by Krista | Nov 24, 2014 | Spring
Yesterday I went to a meeting in Brisbane with Bear and our friend, Ann. Thanks to clear roads and brilliant weather, we arrived with an hour to kill in a part of the city we’d never explored. So we locked the car and went for a wander.
There’s something rather wonderful about exploring a city on a Sunday morning. It’s strangely quiet and peaceful, and the only people around are locals on their morning run or making a quick nip out for coffees before the day starts.
It’s a serene time to see a place that is usually jammed with cars and people making quite a racket.
Life in Brisbane is so different than my life on the farm, and I find it quite fascinating to mosey along streets lined with towering apartment buildings, smart cafes closed for the weekend, and billboards featuring items I grow a few meters from our back door.
Hidden among the swathes of concrete are tiny gardens and clusters of trees, potted palms and precious stretches of real grass. Seeing them is like spotting old friends in a crowd of strangers. They make me smile.
At last we find a restaurant that is open. It’s housed in a rather grotty hotel whose dining area is a baffling mix of faux Turkish detail and Dr. Seussian Christmas decor. It’s ghastly and I love it. It feels like I’m traveling again, especially when the European girl serving us can barely speak a word of English and thoroughly messes up our order. I’m so delighted I can’t stop smiling and Bear just shakes his head in wonderment at me. Thankfully the decor and service is no reflection on the food. My latte is perfection and the hash browns delectably crisp and piping hot. I’m a happy camper.
I find it inspiring to go places I’ve never been before, to see different ways of doing things. It jolts me out of my comfort zone and makes me think about why I do what I do. I wouldn’t choose to live in the city, but I do like visiting it. Very much indeed.
How about you? Are you a city person? What is your favorite city to visit?
by Krista | Nov 20, 2014 | Spring
It’s a beautifully quiet morning at home after a wild storm blew in late yesterday afternoon. It’s been wickedly hot and dry here in Queensland, so when we looked up to see heavy, dark clouds on the horizon, we hoped for rain but held that hope in an open hand.
Much to our delight, the first drops fell just as we were nearing home from a day in town, and as we pulled up to our gate, I jumped out to open it and got gloriously drenched.
We made a mad dash for the house as almighty gusts hurtled rain at us in sheets, and decided instantly that our afternoon break must be held on the back veranda.
Bear poured us icy glasses of homemade green apple soda while I topped old tin plates with treasures from our stop at the bakery. Then we settled back to enjoy the storm.
We sat quiet and comfy in our chairs, munching happily on apricot cream turnovers as the rain poured down.
When you’ve gone without rain for so long, there’s nothing to be said when it finally comes. Your whole body takes it in, basking in cool swirls of wind that toss sprays of fragrant rainwater on weary skin. It is wondrous beyond words.
We watched in amazement as wood that had been dusty and bone dry moments before, suddenly sprouted tiny green shoots of lime green moss.
Lacy fans of lichen popped up on the railing as the cracked, dusty yard turned into a checkerboard of puddles.
The rain was accompanied by stunning streaks of lightning, sometimes three or more flashing at once, and massive cracks of thunder that shook the house. It didn’t take long for our power to get knocked out, and we didn’t mind one bit. As the power disappeared, our to-do lists vanished with it. Without electricity we couldn’t do cooking or laundry, there was no writing of books or editing of photos, no using power tools or wood-burning implements. We could well and truly rest with nary a hint of guilt or pressure.
It was a truly delicious respite that restored our bedraggled spirits.
After our sojourn on the veranda, Bear got a brainwave for a project he’d been contemplating for months and dashed down to the shed to see if it would work. I seized the chance to start the new book I’d found at the dump shop, and made a cozy nest in bed right under the window where I could glance up to the storm in between tales. Soon I was shaking with laughter as I read one hilarious and ridiculous story after another.
It was just what we needed.
What is your favorite thing to do when storms knock out your power? xo
by Krista | Nov 17, 2014 | Spring
After several weeks of feeling stronger and healthier, my body has taken a few steps back, and it’s time to rest awhile.
