Idle Chat

I thought yet again that I was going to let go of this space, finish up writing here, but apparently not so. In my meditation, this blog kept coming to me, and in my dreams I was shown again that this blog is to stay. Far be it from me to question guidance like that, and I suppose I better show up and write something again too.

We let go of our little chickens. That was the hardest I've ever had to deal with in terms of chickens. We've lost chickens to cold, dogs and illness; we've re-homed chickens, and I left our last lot behind when I couldn't bring them to town with us, and it has always been, not necessarily easy, but just necessary. When we moved into our little house in this little city I suppose I/we were feeling disconnected from the country, and we missed our chookies so much. So in the little space we had, we got two beautiful Rhode Island Reds, Beryl and Beatrice, and had a little house for them in the garden. I got so attached to those two, probably because they were the most cuddly chickens we've ever had, and the cheekiest, and the friendliest. But as life would have it, the benefits of our feathered friends were outweighed by the extra burden on me to keep them and eventually I had to accept that, as long as we're in this house, we won't keep chickens. We found a lovely new home for them, but gosh, the sadness when they left. I cried a lot that afternoon. I wanted to show my boy that it's ok to cry when we're sad. He cried too, not so much over the chickens, but for the box they left in - from our new vacuum cleaner (months ago) that he's been using as his dryer ever since. So we both did some crying. It's life hey. Better processed and dealt with than not.

I'm missing having more space and being in the country like mad, but I'm working hard on focusing on the positive aspects of where we are. I've been experiencing so much resistance to being here, and I know it stems from the circumstances surrounding why we are here. As a friend pointed out to me, "you didn't choose to come here; you chose to leave where you were". And she was spot on. It was a rushed, spur of the moment decision and where we ended up was dependent on what was available quickly and easily. And not to take away anything from where we live, we have a beautiful, happy home. But whatever the circumstances I've been feeling stuck. That desire to move on, find something more suitable, has been burning strongly, and I've been countering it with focusing my thoughts on stability. Letting myself feel whatever there is to be felt, doing yoga to move through it, finding postures that require stability. It all helps. Giving myself space to really, deeply reflect on what I do want, when we do move on from here. And goodness knows when that will be, I wonder if after all my resistance we might even end up staying here for a good time. Who knows. Moving house often is definitely a strength of mine, be that good or bad (but hey let's leave polarities behind, shall we?), it is what it is, and my only real concern is providing a the best possible home for my boy, and me too.

And it's nearly Christmas again, and I think back to what I wrote heading into Christmas last year (here) and not much has changed. I'm really not comfortable with the idea of Christmas, and my internal discomfort is growing. Funnily enough, I'm more willing than ever to celebrate Jesus in any way, shape or form, but not in the commercial, thoughtless, plastic way that Christmas is rammed down our throats by corporate giants. So I don't know what we will do on Christmas Day in this house yet. Or what to tell my toddler about Christmas. The whole thing is so pervasive in society. At the library, a kind lady gives him a stamp on his hand - and it's a Christmas tree. The marketing in shops, tinsel everywhere (for months now), people very kind-heartedly asking 'what's Santa going to bring you' without a thought that perhaps, for us, there is no Santa. And wondering how the heck to handle this with a 2 year old. Lots of conversations to be had, for many years to come, and lots of expectations to be managed. Wanting to give him the joy of childhood 'Christmas' without the burden of expectation placed squarely by society. The tricky moments of parenting. I will need to do more inner work on this one, I suppose, and see what I know, deep down. For me, I have always loved having a tree in the house and decorating it with beautiful, meaningful decorations. No flashing lights or plastics. Perhaps we can make lots of little clay angels and paint them, and adorn a tree with them to honour and give thanks for their guidance and support. And of course Jesus, we will celebrate Jesus. Perhaps I do know the inner answers after all.

Enough idle chat from me, it's been good to check in here again. I'll be back soon, I promise! (ps I'm having a little giveaway from my shop, details are over on my Instagram account if you'd like the chance to win a handful of beautiful natural crystals!).

The Rhythm of Now

I have written a few times about rhythm on this blog, and it's probably something I could always write about. Rhythm, for me, is so fundamentally important, especially for developing a sense of security and safety in a small child. The things that we do, day in and day out, the flow of activities, the sequence of events. The times we come together, and the times we are in our own space.

