by Krista | Oct 3, 2016 | Spring
It is dark and blustery this morning, rain pelting the windows and drenching everything in sight. It’s cold and wild and absolutely wonderful.
We are home again after a lovely little jaunt to stay with our friends Martine and Ray. They are our neighbours at medieval events and we love them. Martine is from France, Ray from England, Bear from Australia, and me from Canada, so when we get together it’s a marvellous hodgepodge of accents and cultures.
Their home reminds me of the wilderness lodges of Canada and the alpine homes of Germany. Stepping inside I felt my heart clench with that exquisite feeling of familiarity and welcome. I was instantly at home and so excited that we got to sleep in the loft.
It was a weekend of utter relaxation. I slept 11 hours our first night, and feel more rested than I have in months. When I finally got up, this was my morning view.
We’ve always thought Ray and Martine were splendid, but their coolness factor shot through the roof when we spotted a Tardis in their back yard!!! Ray is handy like Bear, and he built it himself. It’s situated so the rising sun illuminates the glass and makes it look like Dr. Who is in. It makes me smile whenever I think of it.
We had such a lovely time. Although Bear and I often travel to the Brisbane area, it’s nearly always to DO something. Complete a project, run an errand, attend a meeting, set up or break down medieval camp. This weekend was a true getaway that left us refreshed, restored, and excited to get back to normal life again.
We rested a lot, and spent hours on the shady veranda or curled up in splendidly worn leather chairs talking about anything and everything. All our meals were long and leisurely as we chatted away whilst nibbling on platters of cheese, fresh fruit, and an array of delicious salads. Such good hot weather fare. We savoured bowls of wobbly crème caramel, and ate far too many ripe strawberries crowned with tottering dollops of Nutella.
After a jaunt to the nearby strawberry farm, we bid farewell to our friends and drove home over the mountains armed with lists of recommended books to read and movies to watch. It was a lovely little holiday. xo
by Krista | Sep 30, 2016 | Spring
The wind is howling outside my bedroom window, shrieking round the eaves, tossing tree branches in a wild dance.
It’s been a crazy spring, hot and humid one day, shiveringly cold and pouring rain the next. I’ve never seen our area so lush and green. My hollyhocks and mustard plants are now well over six feet tall, towering above the garden fences looking so pretty as they dance in the wind and late afternoon sunlight.
The past few weeks have been a whirl for me, with scarcely a moment to sit down and catch my breath. They’ve been filled with good things and lovely people and I wouldn’t change a moment, but I’m tired and ready for a rest.
Thankfully, starting tomorrow, I shall have one for a few days.
This week Oma and I finished smoking all the pork and everything is wrapped well in paper and tucked into our freezers for use through the rest of the year. Our massive hanks of prosciutto have been well peppered and salted and are hanging in a dark, cool place for the next 8 months or so. They already smell so good, I can only imagine what they’ll be like when they’re done hanging.
Our pickled red cabbage is done and keeping nice and cold in the fridge to be added to salads, tacos, or eaten straight out of the jar. The sauerkraut isn’t quite finished, but is already so good that we keep pinching mouthfuls from the crock.
Our homemade brews are bottled – absinthe, whiskey, Sambuca, and black raspberry cordial – and the spirits for the cherry brandy are almost ready.
We’re both exhausted from our labors, but we’ve had so much fun. We joke that Oma is the brains of the operation and I’m the brawn. She hands out orders and I hop to it, lifting this, pouring that, fetching sugar and spices and bags of salt, clambering in and out of the smoker as she hands me bacon and speck and pickled pork to hang inside. Bear keeps us well supplied with meat hooks and wire and does all the sharpening of knives and fixing of implements to make our jobs easier. It’s been quite the team operation.
On work days we take turns making lunches and cuppas for each other. I always love when it’s Oma’s turn to make lunch because she teaches me all sorts of Hungarian recipes using homemade pasta, fresh tomatoes, capsicum, onion, and garlic, loads of proper paprika shipped over from Hungary, and her own prosciutto, bacon, and speck.