In some ways, these moments are difficult. Plans must be set aside, dreams put on hold, and my world made smaller and more manageable. In other ways, I’m thankful. It’s an ever present reminder that my worth is not in what I can accomplish or perform, but simply in who I am.
It’s a good time to really slow down and savor things. Since everything takes effort and leaves you exhausted afterwards, you only choose the things that are truly important.
Like walking through a friends garden and sighing happily over her amazing rambling roses and the tree laden with beautiful nectarines, eating ripe tomatoes off the vine, and spotting plump blueberries ready for picking.
There are a lot of naps, 30 minutes of rest that ease the pain and renew strength, and many cups of chamomile tea to soothe and calm. I was so excited to see real chamomile blooming in my garden this week. A gift from a friend, they are such cheery little things that will make lovely cups of tea.
Laundry and other chores only get tackled one step at a time. It takes longer, much longer, but I learn again that my worth is not in how tidy my house is or how organized the rooms are. Those things are lovely when they happen, but they’re just things, they’re not me. It’s hard to remember that sometimes.
I’ve set up a futon daybed in my office and topped it with a quilt and pillow. It makes it so much easier to work and rest, work and rest. I turn the fan on and close my eyes, smiling at the little peeps coming from the newly hatched chicks tucked up in their pen nearby. After awhile, I’m ready to edit a few more photos, write a few more lines.
Food is simple too. No lavish banquets or complicated recipes, just things that are easy to make and taste good: ripe fruit, garden veggies, fresh eggs, bakery rolls, shaved ham.
While I wouldn’t choose this time, I’m learning to rest in it, to care for myself and my loves as I’m able, and trust that it will get better.
How do you care for yourself when you’re unwell? xo
by Krista | Nov 13, 2014 | Spring
It’s mid-morning in my office. A candle flickers cheerily while the washing machine gurgles, shimmies, and whirs through its cycles. Ducklings peep outside my window and sunlight filters down through wind-tossed branches onto the floor.
It’s lovely to be home.
Slowly but surely I’m getting back into a routine that feels good. Writing the history book was all-consuming the last few months, numerous delays causing a backlog of other projects. Now I’m playing catch-up while trying to make time for needful rest.
It’s been wonderful to get back to working with Bear on our farm. We’ve really missed that partnership, the time and energy to tackle projects together. The last few days have been spent outside working on orchards two and three, digging through rock hard soil with crowbar and shovel to get all sorts of things planted. We’ve got blisters and sore muscles aplenty now, but we’ve also got fantastic results: chestnuts and hazelnuts, bush lemons, limes, and apricots, raspberries and gooseberries, wine and table grapes. In the days ahead we’ll finish fencing the orchards, covering them with vital bird netting, and putting in drip water systems to keep them thriving even during drought. I’m so excited to see it all in a few years when everything is established and flourishing.
Through this book project, I’ve seen how I put inordinate pressure on myself to do it all, all at once. But it’s just not possible. Not for me, anyways. And I’m learning to be gentle with myself, to take time to celebrate one achievement before tackling another. It’s been good. So good. I feel present in my life instead of hurtling along like an express train.
I’m practicing enjoying each thing I’m doing, be it laundry or editing photos, sorting through paperwork or checking on animals. I don’t want to be just a list-checker-off-er, I want to be a list delight-er, a life savor-er.
It’s a much more peaceful life, truly healing and nourishing. I now find myself evaluating my day on how I experienced it, rather than how I performed it, and that makes me smile.
I’m also working on building good work into my life. There will always be unpleasant tasks we must do or unpleasant people we must work with for a time, but when I have a choice, I’m choosing work I love with people I love, trust, and respect.
Right now I’m working on two books that bring me great happiness. One is a black and white photo book of Italy, the other is a homemade Christmas book. Both feed my creative soul and inspire me no end. It’s so nice to step into my office with excitement and anticipation, squirrel away making beautiful things for a few hours, then head back outside to our beloved farm.
I’m so thankful to be in this place.
