Here and there and everywhere

I took us to the beach for a day trip, on what I thought might be the last really hot day of the season.  It was really hot, but it wasn't the last one. The water at this time of year though it incredible, after heating up for the past few months, it's at it's warmest right now. Best time for a dip. It doesn't look so hot from the image, but that cloud burned off and it was hot. Real hot.

I'm making a big effort this week to slow down, do less, be more. Not that I don't always anyway, but the past few weeks and last week in particular have just seen me running, literally running, to get here and there. If you saw a lady running through Southern Cross station last week it was probably me. Ok it probably wasn't as I probably wasn't the only one. But you get my drift. Too much has been going on and the only one who can change that is - me!

Having said all that, sometimes life just picks you up and moves you along, or moves you up, or things just start to happen. So there's always a positive and my whirlwind of activity has been positive shifts, so no complaints. I just need a breather.

I'm ready now to fully welcome the autumn weather but Mother Nature seems to have other ideas, it's been hotter here this past week than it was for the bulk of summertime. The zucchini's are enjoying the last blast of heat and I'm glad I didn't pull them out already. It's a job for us very soon, clearing out the vegie garden, adding some horse manure and compost (compost - my compost is the best I've ever had, it's a hot little bin I've got going and it's breaking down in record time!) and getting some cooler season vegies growing. I'm contemplating some espaliered apple trees along the back fence, there's so little space for growing fruit and vegies (comparatively speaking) here in this garden. Then I come back to my question of how long to stay, and - oooh I don't really want to go round in that circle right now. My restlessness to move on has eased for now and I'm just enjoying being here. It's a good (head)space to be in.

And whilst I've not been writing here so much, I've been doing some writing for other blogs and I'd love for you to take a read. The very lovely Judit from The Hands On Project asked me to write a series of posts on the winter season (one of my favourite times of the year) and my first post in the series is now up on her blog here. And the also very lovely Cat from Chronicles of Cat interviewed me about crystal healing, and specifically about using crystals to heal a broken heart which you can read here. I love how she has pulled it all together. And I enjoyed so much the writing for both of those.

Ooh and the biggest find from the last few weeks of my life - baked almond pulp brownies. I started making my own almond milk (here) and with that comes an abundance of almond pulp. Which is fantastic added to our morning millet porridge, and to our banana and date loaf, and to muffins. But I have to say, nothing beats brownies as a way to use up the almond pulp. I've been making a vegan version of the recipe linked above (I've been officially vegan since 1 January) which is just divine.

So that's me, until next time...

Late summer, 2015.

The corn, a few weeks ago. Before Harmony got to it.

I can really feel the shift of the seasons in the air now. The calendar says it's summer for another three weeks, and the days are still summer hot. Hottest so far, probably. But the air is different, the light is different, and my senses tell me the season has changed. Autumn has arrived, the first signs are here. First leaves turned yellow and fallen from the old trees. The shortening days. The different light.

Which makes sense, because early November felt like the shift into the summer season, and early August felt like the shift into spring. I will be watching to see now if May feels like the shift into winter. I think it does, thinking back to earlier May's.

We spent Saturday in Melbourne. I was so very happy to be taking part in an Etsy photography workshop,  as part of their #EtsyResolution campaign that's happening. It's all about helping people finally open that Etsy shop they have dreamed of but keep putting off, or for existing sellers to give their shop an overhaul, with a series of blog posts by Jess Van Den of Create and Thrive. And a real life, in person, photography workshop to help you take better product photos. How good is that?

The workshop was run by professional photographers and I came away with new ideas and inspiration and so much more confidence in taking better product photos. And some help with my camera as well. It was perfect really, just what I needed. A day in the city, a few Melbourne coffee's, a Melbourne cafe lunch, and a photography workshop. So I'll be trying out a few new things this week. It's keeping me pretty well occupied at the moment.

So anyway I decided to actually, finally open an Etsy shop. This is a bit of a big deal for me, it's one of those things that I wanted to do but didn't really have the confidence to do. Like going to a group fitness class at the gym, that was a big deal for me also. I am working my way through the series of #EtsyResolution blogs and slowly building up a shop. You are welcome to take a look, it's a little crystal shop. And it is still very much a work in progress but hopefully by the end of the series I will have it all just right.

The image above is from a few weeks ago. Seems our Harmony horse has a liking for corn. We've now lost about half the harvest, I think. Plus a whole smaller bed of corn, that has all been eaten. She shouldn't even be on the house block, that horse, but sometimes I relent and let her out. Poor girl is usually stuck in the paddock watching Flo pony help herself to all the green pick as she comes and goes through the temporary fence as she pleases. And - green grass coming through in summer. It's been a strange one, that's for sure.

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.

Sweetest November

I thought about calling this post 'how to catch a Shetland pony', but then figured I can't use that title because I'm still trying to work out how to catch the damn Shetland pony. Little beast won't let us near her, but happily scoffs down the bucket of food we give her every day. Breaks out of her paddock as she pleases to wander through the house yard and has taken to eating our pretty roses. My husband refers to Shetlands as the 'devil's horse' and I start to think he may be right. Do you know how to catch a Shetland?