This week she taught me the beloved Hungarian street food – langos. She said when they would make bread, they’d always set aside a few small pieces of dough to make langos. They’d stretch it out quite thin, making sure it doesn’t tear, then pop it into a hot pan sizzling with oil and garlic. The trick to getting langos crispy on the outside and soft on the inside is not to mess with it. No pressing, no shaking, no mussing about with it while it’s cooking. Just leave it on one side until it puffs up beautifully and is golden brown, then flip it over and leave for another 5 minutes or so.
It’s best eaten hot with any variety of toppings. We ate ours with plain Greek yogurt mixed with fresh dill and salt. Sour cream is the more traditional choice, but the yogurt is just as nice.
I never thought that bread would keep us going all afternoon, but we were both still full by late afternoon. Such delicious, simple, and inexpensive fare. I’m smitten.
What’s your favorite simple lunch? xo
by Krista | Sep 28, 2016 | Spring
I’m hobbling about these days, aching from stem to stern after giving my back a good wrench over the weekend. Bear tore a muscle whilst engaged in medieval combat, so the two of us are quite the pitiful pair as we wobble and moan through our chores and projects, then sink down into squishy chairs and try not to move.
Although we’re aching now, we had a marvelous time at the St. Ives Medieval Faire, camping with good friends and making great memories.
It always does us good to get away for these events, to immerse ourselves in medieval life and return home invigorated from living outside, garbed in linen and wool, eating food that smells of wood smoke and drinking wine from earthenware vessels. I hope to share pictures of our adventures with you later this week.
It also does us good to return home, to this place we love so much and are working hard to build into something sustainable, welcoming, and inspiring.
Yesterday evening I had to be out in the magical light that glimmered through the trees. I filled a glass with kumquat juice and soda water and sat in the sunshine, letting it warm and calm me.
I find it healing to just sit now and then. As the wind sends leaves dancing and the sun warms and birds flit about, the world slows and steadies and, for me at least, it calms my thoughts and slows my breathing and I feel at peace.
I’ve made time for those moments a lot in recent weeks, and it’s helped me navigate some painful situations that in the past would’ve knocked me flat and set my mind roiling with anxiety. The sitting forces me to stop and rest awhile with whatever is troubling me. It takes away the divide between me and it, and makes the difficulty more companionable, as if between us we can figure this out. And we do.
Sitting outside helps too. Surrounded by plants and trees and creatures that are steadily going about their business inspires me to do the same. I think of these words by Lao Tzu so often:
“Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.”
Or, as Bear says, “softly, softly, catchee monkey.”
I’m learning, and it feels so lovely when I manage it.
Yesterday I made slow food. Mexican black beans simmered for hours with garlic, onion, and chilies, shredded pork cooked long and slow until the edges were crispy and the insides fork tender.
Today I’ll spend several hours with Oma doing the next steps for the slow foods that we’re making: smoking roasts, bacon, and speck that have been brining for a week, bottling potent cherry brandy for Christmas, filling jars with sauerkraut spiced with peppercorns, mustard seeds and caraway seeds.
And, of course, we’ll sit awhile, visiting contentedly over cuppas with a cookie or two on the side. xo
by Krista | Sep 16, 2016 | Spring
It’s dark and cold this morning as rain continues to fall, luscious and cool, making our farm vibrant green.
My garden has gone wild with all this water. Hollyhocks are as tall as I am, dill weed flowering beautifully, pea and bean vines shooting up inches every day. It’s amazing what growth a good rain produces.
I’m tired but peaceful after a wildly busy week filled with new clients and meetings, butchering and gardening, photo shoots and writing. It’s been good, so good, but I’m knackered, and today I’m taking a little break to let my body rest and thoughts settle.
Yesterday, between downpours, I did a photo shoot for Plum Deluxe. They’re launching a gorgeous new magazine and asked to feature me in their premier issue. I was both thrilled and terrified. Thrilled because I love the Plum Deluxe team so much – a more supportive and real and loving group I cannot imagine – terrified because I’m overweight and sick, and the thought of capturing that version of me for posterity brought forth all the insecure and shame-filled feelings and fears.