What work is bringing you happiness this week? xo
by Krista | Nov 10, 2014 | Spring
It has been such a peaceful and relaxing weekend, full of all the good, happy things that nourish and restore a battered body and spirit. It’s been so lovely to have this little break, to be able to dream and plan and talk over all sorts of ideas with Bear without any pressure to do anything until later. I read three books, watched all sorts of interesting movies from the library, and napped as often as possible. We ate potato salad and fresh asparagus and homemade brioche toasted and topped with mayonnaise and the ripest of Roma tomatoes. It was just what I needed, what we needed. We’re ready to face the world again.
Early last week we received a phone call from Oma urging us to get over to her place as soon as humanly possible to help use up her outrageous bumper crop of broad beans. So we packed up buckets and water bottles, tracked down fly spray, sunhats, and boots, and we were off.
I love Oma and Opa’s place with its babble of turkeys, ducks, and chickens, friendly dogs running about, and dirt tracks meandering around old barns and past fields of barley. It’s a comfy place, unpretentious and thoroughly welcoming.
On this morning, the heat was blistering, hitting us full in the face as we climbed out of the car. And flies must’ve been hosting a convention in the broad bean patch, for they were EVERYWHERE, dive bombing us with glee.
But even sweltering temperatures and hordes of flies couldn’t detract from the incredible beauty of flowering fields, blue skies, and good mates.
Oma wasn’t kidding when she suggested that we bring a trailer instead of buckets to collect broad beans. The bushes were covered with huge pods stuffed with fat beans.
I’d never eaten, seen, or picked a broad bean until this Spring, and I find them quite interesting veggies. The insides of the pods are lined with a soft, natural fleece that pillows each bean like a sleeping bag. I remember watching an episode of River Cottage where the host said that if he could come back to earth as a vegetable, he would choose to be a broad bean because it’s so cozy in their pods.
With such a bumper crop of big beans, it didn’t take long to fill our buckets. A good thing too, for we were melting.
Nothing quite like picking beans hunched over in searing sunshine to put color in your cheeks. 🙂
It was worth it though. Bear and I ended up with four buckets of broad beans, ready to be turned into beans on toast, packets of beans for the freezer, or a broad bean version of hummus.
We packed up the buckets and gratefully cranked up the air conditioning as we drove slowly back to the house.
A while ago Oma and Opa’s house burned to the ground. Instead of hiring someone to rebuild for them, these spry 80-somethings decided to do it themselves!! Every day they’re outside cutting sheet rock, spray painting railings, or taking measurements for windows and doors. While they potter away, they’re living in a caravan on the farm, and have turned the newly built basement into a multi-purpose room that serves as kitchen, dining room, store house, you name it. Oma even has big hunks of prosciutto curing in the back. They amaze me.
They welcomed us in to the cool basement and we had a jolly time swapping stories and sipping glass after icy glass of Oma’s magical raspberry cordial. For years I wondered what all the fuss was about in Anne of Green Gables regarding raspberry cordial. Now I know. It is truly bliss in a glass.
Have you ever grown, picked, or cooked with broad beans? What is your favorite way to use them? xo
There’s something rather wonderful about exploring a city on a Sunday morning. It’s strangely quiet and peaceful, and the only people around are locals on their morning run or making a quick nip out for coffees before the day starts.
Life in Brisbane is so different than my life on the farm, and I find it quite fascinating to mosey along streets lined with towering apartment buildings, smart cafes closed for the weekend, and billboards featuring items I grow a few meters from our back door.
Hidden among the swathes of concrete are tiny gardens and clusters of trees, potted palms and precious stretches of real grass. Seeing them is like spotting old friends in a crowd of strangers. They make me smile.
At last we find a restaurant that is open. It’s housed in a rather grotty hotel whose dining area is a baffling mix of faux Turkish detail and Dr. Seussian Christmas decor. It’s ghastly and I love it. It feels like I’m traveling again, especially when the European girl serving us can barely speak a word of English and thoroughly messes up our order. I’m so delighted I can’t stop smiling and Bear just shakes his head in wonderment at me. Thankfully the decor and service is no reflection on the food. My latte is perfection and the hash browns delectably crisp and piping hot. I’m a happy camper.
I find it inspiring to go places I’ve never been before, to see different ways of doing things. It jolts me out of my comfort zone and makes me think about why I do what I do. I wouldn’t choose to live in the city, but I do like visiting it. Very much indeed.