I cannot overemphasise how important keeping the rhythm is for a small child, and my own experience, what with dealing with family upheaval during this year, is the the rhythm saved us. It saved me and my little boy. Because at the end of the day, stuff happens in life, some we call good, some we call bad, but the rhythm still goes on. The meals must be eaten. Sleep must still happen. Outside play and work, inside play and work. The tea trays that mama makes and the little boy eats from. It all still happens, and the simple act of doing the things you do every day, day in and day out, is just grounding. For children and adults alike it is grounding, but it is so important in developing that sense of safety and security in the small child.

So now that it's just the two of us, our daily rhythm looks a little different. For starters, we are removed from the flow of the 'working world'. There is no rush to be out the door, no packing up and leaving for the day. We are in our home, and our day happens fully in our home. I actually love that aspect so much, as there is a deep, deep well of resistance within me to the way the standard working world is set up. And this is how I intend for our rhythm to stay. There will come a time for schooling for my little boy, but again, my intention is that it will happen in the home - there will be no push to be out the door and away from the home for the best part of the day.

Anyway back to our rhythm. We eat earlier now. Dinner is around 5pm, which means my little one can be in bed somewhere between 6-6:30pm. Which gives me time to finish off the day's chores, sit in meditation, and carve out a little time to do something for me. We rise around the 6am mark too, so I know my boy is getting his 12 hours of sleep most nights. An early start suits me; I have always enjoyed the quiet of the early morning, watching the day take form as the sun rises. With the shorter days and heading into winter, we spend a little more time indoors than in the warmer months, but really, not that much. There are jobs to be done outside, animals to be cared for, sandpits to be played in, and gardens to be created (one day I'll even get around to planting things again!). There are dishes to be washed, clothes to be washed, floors to be cleaned. Firewood to be collected, kindling to be gathered. Eggs to be searched for, feed bowls to be filled. Water troughs to be topped up, hay to be thrown about.  There is a lot to be done, every single day.

And some days we hop up to the main street, for a trip to the post office or the bakery. Sometimes the butcher, for eggs mostly when ours aren't quite meeting our needs, and sometimes for a chicken for stock. I still call myself vegetarian, but I do make chicken stock for us. It is confronting and not a job I really want to do but one that I feel is necessary all the same. We spend much, much less time doing big grocery shops, as our needs are so much simpler. We will eat the same batch of soup for days in a row, and if we run out of something, unless it is essential (which as it turns out, is a very small number of things), then we just go without until the next time we go into the big town. And even in doing this, I have ridded myself of a few 'favourite things' that I always had to have. Some things are not compromised; the coffee machine does its' job day in and day out, another element to the rhythm of our days.

This rhythm is good. It is busy, it is a lot of work and it doesn't leave me as much time to write on this blog as I used to have. And that in itself is probably a healthy thing for me. The essentials are taken care of, always. Anything that happens over and above that, is just a bonus. And I wouldn't change a thing - I haven't changed a thing. I am just embracing the strong, strong rhythm that we live every day now.

The Little Things

The bright red of the flowers on this callistemon. It struggled through summer and didn't really flower when the others did, back in November. It is in the most exposed position on the property, getting the hot winds and the hot sun. I gave it the odd splash of water now and then, and it struggled along. And then I built the garden bed around it, so it got mulched, and a little more water, and it really picked up. I guess that would have been back in January. And then in early March it flowered. I love these flowers, they make me so happy just to look at them. And all it needed was a little love and care.

The late night dishes. I've taken to leaving the dishes until last in my list of evening jobs, and it has become something of a soothing wind down from the day, rather than another job to be done. I work quietly, as my little one is sleeping. And because of that, I work slowly. And then I discover that I enjoy washing the dishes, my hands protected in gloves, submerged in warm soapy water. As someone who feels the cold, I love anything that warms my hands. And I find myself thinking 'is that it?' when I reach the end, and scratching around for more things to wash.

Spending time with Harmony and Flo. Doing some work with them. Catching them, bringing them in of an evening, tying them up to eat some lucerne. They do not need the lucerne, that is for sure. They have had plentiful round bales in the paddock for months now. But they do need the love. They need the training, they need the consistency, they need the gentle handling. And quite frankly, so do I. The days will be shorter soon, and I will have to start managing the job with a toddler at my side. I'm still not sure how we will do it yet, but there is always a way, and we will find it.

