by Krista | Jan 11, 2018 | Summer
Summer afternoon. There’s something so peaceful to me about those words.
It’s my time to stop working on the farm, to come inside and rest in front of a fan with a cold drink nearby. I get to bask in the glow of completed work with animals and plants, then turn to my other work of writing articles, editing photos, and finishing up wood-burning orders.
Those words are also lovely to me because they mean that sunset is almost here, and during summer, sunset is my favourite time of day.
It’s our time to stop work completely. Animals are all tucked into their pens and settling in for sleep. Gardens and orchards are watered, veggies harvested, and writing work submitted.
We step out onto the back veranda, hoping for the first of cooling breezes to curl around our legs and fan our faces.
I never fail to be struck by the view. Nearly every day I turn to Bear and say, “I love our home so much.” And he smiles and nods, because he does too.
It’s hard work running a farm and working several jobs and managing a medieval reenactment group, but we love it. With every fiber of our being, we love it.
We get up ridiculously early and collapse into bed each night in that giddy exhaustion of doing what we love with people we love.
And when things break down and wild creatures eat our animals and hail or floods or heat destroy our gardens, we are still grateful because this is our crazy, beautiful life, and we know that even the hardest of times, the worst of weather, they will not last forever. Rain will come again and paychecks will start arriving and things will grow and babies will be born and, to quote Mrs. Rachel Lynde, “the sun will go on rising and setting whether I fail in geometry or not.”
I’m so thankful for that sun rising and setting.
Last week I found a grocery store selling out the last of their Christmas special European sausages, and there, in the pile, were packages of knackwurst. My favourite. I can never say that word without affecting a German accent.
Knackwurst makes me happy. It reminds of Germany, especially when slathered with strong mustard and topped with crispy fried onions. It makes me think of my German friends and our many adventures together and puts the biggest smile on my face. And when you find a food like that, it’s really best to go ahead and eat it whenever opportunity knocks.
Thankfully, knackwurst also makes Bear happy, which is why we’ve been eating it for dinner every night this week.
The great thing about living on a farm with gum trees everywhere, is that we never, ever have to buy firewood. It’s all around us. Each storm or gale of wind sends a flurry of branches, dried leaves, and strips of bark fluttering down to the ground, and all we have to do is pick it up.
There’s something rather wonderful about lighting a little fire each day, mesmerized by the dance of smoke and light as the sausages sizzle and pop.
It is impossible to be stressed at such moments. If the goats were vexing or weeds had run amok, if I’d had a brain freeze and couldn’t string a sentence together to save my life, well, those little stresses don’t matter anymore once I’m outside. The cool breezes wash away the last of the day’s heat, trees rustle and dance, smoke billows across the yard, and all seems right with the world.
All too soon the knackwurst is smoked and cooked to perfection, beautifully browned with lovely crispy charred bits. Bear has the bread toasted, buttered, and mustard-ed (for me) or ketchup-ed (for him), and cold drinks are poured.
It’s time to settle in on the veranda and watch the sun disappear in a dazzling display of light and shadow.
Yes, I do love summer afternoons. xo
by Krista | Oct 25, 2017 | Summer
It’s a writerly day for me as I type up my weekly blog post for Harrow and Finch, a press release for a new client in California, and my weekly column on country living for the Warwick Daily News.
I like these days when I get to sequester myself in the granny flat, a cup of elderberry tea to my left, and one of coffee to my right, and the cheeriest hand-crocheted afghan I found at a thrift store keeping me toasty warm.
Bear is busy working on his medieval high-backed chair, popping in for a chat now and then to make sure I don’t disappear into a whirlwind of words and images.
On writing days, I make sure that I sprinkle other activities in between projects so I’m not sitting for hours on end. Sometimes I go watch chickens for a while, or pull weeds in the garden, or hurriedly plant a few more seeds.
Yesterday I went for a ramble through our orchards, delighted to find our apple, peach, and plum trees covered in tiny, delicate blossoms.
There’s something about apple blossoms that gives me a thrill every time I see them.
In Autumn we planted a few old world variety apples from France and England, and their blossoms look so different than the original apples we bought. They’re voluptuous and full, and look more like roses before they unfurl into the familiar apple blossom shape.
The citrus trees are flowering too, and smell positively glorious, though the lemonades and blood oranges already have tiny globe fruits hidden among the leaves.
The grape vines are covered with baby grape clusters, and give me hope that perhaps this year we’ll get to make wine, juice, and raisins.
Most of the plums flowered weeks ago, but this fellow is late to the party. He got badly damaged in hail storms last year, but a severe pruning gave him a fresh start, and I think he’s looking rather dashing covered with ethereal blossoms in palest pink.