I wanted to hide, to say no, to ask them to please wait until I felt and looked like “me” again. But I couldn’t do it. That wouldn’t have been loving to this amazing body of mine that has carried me through hell and back, that keeps on going no matter what awfulness I’ve gone through. I looked at my broad hips and rounded belly and thought, “I can’t let shame win anymore.”
So I said yes.
And I asked Bear to help me because even when we’re brave, we don’t have to be brave alone.
He stayed out there with me, taking pictures of rigid me, scared me, grieving me, until we got a picture of Me Me. Me with tired but peaceful eyes, with chubby arms and ample bottom and a real, honest-to-goodness smile. I surrounded myself with things that make me happy – Russian tea set from my brother, kumquats from a dear friend, a bouquet of herbs, veggies, and flowers from my garden – and was at rest knowing that even now, when my body is still recovering from the bad stuff, I am loved.
I can’t wait for the magazine to come out because I’m going to cherish that picture forever, letting it be a reminder that no matter what we look like, no matter how we feel, we’re always worth loving, worth befriending, worth celebrating.
I’m so glad I said yes.
Wishing you the assurance of your worth today. xo
by Krista | Sep 7, 2016 | Spring
“Power, true power, comes from the belief in true things,
and the willingness to stand behind that belief,
even if the universe itself conspires to thwart your plans.
Chaos may settle; flames may die; worlds may rise and fall.
But true things will remain so, and will never fail to guide you to your goals.”
James A. Owen, “Here There Be Dragons”
It’s been so good to read again during my recovery from a wolf spider bite. To sit on the veranda under a blanket, or snuggle down in bed with a cup of tea nearby. I’m rereading the Imaginarium Geographica series and enjoying it immensely. As I read through various adventures, the above quote leapt out at me:
“Power, true power, comes from the belief in true things.”
I grew up in a world where everyone knew The Truth. This was rather comforting and assuring until I got out into the larger world and discovered there were many people who also knew The Truth. Unfortunately for my sense of wellbeing, The Truth looked vastly different from person to person and group to group. Each Truth was defended vehemently whilst all others were decried and dismissed as lies and deceptions. It all became a confused muddle and for awhile there, I couldn’t believe in anything because nothing made sense.
For awhile that unbelief was deep comfort to me, a respite from wrestling and wondering, studying and agonizing. I could just be and look and wonder and discover and think. It was exquisite. As my soul and mind and body healed, I was able to start adding things to my treasure trove of thoughts: luminous ideas, stories, and ideals, things that supported what I cherish most.
I love the line “belief in true things” because it’s not limited to one dogma or creed, it’s a beautiful gathering of truths, collected one by one from experiences and observations and myths and songs and poems, nature and humanity, history and folklore until they form a precious assortment of truths that ground and fortify and inspire me each day.
As I talked with my counsellor this morning, we were both a bit teary at the wonder of being able to gather truths to our souls, to pluck them like flowers and hold them close, letting them breathe comfort and courage and strength into every part of us, watching in amazement as they heal the broken parts, soothe the weary ones, and give courage to the shaken pieces. How lucky we humans are to get to shrug (or pry!) off old lies that shame and cripple, and take on truths that nourish all the good things in us so we can thrive.
Bear and I were talking this week about betrayal, rejection, loss, and how destabilizing they are, how they unsettle and disconcert. We’ve seen anew that the way for us to face them is twofold: be yourself and believe true things.
Be yourself. Believe true things.
I’ve been mulling those two thoughts over and over this week, and they’ve brought me such peace and good purpose. We’ve had such fun being ourselves, spending hours doing things that make us happy and make our lives better.
I made strawberry lemon shortbread with strawberry liqueur and bush lemon zest and he restored an old chest of drawers.
I bottled 150 litres of apple and plum wine, he made a new drafting table for his workshop.
I weeded gardens and harvested ginormous turnips and beetroots, he designed and built new frames and feeders for the goose pens.
In between we hung out together, fixing up my bicycle, chatting on the veranda, checking on our baby animals. We read and snoozed and worked like mad, and loved it all.
Be yourself. Believe true things. Such good thoughts to carry with me on this oh-so-blustery day.
