by Krista | Aug 2, 2018 | Autumn
One of my favourite things about travelling is discovering good food. Whether it’s finding a new variety of apples at a roadside stand or learning a new way to cook asparagus, I consider any trip a huge success if I return home more inspired than I left.
I found a lot of inspiration exploring Tasmania. If ever there was a haven for food-lovers, Tasmania fits the bill. From the tiniest middle-of-nowhere town with succulent scallop pies made with buttery handmade pie crust, to a posh restaurant in an old church that made exquisite pasta with a sauce that stunned in its simplicity, Tasmania dazzled and delighted me.
On our last morning in Launceston, we decided to get up early and go out for breakfast at Bryher, a cafe renowned for “trying very hard to only use Tasmanian products.”
Even though it was Autumn, and downright nippy, we opted to eat outside so we could watch people and wrap up in the brilliantly coloured wool blankets provided.
I loved everything about Bryher. Its warm, cozy interior with creaky wood floors and big windows, the seasonality of its produce that draws from backyard gardeners and local farmers alike, and its dazzling assortment of handmade items from pickles, cordials, and teas to yoghurt, pastries, and chutneys.
We warmed our numb fingers around steaming cups of coffee while we perused the menu that alters with the seasons.
I opted for the Croque Monsieur with smoked ham, Raclette cheese sauce, and mustard. It was, hands down, the best toasted sandwich of my life thus far. Served on freshly baked sourdough with a dollop of handmade chutney, it was comfort on a plate. Just the thing to warm my bones and fortify me for adventures ahead.
Shirley’s dish was equally marvelous, with roasted cauliflower, leek thinnings, prunes, pangrattato, radicchio, and a luscious chicken butter sauce.
I love how the simplest of foods can be transformed into something glorious with a special sauce, a buttery crumble, and the freshest of ingredients.
We bid farewell to Launceston with great bonhomie, and promised each other that we would return one day, if only to eat our way through the city.
We drove southeast through rolling hills and over thickly-forested mountains, making a beeline for the coast.
We had no clue where to go, so we just pulled off the highway and took one side road after another, as long as it was going east, and finally found a little drive that dead ended at these sand dunes.
We clambered out, stretched our cramped limbs, kicked off our shoes, and headed up into the dunes.
The trail wended through sea grasses and bushes, leading us closer and closer to the beach.
As I crested the dunes and caught my first glimpse of the ocean, my breath caught in my throat and it was all I could do not to cry at the wonder of it all.
I can’t wait to show you more of this wildly beautiful place.
by Krista | Jul 31, 2018 | Autumn
I’ve loved walled gardens ever since I lost myself in the mists and moors and magic of “The Secret Garden.”
The idea of having a private place of beauty and wonder hidden away from the world was, to me, the most amazing thing.
I’ve seen posh walled gardens in Versailles where asparagus could be grown year-round for the king, this tidy canal house walled garden in Amsterdam with plants that look straight out of a Dr. Seuss book and, this year, a charming walled country garden outside Launceston, Tasmania, the Brickendon Estate Gardens.
I arrived at the end of the day, and had the entire place to myself. For that afternoon, it was my own secret garden.
Built in the 1830’s by original settler William Archer, the gardens were designed to be more natural and wild-looking, avoiding the stark, manicured lawns and prim garden beds of previous gardening fashions.
The gardens grow around the lovely Georgian homestead that is still home to the 5th, 6th, and 7th generations of the Archer family.
It’s a rather wonderful old place, both elegant and comfortable, with walled gardens on either side and a sweeping carriage drive out front.
The Brickendon Estate gardens sprawl over 5 hectares and are dotted with myriad trees that range from exotic species brought in from India, Portugal, and Africa, to simple fruit and nut trees that provide the owners with rich harvests of mulberries, chestnuts, pears, and hazelnuts.
The lone Australian contribution to the gardens is the massive Bunya Bunya that towers over the property.
Isn’t it a beauty?
Shady pathways twist and turn around flower beds filled with frothy blooms, tangled vines, and feathery bushes.
My favourite bit of all was this delightfully dilapidated potting shed. The aged bricks and wonky roof line made me smile.
My solitary wander here was a lovely way to end my Launceston adventures, and I went to bed that night thoroughly inspired to create more beauty in my own gardens at home.
Do you like to visit gardens? If yes, what are some of your favourites? xo
by Krista | May 16, 2018 | Autumn
After a beautiful early morning walk at Cataract Gorge, Launceston, my friend Shirley and I headed south through brilliant Autumn sunshine to check out a World Heritage site we’d seen a sign for on our way up from Hobart.
