by Krista | Dec 18, 2015 | Summer
My friend T is a great guy. He’s always sending me books, books he loves, books he thinks I will love, and it’s so exciting to open a parcel from him. Once he loved a book so much he sent it to me twice by accident and we had a good laugh.
A while back he sent me “The Gifts of Imperfection” by Brené Brown, and this week I finally got a chance to open it and start reading. What a treasure. I cried and grinned as I read, jotted down notes, underlined sentences, sighed and nodded at so many “me too” moments.
There are gems throughout, but the line I keep thinking about is this:
“Wholehearted living is about engaging in our lives from a place of worthiness.”
a place of worthiness
Not a place of strength, not a place of understanding everything, not a place of wisdom or courage or got-it-all-together-ness. A place of worthiness.
I was staggered by that. Gripped, gutted, stunned, and, as it sunk deep, deep into my soul, healed.
a place of worthiness
I find myself reciting those words as I go through my day, smiling at the instant calm they bring, silently thanking Brené for all the work she did to write them down.
It’s been interesting to think through the things that stress me out and fill me with anxiety. So many of them stem from a place of unworthiness. When I am secure in my worthiness, I don’t wrestle with shame over my weaknesses, I just give myself a hug and deal with them. I don’t worry about what others think, I just try my best. I am not stunned into silence by bullies, I calmly stand up for myself or others.
Looking back I see that it was the ability to make me doubt my worthiness that gave bullies their power, that allowed abusers to treat me shamefully, that made me afraid to love and receive love. Unworthiness breeds doubt, fear, and shame. Worthiness, on the other hand, does the opposite. It anchors confidence, gives oomph to courage, and makes love a beautiful thing.
It’s been such a healing week for me. I feel so thankful for the whole-hearted people in this world who are lights for us in our dark moments. I’m treasuring this deep peace, the inestimable comfort that comes from the assurance of worthiness.
It accompanies me as I pull weeds in my gardens and wash dishes, makes me smile as I apply for new writing jobs and bake bread while the rain falls. It compels me to randomly hug Bear and squeeze him until he laughs. It’s a good, good feeling.
Now I will slice up some lusciously ripe white peaches, finish burning some spoons to ship to America, and watch Arrow episodes with Bear.
Wishing you a beautiful weekend. xo
by Krista | Dec 15, 2015 | Summer
Sometimes life shakes you a bit, jostles the security you’ve been comfortable in, makes you feel uncertain and unsettled. It can be paralyzing, but if you keep breathing, keep getting up in the morning, keep looking for the good in life, before long the bad is overshadowed and you aren’t scared any more.
Goodness does that. Goodness in our friends, in the actions of total strangers.
Lately, whenever I’m discouraged I go to HONY and read stories. Stories of good people, brave, battered, broken, suffering, amazing people. And I’m reminded that we are all the same, that this world is home for all of us and we’re just trying to find our place in it. A place to live, to be safe, to do the things we’re good at, to be close to the people we love.
Such reminders yank me out of fear and put me back on the path of purposeful goodness. Looking for ways to do good to my Bear and myself, our animals, our land, the people in my life.
I’ve spent more time in my gardens this week, tidying up garden beds, nurturing plants withered by the heat, harvesting treasured veggies that nourish and strengthen.
It quiets me to be out there, working among plants that remind me of us, flourishing best when they’re fed, protected, and rooted next to other plants whose attributes make them stronger.
We’ve been spending time with good people, taking several day trips recently to hang out with medieval friends. I love them, love their stories, great senses of humor, and amazing talents that always inspire me and make me glad to be part of this world. It’s so nice to know there are kindred spirits around, people who value honesty and hard work and creativity, and know how to have a jolly good laugh.
We’ve also been making time for creativity. Today Bear and I finished making two medieval training shields for us to use as he trains me in medieval combat. I love working with leather and wood, iron and steel, making beautiful and useful things. I’ve been wood-burning a lot, getting Christmas orders ready to ship overseas, and pottering around the house making messy places neat and tidy again. It feels so good.
And I’ve been spending time in the kitchen making things that nourish our bodies and make us smile. I have so many greens growing in my gardens right now, so I’ve been adding them to everything, especially breakfast. It makes me happy to know we’re starting each day with heaps of vegetables along with our farm eggs.