Busted.

November is truly one of my favourite months. I know lately I've been less keen for the summer heat to arrive than usual, but I start to remember how much I love November. The trees are covered in the bright green leaves of late spring, flowers are blooming, the weather is warm but not excessively hot. The best days are the cloudy ones - for some reason I just love the sight of all the new spring growth against a grey sky. We've been treated to a few grey days so far this November, and even a little rain, so lovely to watch. Good for the senses, good for the soul, good for the garden and the land. The chooks have gone broody and are tucked up in their nesting box together, sharing the eggs to be kept warm. There are some fertilised ones in there, so we're hoping for some chicks in a few weeks...

Big shifts are taking place in our little home. My little one, 19 months old, has elected to sleep in his own bed, quite suddenly, after having co-slept with us since he was born. I must say, as happy as I am for him to be growing up and going happily into his own room and bed, I was not quite ready for the change. It still feels strange crawling into a cold bed without him tucked up asleep already. I had no idea it would happen this easily or this fast - I tended to think he might be a bit clingy and not want to leave our bed. I was wrong. I start to have more faith than ever that an attachment-style of parenting will produce a confident and independent little person. Certainly in our case it seems to be so. But goodness, the sight of my little boy tucked up in his own lovely warm and cozy bed is just the sweetest thing.

My efforts in the garden of late have been mixed. There is a multitude of earwig bugs ready to eat the leaves of any new growth, and so far I have lost broccoli and eggplant seedlings, a few potatoes and of course my favourite, silverbeet and rainbow chard. I'm not very happy about the situation. I've also lost some pumpkin seedlings to a late cold night, and I've got some tomatoes ready to plant out but I'm hesitant; when I check the weather forecast the next week still see's us having lows around 5 degrees. The likelihood of getting any cold-protection measures in place right now is low. But I have been building a nice rock wall, adding to some existing rock wall around the 'orchard' where the apple trees grow. That is a success, as is my parsley, my oregano and so far, some red onions.

And I'm still struggling with energy levels and tiredness at the moment. Sometimes the energy comes and sometimes I feel drained and flat. We're settling into some new routines for our days too, some things I've wanted to bed down for a long time but haven't managed to do. Grocery shopping on a Monday. Often times the library on a Thursday. A morning at the playground on Friday's. This is my favourite, I find it is such a lovely way to end the week, now that William is old enough to really enjoy playing at the playground. We pedal up on the bike and stay for a while. We pedal most places around town here, I much prefer getting the bike out for a trip up the street than the car. It's so easy here, I never even feel the need to chain the bike up. Small town life, it's good.

So anyway the post title comes from a line in a song by Sarah Blasko from a long time ago. Another favourite.

Perspective

The honeysuckle is about to burst into full bloom. It is quite a sight really. Way too close to the house, and hasn't had much attention for a long while it seems, but really, a beautiful sight. And the smell, when I step outside for some parsley or to catch a wandering toddler, the smell just gently wafts over and reminds me of the beauty in late spring time. I had originally thought to remove it entirely, but it is winning me over… 

The days are slow here now. I'm taking life as easily as I can, resting well and focusing on the most important things, and not much else. Garden work happens slowly, and we have come to accept that there won't be too many changes over the coming months. All that we want to do, plan to do, we are having to find patience and know that in time, we will get there. Summer is not the time for grand garden plans around here.

Already I find myself looking forward to the cooler autumn days, and we've not yet hit summer. Yikes! The heat robs me of my energy, and the outside jobs wait until later and later in the day.. I think changes are needed to our daily routines, to what we eat and how we prepare our food, to accommodate the different season. This funny mid-season, with it's still-very-cold nights and quite warm days. 

As brown and dry as everything seems already, it will only get browner and drier over the coming months. I know that come June next year all will be green again, and the sky will be the heavy grey that sits so low, which I have come to love so much. Wrapped up in woollens and in front of a cozy fire, my favourite days. But first, summer. I just want to get through, without wilting too much from the heat. For so many years I have been a heat-lover, this change in me to be loving the cold again, it is from some intensive inner work, I guess you could say? For so long, I have had cold lodged in my body, and slowly I have been drawing it out, a little at a time. And I'm reconnecting with a much younger version of me, a me who loved the winter months and hid indoors through the summer. I guess I don't need the summer heat to warm me up so much now. And I'm better equipped in my body to handle the cold.

So many changes are happening in our little home. A little one grows into a little boy so quickly, independent and taking life on his terms. I can't help but feel a little sad, my baby boy is growing up. I guess this is the reality of motherhood, and it is only just the start. 

The Pull of the Season

It is winter. The trees are mostly bare, the days are becoming grey and heavy, and the air is - well, not as cold as it should be. A little agapanthus flowers in my garden, the scent of wattle is heavy in the air. The seasons are strange right now.

Afternoon sun at the change in season, autumn gives way to winter.