We took our time, stopping to take pictures, keeping a weather eye open for market stalls selling new season apples. If we accomplished nothing else on our Tasmanian adventure, we were determined to eat our fill of crisp Tasmanian apples.
As we drove, we spotted an unusual tower poking out above the trees to our left, and decided to investigate. We headed along a deeply rutted gravel road that meandered up the hillside, and emerged to find this beauty of an old church looking out over the surrounding countryside.
I love stone buildings, and this one is a stunner with its red roof, arched windows, and intricate woodwork.
Not far away we spotted a graveyard, and decided to visit.
I’ve liked graveyards since I was a child. I’d cycle out to the cemetery in Three Hills, Alberta with my cousins, and wander the aisles reading headstones, imagining the lives and adventures of those who’d gone before us. I found it comforting somehow, to connect with their stories, to be reminded that we are bound together by shared human experiences.
This graveyard was also comforting to me. It doesn’t matter if anyone remembers us after we’re gone, all that matters is now, loving and being loved. That is a life well-lived.
Soon we were on our way again, heading for Brickendon Historic Farm and Convict Village.
Built in 1824, it is one of the oldest farms in Tasmania and has been run by the Archer family for 7 generations.
It is a lovely spot set along the river, dotted with historic buildings and stunning heritage gardens, and surrounded by verdant hedgerows filled with edibles.
The berries below are haws from the hawthorn, and the herbalist in me was aching to harvest every single one of them for drying. Haws are amazing, used for centuries to heal and support the heart. They have a lovely citrusy flavour that makes for beautiful teas and syrups.
The hedgerows at Brickendon also have towering elderberry bushes heavily laden with ripe elderberries. I wanted to harvest them too, and turn them into elderberry cordial, tea, wine, and liqueur (so good for sore throats, colds, and supporting the immune system).
Brickendon is such a great place to explore. Before you begin the heritage walk, you get to watch a fascinating documentary about the history of the family and the property. Unlike many heritage properties, this one is run by the owners, and Mrs. Archer was the one to greet us at the massive barn door, offer us crisp apples she’d just picked from one of their trees, and bustle about the place feeding ducks and chickens.
I loved the old barns best of all, with their blackened exteriors and cavernous interiors perfect for dances and weddings and jolly parties.
Brickendon was home to many convicts in its early days.
Convicts arrived in Tasmania, known as Van Diemen’s Land, by boat, and were assigned a master or mistress who would oversee their sentence.
Brickendon acquired convicts skilled in farm labor, blacksmithing, carpentry, and domestic duties.
Many of the buildings available for touring were where the convicts lived, cooked, and worshiped during their sentence at Brickendon.
The farm is still a working farm, and it was so nice to wander around and be followed by inquisitive chooks, or turn a corner and find horses blinking at me.
This is inside a convict cookhouse, where many a hearty meal was prepared to sustain the men working hard in the fields.
This is the massive fireplace that covered one entire wall of the building. Tasmanian winters are bitterly cold, so I can imagine the roaring fires here would have been a haven to convicts warming numb fingers and toes after laboring in the frigid wind and freezing temperatures.
This is the chook shed, and a more posh chook shed I have yet to see. Even in the dead of winter those thick stone walls would keep the straw-strewn interior snow-free and warm.
The Archers have done an amazing job of preserving their family heritage in a way that educates and delights the public, while enabling them to continue with a way of life that has been going continuously for nearly 200 years.
I find it so inspiring to see how other people have lived and worked over the centuries. I returned home with great ideas to incorporate in our own farm, and have had fun implementing them a bit at a time.
I’ve started with flowers. Lots and lots of flowers.
by Krista | May 14, 2018 | Autumn
When my friend Shirley was diagnosed with cancer last year, she and I talked about what we could do to help her through it. She said she’d love to have something to look forward to, something to focus on through all the blech she knew she’d face, and when I suggested a trip to Tasmania to Eat All The Things, her whole face lit up and we knew we had a winner.
So that’s what we focused on. That’s what we brought up when I’d take her to an appointment or she’d stop by for coffee after she’d been to one. It’s what we dreamed of when her hair fell out and the effects of treatment knocked her flat. We’d picture Tasmania In Autumn with crisp apples and falling leaves and weather cold enough to need sweaters and scarves and cute boots.
But by the time the trip rolled around, life had happened for both of us. Finances were tight, I was ill with an unknown thing that would land me in hospital 2 months later, she was exhausted from recovery.