Realising that we will get ripe tomatoes, after all. I thought we were destined for a year of no red tomatoes. The plants were subjected to hot winds in December and lost most of their flowers, but recovered well and produced a decent crop. Being so late to set, I thought we were destined for green tomatoes only, but they are ripening beautifully. Some on the plant, but I'm finding that if I bring them in still green, they ripen faster on the kitchen bench (especially when paired with an overripe banana to help them along). I'm very much looking forward to eating them.

Playing shops on Etsy. I had no idea I would enjoy it this much. It probably helps that I'm selling something I love. It's giving my brain something to do. It's keeping my mind moving and thinking, and my body doing and learning. I have wanted to have an online shop for so long, and I never knew what it was I should sell. I thought about wine, about crochet, about vintage clothes, about soap, about so many options. But none of them ever felt right. And then I had this idea about selling crystals, and it just fell into place, and now I have a shop. It is in the flow.

What little things are you enjoying at the moment?

How To Live A Simple Country Life

I was having a look at where a lot of my traffic here on the blog comes from, and I'm always intrigued at the words used in a google search that finds my blog. Sometimes I google them too, just to see what else comes up, and where my blog sits amongst that. But this one, 'how to live a simple country life', kinda stuck out for me. And so I thought I'd share my completely blunt and honest answers to the question. Take it as seriously or not as you please. And obviously everyone's circumstances are different, and there is sometimes a lack of work available in the country, but to offset that, the cost of living is much cheaper too.

*****

How To Live A Simple Country Life.

1. You need to actually move to the country. You need to stop googling about it, stop reading blogs about it, stop number crunching about it, find yourself a cheap little place in a country town somewhere and start living it.

2. Once you get there, start growing your own food, as much as you can. But be realistic about how much you can actually grow, especially when starting out. Be kind to yourself if your ideals of bountiful harvests of home grown produce don't quite turn out like that, at least for a few years.

3. Get rid of your commercial cleaners. Keep a few must have things, then start making your own cleaners. It's amazing what you can do with a bit of velvet soap, bicarb soda and vinegar. And be kind to yourself once again when realise that you can't actually do it all, and worse, you realise that you don't want to do it all (so you choose a good eco option).

4. Make your food from scratch. Just like getting your vegetable garden established, it takes time to become accustomed to dealing with more food coming from your own garden. It takes longer. There is more generally more work involved. It tastes amazing. It is worth the extra effort. Wean yourself off prepackaged foods as much as you can. It's a process and it will take time.

5. Get involved in the community. Shop local as much as you can, if there are shops available. Make use of community facilities. Go along to community events, be involved in community events. It can be daunting at first moving to a small community where faces are familiar when you're used to being anonymous in a crowd of people. That's why being involved in the community is so important.

6. Realise at some point that you were completely mad to think that you wanted to move to the country, and think seriously about moving back to the city.

7. Slow down and start to enjoy the pace of country life. Stop to talk to locals in the street. Listen to a story from the lady at the post office, drive a bit slower, say hello to the man who delivers the gas bottles. It's addictive, once you developing a liking for a slower pace of life.

8. Get chickens. Chickens are amazing. They need a secure place to rest at night, and a decent sized chook run if you aren't letting them free-range. Watch them and be entertained. They can be messy if they get into your garden. Marvel at how good your frittata's taste using eggs from your own hens.

9. Write a blog about it!

Basically, if you're thinking about moving to the country, there comes a point where you either decide that you will do it, or you won't. I'm not saying don't do your homework about it. It's a big decision, a life changing decision. It seems there a lot of people living in cities wondering about changing it all up for a simple country life. It can totally be done, but like anything you think will make your life better - it looks glittery from the outside and may not sparkle quite how you think it should. But it sparkes, alright.

What do you think it takes to live a simple country life? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Season of Abundance

A little boy's harvest basket, full of acorns from Nana's house.