We’ve had fried eggs on sauteed silverbeet and asparagus, eggs on spinach sizzled with caramelized onion and fresh tomato, and leftover baked potatoes simmered with kale, tomato sauce, onions, and sausage. Such good, simple, wholesome food.
Tonight I’m heading to bed early with a good book. A storm is raging outside and it’s lovely to be cozy and warm in our little house.
Good night. xo
by Krista | Dec 11, 2015 | Summer
I have not been well this week, so I cut back on commitments, stayed close to home, and have been resting as much as possible. I’d love to be out in my gardens or the orchards, but I’ve learned that if I don’t rest when I need to, it takes so much longer to get back on my feet.
So I’m being good, mostly, and it’s really helped. I slept ten hours last night – what richness! There’s nothing like a good sleep to renew your strength and spirits. We’ve been eating asparagus, Lebanese cucumbers, and all sorts of tomatoes from the gardens. It’s so nice to have healthy things to eat when you’re feeling blechy. Especially when you can just pop them in your mouth, no cooking required.
It’s been a good time to get caught up on wood-burning last minute Christmas orders. It’s been so nice to sit in front of the fan, etching fanciful designs onto spoons, cheeseboards, and rolling pins, while watching episodes of Murdoch Mysteries and other favorite shows.
I perked up a bit on Wednesday, and Bear and I spent a lovely day in Brisbane with truly lovely people. We ran errands, shared good visits over scrumptious gnocchi, and I got to finger-knit some reins for our medieval camel saddles while I chatted with dear medieval friends at a training night. My friends brought their oh-so-gorgeous 2-week-old baby girl, and there was much cuddling and swooning over her deliciousness.
It’s been a week of simple food, comforting things that nourish and strengthen. It started Sunday afternoon with the first meeting of the Cookbook Club started by my friend Karis and her blogging partner, Mel, from But first, we eat!. The idea is to choose one cookbook each time for all of us to cook from. That way we get to taste numerous dishes from the cookbooks we all have sitting on our shelves.
Sunday was our first dinner and it was so fun! About ten of us, mostly strangers, met at Fort Lytton National Park and shared a prodigiously good meal. Our first cookbook was River Cottage Everyday, and we dined most happily on Lamb Burgers with roasted pepper relish, Warm Bean Leek Salad, Venison Burgers with Spiced Pears, Chicken Leek Pasties, Beef Lentil Salad, Cherry Clafoutis, Caraway Shortbread, Lemony Muffins, Beetroot Brownies, and Smoked Trout Dip. Everything was scrumptious and it was so great to meet kindred spirits who love food and a nourishing life as much as Bear and I do. We’re looking forward to our next meet-up very much indeed.
Bear and I liked the Warm Bean Leek Salad so much that I made it again the very next day, adding leftover sausages to make it a bit heartier, and served it alongside greens from our garden. Such comforting food.
Now it’s time for a rest as the rain begins to fall and the goats all rush to hide under the house until the storm passes.
Wishing you a beautiful weekend. xo
by Krista | Dec 8, 2015 | Summer
In recent weeks I’ve learned the hard way that not everyone can be trusted. Not everyone is above board. I’ve been reminded that actions speak far, far louder than words.
Promises are easily made and easily broken, and it can be quite jarring to realize you’ve been taken in by someone you trusted in good faith.
It has happened to me before and no doubt it will happen to me again. Disingenuous people often don’t reveal themselves without the passage of time, and by then, all that’s left is to cut your losses and try again.
Try again.
It takes so much courage, doesn’t it? Courage to put yourself out there, to approach new work or friend opportunities with the hope and goodwill that is vital to healthy relationships and working environments.
I find that such courage is often found only after a jolly good cry, a hearty vent against the injustices of the world, and a decent sleep. Then, and only then, can I summon up the oomph to stiffen the ol’ upper lip, take heart, and try again.
Try again.
I don’t know about you, but I find that after umpteen moments of “try again” the whole process can be downright discouraging and disheartening. I told Bear I feel like one of those inflatable dolls with the weighted bottoms that no matter how many times you knock them down, they pop right up again. He laughed and said, “I think that’s a good thing.” I suppose he’s right, but, to be perfectly honest, I just want to stay upright for a while, no knock downs, no topsy-turvy moments, not even a wobble. I want life to be stable and secure and deliciously boring.