For some years now, I have been shifting closer to living in tune with the season. It is not easy, when we live in a society that no longer relies on the seasons. Vegetables are grown all year round under lights and with hydroponic set-ups, street lights make the night into day, the work day is relentless as the economy must still grow (apparently, so we have been told).

But the earth is still the same. Humans are still creatures of the earth, and there is still the rhythm of the season, the beat of something more primal. Winter is a time of dormancy, of going within. Of spending less energy, of keeping warm, of sleeping longer with the longer hours of darkness. Spring signals the time of emergence, of coming to life again after the winter hibernation. Summer is expansive, the energy is high and productivity is too. The gardens bloom and provide much abundance. Autumn is a time for softening, easing off. Slowing the pace, in readiness for the coming cold. And for beauty in ageing. 

And yet our modern world seems so out of touch with the true nature of the seasons. Foods are no longer seasonal. I can walk into my local supermarket and buy tomatoes, if I want to. The shorter day is nowhere reflected in an adjustment to the typical working hours expected of employees, and shops remain open after dark, catering for people still out and about, when in earlier times, they would have been tucked up at home as the sun went down. 

I am stepping further and further towards living in tune with the season. My body has always known what to do. It wants more rest in winter, yet I have fought against it. It wants to keep me warm with a little extra weight for the colder months, yet I have always fought against it. It wants to go for walks outside, rugged up against the cold in warm clothes. I have forced it into much harder exercise, in much lighter clothes, and now pay the price with cold lodged in my bones. My body wants to  slow down, be warm, be nourished, and now I am going to let it.

I want for my son to know the seasons. I want him to grow up to appreciate the beauty of every season, and to experience and truly live, the changes in the season. Not the cricket season or the footy season. No. The true nature of the world around him. Of the leaves on the trees as they change colour and fall. And the vegetables we grow in the garden over summer, then go all year without, until we can grow them once again. I want him to know the joy of a warm home in winter, filled with the smells of hearty, earthy soups cooking on the stove. I want him to know the delight in a ripe, homegrown tomato in summer, and how that cannot be replaced by a tomato grown artificially, out of season. I want him to know that it is ok to slow down, to do less, sleep more, over winter. And he will only know these things because that is what we live.

Do you feel the pull of the seasons?

In The Garden… autumn skies

A little light on with images this week. One of those weeks. We have had rain, quite a lot of rain really. And lots of heavy, threatening skies, with or without the rain. I love this time of year. It is still warm, but the intensity is gone, and there are rainy days and yellowing leaves. It brings my senses to life in the fullest sense. 

The plum tree has been dropping leaves for a while now, they're building up a nice carpet around my little herb garden. But to look at the tree you wouldn't really know it. Not unless you compared it to the same tree in the early summer, before the heat starts to take it's toll. I love watching the tall trees from the windows in the house, at first seeing just a few spots of yellow amongst the green, then watching as the leaves thin and the winter view starts to take hold; bare branches reaching up to grey skies. I could watch the seasons forever, I think.

What's been happening in your garden this week?

I'll be doing this post weekly, on Friday's, so if you would like to join me and share something In The Garden, please do! Any and all gardens, plants in pots and balconies, the gardens at your local park, any garden will do. And anything means not just limited to plants! Leave a like to your blog in the comments so we can take a look. From last week, Simone has sorted out a problem with powdery mildew. I'm taking notes.

Late Summer

There is something so lovely about the end of summertime. The days are shorter, the angle of the sun has changed, there is less intensity to the heat. The vegetable garden has peaked for the season - tomato plants start to brown, with fruit still on the vine ripening. The zucchini slows down is massive production effort, after having taken over so much space in the garden. Basil flowers form, hinting that soon enough, it will be cool, and fresh basil in our meals with be but a dream until next summer.

Daily harvests are plentiful, all the hard work having been done. It is a time for rest, a time to sit back and draw breath, and be grateful for the bounty we have enjoyed over the warm months. Knowing the cooler weather of autumn will soon be here, and the garden work will start again, removing the wonderful providers from the summer just gone. A new cycle starting, renewal, a change, a clean slate to start once more. Beds to be dug over, compost to be spread about, a new focus for a different season.

This has been a tiring summer. It feels like only yesterday I stood in my kitchen, cup of tea in hand, on the first day of January. When the weather was cool, and we wondered when it would get hot. In mid January it got hot. Very hot. And it was so intense at the time, but feels strangely so far away now. The ground is dry, with another summer of well below average rainfall. But we have survived, we have thrived, and now we turn to face the autumn, and hope for rain to fall soon. It will.

Thinking back to early summer, and the prospect of long sunny days and delightfully warm weather. Forgetting how harsh the summer in central Victoria can be. Hiding indoors from the intensity of the days. Hibernating from the heat. Already the nights are cooler, and extra warmth is needed. The whirr of the fan in the bedroom on hot nights is but a memory, and we can put it away again until next year. The air softens, and mellows, and we watch as the transition happens around and within us.

I love the changing of the season.