 I really love this time of year. From late summer into early and then mid-autumn, when the garden that we've worked so hard to keep going in the heat of summer rewards us with so much delicious produce. My little boy is absolutely loving doing the 'harvesting'. I guess he learned about it when we pulled out the first bed of potatoes, and his little eyes boggled at all the potatoes to be found in the ground. That was a good six weeks ago now I think. And since then, his mission every single day has been to get a harvest. So off he goes with his harvest basket, and fills it up with whatever he can find. Still-green tomatoes (that generally ripen after picking anyway), green strawberries, tiny beans, handfuls and handfuls of spring onions, the occasional squash (after I alerted him to their existence), peppercorns, not-yet-ripe olives, parsnips, beetroot. The only thing he doesn't get is the zucchini's because mama has to cut them off with a knife (best trick ever to prevent a toddler picking them) and the pumpkins, thankfully.

He loves it. Granted we've eaten about 5 beans in the house, and he's had probably a total of three ripe strawberries, but sometimes it's more important for the little one to learn. About growing food, about when to harvest (and when to leave things alone, we're slowly getting there), about eating what we grow in the garden. He loves eating food from the garden, and I love that he happily eats all his vegetables. 

Big zucchinis, after being away for a few rainy days.

I'm surprised by the volume and variety of food we've been able to produce this season, to be honest. If you asked me back in October or November, I probably would have said we'd be lucky to get anything growing for the summer. But after a while, the setbacks sort of disappeared and things started to grow. In little spots that we prepared very hastily (dig a hole, add compost, plant). A dose of rain here and there helped things along, and before we knew it we had a substantial vegetable garden (two, actually). I reached a point where I knew I couldn't plant anything more, even though I wanted to, as I simply couldn't keep up with the watering required, I just didn't have the time. Which was a good thing, really.

So we've picked all the beetroot, and corn, and potatoes (so many potatoes, yay!). And we've had so many little yellow tomatoes, despite so many tiny ones being picked by little toddler hands. I lost a pot full of leeks in an afternoon harvest frenzy, and a late planting of beetroots that were just starting to take hold nicely. The parsnips have recently come out, although I do have another group planted that little toddler doesn't yet know about. Zucchini's are coming in by the bucket load - I planted four plants. We probably didn't need four plants but I really do love having too many zucchini's. It's just a summer thing. From the fruit trees we had plums, nectarines and the odd apple. The low down apples were all picked very early on by toddler hands, and the almost ready high up apples were munched away by a horse. As was the lone pear on our little pear tree, and half the tree for that matter too. 

I had a hard time harvesting the beetroots in this wine barrel, they just looked so pretty.

So I need to wise up in years to come to make sure some of the produce actually makes it into the kitchen. But really, I'm happy with everything for this year. I've had my hands full dealing with everything that has made it's way into the kitchen and I don't know that I could have dealt with much more this time around. And now the silverbeet is finally starting to produce wonderful things for us (how I have missed having a constant supply of silverbeet), some broad beans are starting to grow from a recent toddler planting mission, and some cabbages and cauliflowers are doing quite well in the bed we first harvested potatoes from. And my mind is turning to the autumn jobs, pulling out all the tomatoes, thinking about planting peas and broccoli and more broad beans. I think we will plant a lot of broad beans this year, I still don't really know where things will find their permanent home in the garden so I figure I might as well plant lots of things that will improve the soil. Potatoes to break up hard packed areas over summer, broad beans for a bit of extra nitrogen during the cooler months. 

I really do love this garden toil. And I'm seeing just how much my little boy loves it too. And this is the season to enjoy the abundance, and that is what I am doing.

How is your March looking? Are you enjoying the autumn garden or gearing up for the summer to come?

A chicken story and a giveaway winner

Dot and Flossy

Back in November, we had a little Wyandotte chick hatch. She grew into the most beautiful little chicken you can imagine, and we named her Dot. She was a really happy little lady, followed her mama hen around everywhere. Then when she was about 10 weeks old, she got a funny leg - like one leg was just giving way and couldn't support her. It was not very nice. So we took her to the vet, who told us she had a temperature and gave us antibiotics for her. We had to keep her quarantined for a week, away from the other chickens and her mama hen.

We kept her up near the house, and at night she slept in a cat carrier that we tucked away in the laundry. She took it all in her stride, although she seemed a bit depressed, and the leg got better. I was surprised to be honest, chickens are not alway the hardiest creatures. But I'm glad we took her to the vet, as she pulled through beautifully. However, when we took her back to the chook run, she was rejected by all the others. Her mama hen didn't want to know about her. She was so, so sad. And it made me so sad too.