So we sat down with cuppas at our kitchen table, discussed all the reasons it was more sensible to stay home….and decided to go anyway.
I’m so glad we did.
There’s something rather lovely about traveling when you’re not at your best. Your expectations hover somewhere around “Get up in the morning, see something new, go to bed”, so you really can’t help but be delighted with each day no matter what happens.
We made things as easy as possible for ourselves. Instead of staying in new rooms each night, we rented two holiday homes, one near Launceston and one near Hobart. This allowed us to have beautiful and quiet places to rest, kitchens to cook up the gorgeous food we collected on our travels, and it was much cheaper than hotels. We also got a rental car so we would always have a place to rest while on our adventures, and didn’t have to depend on public transport if we were wobbly.
Our first nights were spent in a lovely cottage in Hadspen, just outside Launceston. It is a charming spot of lush gardens overlooking the river. It was small and cozy and run by the loveliest couple who chatted with us, gave us all sorts of ideas for where to visit, and treated us like family.
On our first day we each bought a bottle of Tasmanian wine (white for her, red for me) a gift box of Tasmanian cheeses, fresh bread and butter, and we were set.
Each evening we’d watch the sunset over the hills, discussing our favourite experiences of the day, plotting our next adventure. We read books and magazines, took naps, had early nights and leisurely breakfasts, and made it a holiday to suit us, just as we were.
We began our Tasmanian adventure in Launceston, driving over the mist-shrouded river to Launceston Cataract Gorge & First Basin, a gorgeous place of spectacular natural beauty and fun things like a cherry red chairlift that whisked us off our feet and took us on a beautiful ride over the water and up to the mountain.
There were lovely gardens to amble through, surrounding a wonderful gazebo nearly hidden in the towering pines.
Shirley and I both love gardens. Shirley has her degree in horticulture and has taught me so much, so we happily wandered the twisting pathways, taking pictures of the peacocks and wallabies who live there. I sighed happily over the hydrangeas, the flowers of my youth in Canada and Washington State, and the magnificent pine trees that swayed gently in the wind.
We looked over the map of criss-crossing trails, and chose one we hoped would be beautiful.
It was.
It wound along the mountain side, curving sinuously around rocky outcroppings and sheer cliffs. Multicolored stones guarded one side of us, while the glistening river flowed serenely below.
I never cease to be amazed at the plants and trees that can grow and even flourish in utterly inhospitable ground. A landscape of boulders would be the last place I’d choose to plant myself, but somehow, things grow here.
Since we arrived early in the morning, there were hardly any other walkers along the trail. It was so nice to find benches like this along the way where we could sit in the shade and watch the river and breathe in the scent of moss and damp leaves.
I loved the mottled rocks covered with lichen and moss, looking so solid and ancient. They gave such a lovely feeling of security and safety.
And these wild daisies delighted me no end, perched on the edge of a cliff with the barest shimmer of earth to sink their roots into. Yet they flourish. Sometimes all we have to do is hang on, and that’s enough to keep us living.
As we walked through the early morning sunshine, the sound of bagpipes suddenly echoed down the gorge. Old spirituals and Celtic tunes danced among the rocks, making us feel like we were in a medieval fairytale instead of a few steps away from bustling Launceston.
The water tumbling over rocks was mesmerizing as I peered over the ledge watching birds swoop and lizards scuttle.
Clouds started rolling as we headed back to the chairlift, turning the forest from shimmering glades to something out of Germany’s Black Forest.
We walked slowly, willing the trail to last a bit longer, and we both agreed that if this was all we saw in Tasmania, it had been worth the trip.
Thankfully, there were many more beauties to come.
by Krista | May 11, 2018 | Autumn
Winter is in the air this morning. With the sunrise came frosty winds hurtling around corners and through open windows we didn’t need to close yesterday, numbing our fingers and the tips of our noses. I hauled the heater out and am opening boxes of winter clothing to find cozy sweaters and flannel shirts and woolen socks. Winter is definitely on its way.
It’s been a rough month health-wise around here, with trips to hospitals and doctor’s offices, surgical procedures and innumerable tests. We’re both better now, the bad stuff has been fixed and is healing, but we’re tired. So instead of throwing ourselves back into the normal swing of things, we’re taking things slow and steady, making sure our bodies have the rest and nutrition they need to recover well.
