I grew up in a city and didn’t like camping much, I just loved living in that caravan and then the shed, until the house was built.’

It was the pristine nature and the quieter community that made the South Coast so special. ‘When we first got here, 300 people lived in Cobargo and, although it still feels small, we are now at around 700. The far south coast was just more low-key then.’

Because her work in the city as a chef/caterer or painting film sets and props, had not allowed time, Linda wanted to be more involved in the community after the move. ‘I went and did a TAFE community services course that led me to working in disability services at Tulgeen, and also with the domestic violence court service. I worked in all sorts of different places until I needed to look after Alan until he died in 2011.’

Linda’s life went through another set of changes when she sold the Yowrie block and got a place in Cobargo. ‘I got involved with Well Thumbed Books. I’m part of the five-woman crew there. We each do one day a week – my day is Monday usually – and every fifth Saturday. It’s not a chore but a joy to be there tidying up books, playing with flowers, talking to people and having lots of cups of tea. We sell books as well! It is a business, but it’s also a community hub.

‘Sarah Gardiner, who worked on The Triangle for many years, invited me onto the Committee. At first, I did layout, which for a Luddite like me was an enormous and stressful task. Now my main work is collating, a clerical task that funnels all the incoming articles and inquiries. We produce an issue each month, and it’ very process-based and fiddly but totally collaborative and creative. That’s why I love doing it.’

What was the standout edition for Linda during her ten years helping to produce The Triangle? ‘After the fires, we were galvanised to publish a Triangle that included every voice that wanted to be heard. So many people submitted their experiences, thoughts, pictures and concerns. You name it, we published it. It was our best issue ever. It was our proudest moment, a remarkable collection, born out of a lot of anguish.

‘I hope The Triangle grows and develops new ways of expressing the community voice. Our new podcast is a different direction that I hope will help younger people with energy and aptitude to take it on. There’s lots of other people out there that have different voices and skills that we don’t have but need.’

What drives Linda to be so active and involved in the community? ‘I feel part of a family here. I have family in Sydney and a partner who I love visiting. Here I have a different family, the kind you create. The Triangle, the Hall, the bookshop – that’s family to me. We care about each other and our area. We care about housing, food, water, animals, we care about farming and trees and helping each other. I’m looking forward to Cobargo’s buildings getting up and running so we have a more vibrant local economy. I want to see this place putting down good foundations for people to raise their children to express themselves and feel part of a community. You just can’t buy that stuff, you can’t buy a sense of belonging and neighbourliness, but it can be offered, and it can be shared.’