After a couple of weeks, with not much change, and Dot just mooching around, barely coming out of the hen house and just being on her own all the time, I figured it was time to find her a friend. So I put a little ad on Gumtree, wanting a young Wyandotte hen to keep her company. Someone emailed me and said try my friend, so I did try the friend, and the next day we collected a little gold laced Wyandotte, a little younger than Dot but that was not a bad thing. We named her Flossy. We kept the pair of them quarantined for a night, so they would buddy up, then put them back with the others.

I am so glad we found a friend for Dot, now the pair of them are always together, they are the most beautiful little chickens (and so are the rest, of course), and they're back in the good books with the mama hen and her offsider. They have all bonded so well. And Dot is a beautiful, healthy, happy little chicken. I love a happy little ending!

*  *  *  *  *

And so to the giveaway winner. Not many entries people! I guess I've not talked much about crystals and how I use them in my life here on the blog, at least not for a couple of years. I use crystals a lot, for all sorts of things. Such as, I use a nice big piece of garnet to help heal an old scar from when a car knocked me off my bike, and I used it for morning sickness when I was pregnant, and I used it to help my blood after I had a miscarriage. And I used a piece of Tiger Iron for the same thing. And I have numerous pieces of rose quartz throughout the house. And I usually have a piece of Tibetan quartz stashed in a pocket somewhere. And I carry a piece of Amazonite if I feel I need a bit of extra warrior woman energy about me. Anyway, more about that another time perhaps. For now, the giveaway winner is Meg Smith - well done Meg! Thank you to all who entered, I wish I could give make everyone the winner. And thank you for supporting my little shop, it really means a lot to me.

And my apologies for posting the winner a day later than I said I would. We had some really big gusty winds in these parts which caused a bit of havoc and we had no power, and so no internet. It was a wide area of power outage too, it was a bit of a treat to have a night with no electricity around anywhere nearby. Although I did realise how much I like my creature comforts like lights and a warm shower.

Changes

It's quite hard to know where to start writing again, after taking a break. I don't really know what or how to say a lot of the things that have happened, have changed.

I guess there have been a lot of shifts. For me, I have unburdened myself a lot - things around the home, letting go of obligations, we even let go of our dogs and found a new (happy) home for them. That was hard. We thought seriously about packing up and moving to New Zealand. We might still do it one day but for now we're well grounded here, I think.

I am lighter now, in so many ways. My days are more joyful, more enjoyable, less stressful than they have been in a very, very long time. Probably since when I was 10 years old. So for all the sadness that we endured, I feel that it has helped me find a happier, more peaceful place. And for that I am grateful.

I've finally made a few changes to my little blog space too. It's been on my mind for so long, and one of those jobs I kept putting off because I knew it would be time consuming. And it was, and it wasn't. It's good to have a fresh space.

It's good to be back, too. I've missed this place.

Summer Rain

A rainy summer evening. A great big puddle. And a rainbow. A huge treat for a little one. And for the little one's parents too, I should say.

I think this is the first time William has actually seen a rainbow. And just last week, he perfected saying the word 'rain-bow' and pointing at rainbows in a book. He said rainbow lots and lots of times after seeing this one.

These are the little things that make your heart sing. The simplest of fun, splashing in puddles and pointing at rainbows. 

Around Here

Around here, it looks like harvest season is rolling in. Activity at the grain silo's is picking up - a fellow stationed up on the weigh bridge all day, trucks arriving from 8am until 6pm in the evening with their grain deliveries. It's a pretty huge operation, really. I think we're still a little while off the full swing of harvest, and I expect it to get busier and louder (apparently the trains shunting around at night can get really loud, but I sleep through anything other than the sounds of a toddler). It's not bothering me at the moment. Maybe it will when it picks up, maybe it won't. 

I find it kind of fascinating, really. Industrial scale agriculture. I did vintage at a winery for a few years there, and I loved that job and that work. Little people operating big machines and managing big volumes of grapes from the harvest. So I see the similarities in the operation across the road - the fellow  in high vis gear, hanging about on the weigh bridge, overseeing as the trucks dump their loads and then waiting, kicking at the ground with a steel-capped boot, for the next truck to roll in. And repeat, lots of times.