This recovery time has been quite lovely, especially with the arrival of the cold weather. Snuggling under the covers for naps is even better when the wind is howling around the eaves. Nourishing soups and hot cups of tea are just the ticket for restoring our spirits and keeping us warm. And it’s been so good to have time to watch beloved movies, read books, and just sit quietly in a puddle of sunshine with a cuddly puppy in my lap.
We were able to take our first medieval camping trip of the season, thanks to the efforts of our Blackwolf crew who did the heavy lifting and made sure our roles were mostly supervisory. I’ve never had such a relaxing time at an event, and cherished every bit of it.
I loved getting up early and starting the fire, putting a pot of water on to boil for those oh-so-vital cuppas first thing in the morning. Fezzik sat beside me as the flames crackled and snapped, and wagged his tail happily as one friend after another wandered in, pulled up a chair, made a brew, and stayed to visit until well after the sun came up.
Evenings were the best when the work of the day was done and old friends and new gathered round bearing bottles of smooth whiskey and homemade mead. I haven’t laughed so hard in ages as I did those nights, wiping the tears from my eyes as those lovely people told outrageous stories and groan-worthy jokes. Sometimes I’d leave the fire just so I could look in at that circle of faces that are so dear to me, watching them throw their heads back in laughter or reach over to pat a shoulder as talk turned to the nitty-gritty stuff of life. Friendship can be such a hard thing to find as an adult, and I’m so grateful for these moments that fill my heart and keep me going.
We got home on Monday, and settled in just in time for much-needed rain to fall. It perked up our gardens and orchards and made the air smell so fresh and clean.
After some good rest I got back to work, interviewing inspiring people and writing their stories for Highlife magazine, a wonderful Australian publication that shares real stories of the people who live and work in Southern Queensland. It is such a delight to me to meet so many different people and write about their lives and passions and quirks and hopes.
I also did a photoshoot for a client and friend who makes fabulous reusable beeswax wraps that can be used in place of plastic wrap, plastic baggies, that sort of thing. It’s always fun to work with people whose work I love, and these wraps are wonderful. She’s perfected her recipe so the wraps stick well and mold beautifully around any container. Click here if you’d like to get a few of your own.
I’m doing wood-working and wood-burning this week and I love that so much. A client hired me to design and make a sign for her shop, and I’m so excited about it. I’ve picked out the wood and marked out the shape, and soon I’ll be surrounded by sawdust as I cut and sand and get it ready for burning.
I’m working on some new designs for my Etsy shop as well, including some medieval-style implements that make me happy just looking at them. Can’t wait to share them with you.
Now I’m heading down to the granny flat to get cozy under a blanket and do some personal writing and drawing. These are the things that calm and settle me and help me heal and focus. There’s nothing like a bit of solitude and silence to get rid of the clutter in my thoughts and help me figure out what to let go of, what to work through, and what to embrace with courage and resolve. xo
Do you have a place you go to for sorting through things? I’d love to hear about it.
by Krista | May 3, 2018 | Autumn
It’s a quiet day at home as Bear and I prepare for our first medieval event of the season. It’s lovely to just potter peacefully along, polishing knives and oiling wooden implements, hanging linen sheets out to dry in the sunshine and collecting dishes and cutlery.
The kitchen smells rather wonderful as sausages fry with onions, carrots dusted with cumin roast in the oven, and lime beer cools on the kitchen table.
In between projects I rest, recovering from a medical situation that resulted in a trip to hospital and a surgical procedure that we hope will resolve an issue that made me ill for the past 5 weeks. I’m thankful for savvy doctors and clear test results and cancellations that allowed me to get the treatment I needed in record time. I’m especially thankful for kind souls who have loved me and helped me through this, and I’m hopeful that rest, and Bear’s continued good care, will have me back in good form soon.
It has been a scary time for me, so I’m really grateful I had good things to look forward to, like our enactors-only medieval weekend where we get to just enjoy medieval life with our medieval mates.
Our Blackwolf members have been lovely, stepping in when I wasn’t well, doing an amazing job getting our trailer loaded and menu planned and wood chopped. I’m so looking forward to four days with them, comfy around the campfire, while our lovely caretakers keep a good watch on our farm and animals.
Today I took time from packing to wood-burn a few things just for me, and each piece makes me so happy. From the short-handled ladle and Scandinavian butter knife to the splendid dagger Bear gave me. It’s nice to make my personal medieval gear extra special.
Soon it will be time to pack up the food, bottle the lime beer, and get the last of our gear loaded into the car, but first, a nap, and pain-killers, then a strong cup of tea.
Wishing you a beautiful and restful weekend with people you love. xo