But life just laughs when I get these notions, and reminds me of all the knock-downs I’ve weathered in the past, and how I’ve always emerged wiser, stronger, braver, kinder. It is some consolation.
So I take a deep breath and I take those baby steps of hope. I meet that new person, I apply for that new position, I plant that new tree. And I take heart that all these moments of courage and hope will result in something good.
In between those steps of courage, I return to the things that bring me peace: journal on the back veranda, book while curled up in bed, and harvesting good things from my gardens and the markets.
This week my gardens have exploded with tomatoes and cucumbers, beetroots and asparagus, artichokes and more spinach than Bear and I could possibly eat. My medieval friend Sue brought me a whole bucket of ripe jaboticabas from her trees in Brisbane, and my gardening friend Alison picked up a box of gorgeous apricots for me.
There’s something beautifully therapeutic about preserving fresh fruit and vegetables. The gentle cadence of slicing and pitting, coring and peeling, chopping and sorting. My mind ceases its anxious darting about and falls into the calming rhythms of the work. Niggling problems somehow resolve themselves, and I emerge from the task with a settled heart, knowing exactly what I need to do next.
As I forge ahead in this Try Again Week, I take heart from all the lovely people in this world, those who are honest in their dealings and kind in their interactions. You give me courage.
What keeps you going through those try again moments? xo
by Krista | Dec 4, 2015 | Summer
In recent months I’ve met so many Danish people. How I’ve loved hearing their accents, swooning together as we remember beloved Danish recipes, laughing at how strange it is to adjust to Aussie culture when you’ve been raised in a Danish one.
I’ve met them through get-togethers with medieval Viking enactors and at the Danish Christmas Market Bear and I attended a few weeks ago. To a person they’ve all been delightful with a wealth of interesting information.
Our new friend Nikolaj is a talented gardener in nearby Toowoomba, (click here to see more about The Danish Gardener) and when he heard that I was growing elderflowers he was thrilled! Elderflowers and elderberries are truly beloved by the Danes, and they grow like weeds in the damp, cool climate of Denmark. Australian climate is just a bit different (!!!), but through trial and error I figured out how to get them to thrive, and was happy to pass along a couple of seedlings for him.
In return he shared his recipe for elderflower cordial.
Whenever I sip elderflower cordial I’m transported back to Denmark, to the tidy living room of the great aunt and uncle I was staying with. I couldn’t speak a lick of Danish, expect to ask for ice cream – my Grandpa thought that was a vital phrase to learn – so instead of chatting, we’d spend hours playing Uno, looking at old photos, and sipping ice cold glasses of elderflower cordial.
To me it was a magical elixir, something out of a fairytale with its flowery sweetness that wasn’t at all cloying. As Nikolaj described it this morning: “A little bit of heaven and everything summer.” I couldn’t put it better myself.
My spindly elderflower seedlings have shot up this year, well on their way to forming a proper hedge that will furnish me with blossoms and berries for many years to come.
This morning I picked my first basket full, utterly unable to keep myself from grinning like a Cheshire.
I gave them a good shake to dislodge any resident insects, plucked the blossoms and discarded the stems, added sliced lemons and a glug of bush lemon juice I made earlier this year, then covered the whole lot with hot sugar syrup. It’s now macerating in the fridge where each day for the next four days I’ll give it a stir. Once the flavor has fully infused the syrup, I will strain the concoction and bottle the liquid.
The elderflower cordial is delicious stirred into chilled sparkling water, white wine, and even champagne. I also like it whipped into a syllabub for a summery, creamy dessert.
Do you have a drink that transports you to somewhere special? xo
Nikolaj’s Danish Elderflower Cordial
20-30 big elderflowers
2 organic lemons
2 Tbsp citric acid (I didn’t have any, so I used bush lemon juice)
650 g sugar
1 liter boiling water
1. Shake flower for insects and cut off green stems.
2. Place in large pot/bowl with lid.
3. Wash lemons, cut in slices and put in pot with flowers.
4. Mix acid and sugar and dissolve in water. Pour over flowers/lemons and cover.
5. Leave in fridge for 4 days (stir once a day) Sieve through a cloth and pour onto sterilized bottles. Note: If bottles are not sterilized, cordial can ferment and bottles can explode and create a rather large mess.
6. To drink – mix with sparkling water or white wine.