And then a part of me despises industrial agriculture. I dislike the use of semi trailers and their natural-resource-guzzling ways, I dislike the idea of intensive monoculture farming, and this business whereby farms these days are owned by corporations, not farmers, well I'm not a huge fan of that either. But this is the world we live in. And I suspect that most of the grains that pass through this area are destined to go to the port and be shipped off to other parts of the world. Funny that we have such a good view of the whole thing.

I guess this will be our front of house view for the next couple of months. I have no complaints. The trucks, they rumble past so slowly as they're just taking off. It's when they go through small towns carrying too much speed, that's when they bother me. That really bothers me.

Snippets

Sometimes I look around here, this place, and feel overwhelmed with all that needs to be done. The first phase of excitement and possibility of moving into a new house, a house that needs work, is wearing off. The reality of slowly chipping away at things, bit by bit, as time allows, and the bank balance allows, as our energy levels allow, this reality, is harder. We knew it would be, of course. 

The exterior of the house still needs a good wash. There is a build up of years of dust on the outside. The reality is, come summer and harvest time, the grain trucks are going to kick up so much more dust, you almost wonder whether it's worth it. I wonder if I will be able to put washing on the line. But the afternoon light is so beautiful all the same.

The prayer flags we hung already look as weathered and faded as this old house. Quite fitting, really. They've slotted in well. Perhaps we have also slotted in well.

The door. From the first time I saw the turquoise door, I loved it. Someone who lived here previously must have loved it too. Maybe one day a repaint, and sooner than that, a good wash. But the colour remains the same.

The brick paving. There ground is so uneven under this paving, you could step in a pothole and sprain an ankle (not that you can see it here). The past few weeks, my pet project has been weeding and sweeping and cleaning this paving area. This shows some cleared, and some not yet done (and not the worst, by any stretch). With little pockets of time, it slowly happens.

Our home is certainly rustic, I think that is how you would describe it. I like rustic. There is such a realness to it, and it is homely. It's not glamorous, it's not something you would see in the pages of Country Style Magazine, and honestly, I would never want it to be. 

These two

Well, they're here. The horse and the pony. Harmony and Flo, actually.

It has all happened rather fast (like many good things do) but not without a significant amount of internet searching and soul searching on my part. So I'm breathing a sigh of relief just to see them together in the paddock, resting under the trees and eating the grass (yes - eat that grass! But not too much Flo, or you'll be locked up..).

Flo was the first to arrive. She's a little Shetland pony, who has had not much handling by or interaction with humans. And that which she has had, I don't think it has been great. She's not real sure about us and our intentions and promptly heads the other direction whenever we approach. I've caught her once, using this method, but I tell you what, the next day when I tried it again, she knew the game and outplayed me. Tactics that may work with a horse, may not have the same results with a Shetland pony.

Anyway, she's about 6 years old, she may or may not be in foal and she cost us $120. So here she is, slowly deciding to become part of the family and I'm happy she's here (for the price she cost us, I was worried she would end up being dog food). Poor little thing spent a week here by herself, fretting about being on her own, and with me fretting about her fretting about being on her own. Hence driving myself and my family nuts trying to find a suitable companion for her. 

And then Harmony came along. She's a buckskin quarter horse, almost certainly in foal. She's had much more handling and is broken to saddle and thankfully is quite catchable, but has spent the past few years in a paddock having babies. She's in pretty poor condition to be honest. She's about 10 years old, she's a stunning looking horse and I'm so, so happy that she's here too. Come December we hope a little baby horse will appear, the father being a Clydesdale cross Cob type, so the foal should be an interesting horse. All going well.

I have spent so much time with my head in the internet, lurking around Horse Deals and Gumtree and Horse Yard trying to find the right horse to be here, to keep Flo company and to be a riding horse for me. I looked at one that was too big, I looked at one that was too small, and shortlisted about eight that were okay… but not really what I was looking for. Anyway Harmony had been under my nose the whole time, and when I clicked on her ad at the end of the week (after a brief look at the start of the week), I just knew. And she came from the same place we picked up Flo, after all that.

So here we are. The horse and the pony are here. And the relief for Flo when Harmony arrived was palpable, and the relief just washed over me then too. Our little flock of animals is complete, until perhaps a foal arrives, maybe two. Anyway the life of these two right now involves eating grass, getting treats, feeds and brushing. Getting to know us, doing some ground work with me, and making sure they're healthy and happy. It will be a while before there is any riding of Harmony, and that's fine with me. And goodness knows what Flo's intentions are, she may decide she never wants to come near us, and that is ok too. I'm hoping that in a few years I can get her trained enough to be a lead pony for William, but we will see. In any case, this is her home, both of their homes now. For me it feels like pulling on the old favourite pair of jeans, to have horses in my life again. A part of me that was pretty much gone is suddenly surging back into life. And of course, William loves them. 

Snippets of Here

Some snaps taken during our afternoon outside adventures. You know, for a very long time, I considered changing the name of this blog, as I felt it no longer represented where I was in life. And now, I find myself living in a place where the name is more fitting than ever. Anyway. I think you will be able to see from these images that we definitely have our work cut out for us, here in this place.

This little old house needs a good wash and a tidy up. We're in the process of doing so many things, sometimes it feels like we're getting absolutely nowhere. But we are, just very slowly. We pulled up a couple of terribly overgrown bushes growing near the white posts here, but with chickens roaming around every day (we still need to build a permanent enclosed chook run), their favourite place to have a dust bath is right where we pulled up bushes. Hello, dust and dirt kicked up, repeatedly. I've given up trying to sweep it, for now. Note the giant mound of plant, also in need of some chopping, and the great big olive tree behind William. That one stays.

Honeysuckle flowers blooming. Pretty bright blooms, but the bush itself may have limited days left… We shall see. At the very least it will get a hefty chop back. There is too much vegetation growing close to the house, one of our many jobs is to clear it all out so the place can breathe a bit.

The orchid. Currently there are five varieties of apple tree growing here. We'll plant more fruit trees, but it won't be until next season now. It will be good to watch it over the growing season and see how it all comes together. To the right is an old cubby house, but it's a bit too rustic for our liking and will be pulled down.

The vegie garden area. Completely overgrown, but there are four vegie garden beds buried here, with reasonable soil in them too. Also the wood pile in the old water tank and some rustic compost bays alongside. And a drum. There are a bunch of old drums about the place (three to be exact). The paddock sits beyond the tree line here; the trees sort of make up a rough house block.

Just some open space. Not quite sure what this might end up being/doing, and I actually quite like just having open space just for the sake of it.

William checking for eggs. This boy amazes me with how he has taken to looking after the chickens. His chickens, really. He collects the eggs every day, and carefully carries them inside so we can put them in the fridge. In the afternoon, he always remembers to get the chook bucket full of scraps (uneaten toddler food, mostly). He fills up the nesting box with straw, and attempts to fill their water. And feeds them handful after handful of layer pellets. Then chases them around with arms outstretched, trying to catch them. So sweet to watch it all unfold.

Snippets of here. So much work to be done, but we knew that when we decided to take it on. It's a nice place to be. We've been here for four weeks now but it feels a bit like we've always been here.

Feeling the Squeeze

It was always going to happen. There was always going to be a point where I started to miss our little house in the tiny country town. I mean, in hindsight, it was always going to happen. And now it's happening. 

The sun dial moved house with us; I think it needs pride of place in our small backyard now.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining about where we're at now. It's just so very different, is all. There is the buzz of town life here; people, cars, shops, people, people, people. The energy is in the air. It's more difficult to create the calm and the quiet that we're used to. In some ways, the buzz is good for us. But I need to be very mindful of it's existence. 

Town life is busy. Cars and people zip here and zip there. The pace is faster. We are used to the pace of sheep in paddocks and farmers slowly driving their utes around, and ducking across to get milk at the general store that takes way longer than it needs to because you have to chat to the shopkeeper. I realise now how much I grew to like the country pace. 

Last time I lived in this town I thought it was pretty quiet. Ha! Now I fully understand what a quiet life is. Simply that - quiet. Without the noise, the buzz, the blur of people and all the energy they carry. For now, I will strive to create the quiet in our house. By decluttering, by creating calm space, by being mindful of what we bring into here.

I think the first thing we need to do is put some prayer flags up around the house. Somehow, they always instill in me a sense of calm and peace. So that when we walk through the front door gate, we can leave the buzz of town busyness behind and step into our quiet life once again. I cannot even fathom what it would be like to live in a city again. 

I saw a quote a few weeks ago that is coming to the front of my mind right now: the grass is always greener where you water it [not sure where it came from, somewhere on the internet]. I like this. I am not pining for what we had, but thinking about how to create what we need, where we are now. But I realise now how much I miss our little house on the dusty country road.

Finding Beauty

These freesias grow in cracks in the concrete, alongside weeds. This is the only place we find them on the property. Perhaps in days gone by there were more, maybe in the days before there was concrete. I often wonder what this house has seen. Many, many things, no doubt. Many people, many families. Some staying a long time, others not so long. I guess we fall into the not-so-long category. Maybe one day we'll come back. Or maybe we never will. As beautiful as this old house is, it is not the best fit for us right now. We have made our mark here, like most others before us. 

This afternoon, wandering in the garden, William and I chatted to Wilma over the wire fence. I couldn't bring myself to tell her we're leaving. Weak? Yes. I can't help but feel a little bit like we're letting people down by leaving. We brought life, we brought [relative] youth; we brought a baby who the people in this town have been so wonderfully welcoming of. I don't really like goodbyes. So we'll tell people that we may come back, one day when it suits us better, and leave it at that. I will miss my little house on the dusty country road. 

But I am looking forward to our new life, in a bigger town. Where we can truly live our values in a way that we can't do here. And in a week we'll be there, and gone from here. So I'm enjoying watching the freesias bloom, and the oak tree about to burst into life again, and the sage that I planted about to flower. Making the most of here, finding beauty everywhere.

A Year in My Vegie Garden

I was looking back at a bunch of photos from the past year over the weekend, and reflecting on just how much has changed. I thought I'd share some images from my little vegie garden with you. It's been slightly over a year since I first put a shovel on the ground to start building this garden [late July 2012 I started work, around the time we found out we were expecting a baby!]. So this entire garden was built during my pregnancy, and there were definitely times when a lot happened [when I had the energy for it] and other blocks of time when nothing happened, as I was nauseous and exhausted. I guess in looking back, the ongoing commitment to improving this garden has been the key for me. Sometimes I can't get out there for a month, or more, but I just keep going back when I can and doing what I can. Which is exactly how it goes these days. 

The start. Westringias just about to be planted along the fence.

Spring. Lots of digging done.

Spring. Lots more digging still to be done.

It's also interesting to look back on the different seasons. We've lived here for almost 18 months now, so we're still learning about the microclimates we've got here. And what it's like when there's lots of rain, and what it's like when there's none. Last winter was cold and grey and drizzly, but looking back there really wasn't a lot of rainfall. This winter has seen much more rain, and many more sunny days. The ground is quite boggy in places. It's such a stark contrast to the summer we had, which was the driest in this area for about 40 years, according to some of the local farmers. Which is nice to know, because if that was a normal summer, I'd be wanting to sell up and move I think. It was characterised by hot days, drying winds and water tanks running out of water. Hand watering the garden, losing plants and watching cracks open up in the ground. And a baby belly.

Early summer. Looking good.

January. Hot and dry.

January. Did I mention it was dry?

I'm enjoying watching the seasons here. I've been somewhat of a gypsy for my adult life, not staying in one place too long. I've always planted out a vegie garden, but moved on again before a full year rolls around. It's very exciting for me going into my second spring/summer in this garden - it's something I've never done before! Finally I'll get to reap the rewards of last year's work to improve soils, grow hedging plants and use knowledge gained of what worked and what didn't. And when to have potatoes in, and tomatoes, and where the best place to plant beans might be [protected from the hot summer wind which I'm sure will return]. And this time around there is an amazing little person to help me [as well as the amazing big person who is the biggest help in the world]. It truly is a wonderful feeling to watch our garden slowly take shape and become what we have dreamed it to be.

Autumn. Just days before baby William arrived.

Winter. After 4 months of being new parents.

I'm looking forward to the arrival of spring, still a few weeks off here. I'm very excited about bringing this little garden back up to scratch and enjoying an abundant vegie garden once more.