I’m so thankful that most of our fruit trees survived the horrendous summer storms of last year. We lost about a dozen, but one day soon we’ll replace them with new varieties, perhaps some cherries and more figs, or maybe hazelnuts, chestnuts, walnuts, and almonds.
It’s time to close my computer for a bit, and go out to the garden to plant the long lost seeds I found while cleaning out the granny flat last week. I’ve got Bulgarian Leeks and red and purple carrots, white Celeriac and yellow pear tomatoes, magenta silverbeet and a whole lot of cucumbers for pickling. Can’t wait to start harvesting all this goodness in a few months.
What helps you refocus on work when you’ve been sitting too long? xo
by Krista | Jul 20, 2017 | Winter
After weeks of mild weather, winter returned with a howling fury this week, sending temperatures plummeting and frigid winds sneaking down collars and up pant legs to chill us to our bones. Brrr. We’ve been wrapping numb fingers around cuppas each morning before bundling up and heading outside to work on the farm.
In spite of the cold, it’s a great time for working outside. Hauling fruit trees, digging holes, and pruning trees are splendid ways to get the blood moving and warm us from head to toe.
And the early morning light is pure magic.
I love walking over the farm before starting work. Watching the sun rise over golden fields, illuminating each petal and leaf as it inches higher, is balm to my soul. My thoughts settle, breathing slows, and whatever the day holds is much easier to navigate.
The last 5-6 months have been intense, and I’ve had little to no time to focus on farm projects. I missed it dreadfully and am so glad to be in a new season where I can focus on our home and farm again.
This week I’ve been in the orchards and my tree nursery getting over 30 fruit, flowering, and palm trees ready for planting.
Palms, magnolias, and Virginia Creeper are going in around the chook palace to provide both beauty and shade. Later I’ll under plant with mint and lavender to deter mice and rats.
I planted elderflowers in an old duck pen with a lovely fig tree, a bush lemon in another, and a Green Horse Perry Pear, Granny Smith, and a crabapple in the Chook Orchard.
Today I went to the nursery and weeded all the trees that were waiting in pots and bags to be planted. I hauled them to the Chook Orchard and Big Orchard and got them set out on the spots where they’ll be planted. There are sugar plums, red blood plums, and mystery plums, peaches and snow apples and Old World breed apples, cider pears and cider apples. I’m so excited to see them in a few years covered with gorgeous fruit ready to be turned into delicious preserves, ciders, wines, and desserts.
This afternoon I grabbed our big branch cutters and shears and started the massive task of pruning all the fruit trees. After several devastating hail storms earlier this year, there was a lot of damage to be pruned away. They’re looking rather pitiful at the moment, but after pruning for a couple of years now, I know that a good pruning will result in better growth for the tree and better fruit production. They’ll be back to their dignified selves in no time.
Tomorrow I’ll be back to digging holes, armed with a 6-foot crowbar, sturdy shovel, and muscles that are feeling much better after a day off from digging. I can’t wait to get the last of the trees planted, watered, and ready to flourish this spring.
Now it’s time for a hot shower, a glass of cherry liqueur to warm my bones, and a book to read while Bear watches footy. 🙂
by Krista | Jul 17, 2017 | Winter
It’s quiet and peaceful on our farm today. The harsh cold of winter has been replaced by sunshine so warm it feels like a hug. Soft breezes rustle gently through the gum trees, lulling animals and humans alike into cozy sleepiness.
Bear and I have done a lot of resting the past week. The previous six months were full of stressful situations, some hard, some good, but all tiring to body and spirit.
Camping medievally for 8 days was wonderful, giving us a chance to get away from everything and just be. We had such a nice time hanging out with each other, reading aloud at night by lamp light, building fires to make cuppas, taking afternoon naps, working quietly on different projects then coming together for meals to chat all about what we’d been up to.
It was good. So good.
Now we’re home and it’s a different kind of good as we let go of the craziness of the first half of 2017 and settle into our new normal, embracing new routines, figuring out a new rhythm.
We’ve transitioned from a goat farm to a small hobby farm with an assortment of animals. We loved our goat farm experience, but we’re so happy about this change. It’s much more manageable for us and gives us time to pursue other projects that are important to us.
I’ve transitioned to full-time freelance writer/photographer/artist. It’s been a scary and daunting process, but I’m in a good place now and loving it so much. It gives me such a thrill to wake up each day and know I have work ahead of me that will provide for our needs and give me an outlet to do the work I enjoy and am good at. It will take more time to be at the place I need to be, but I’m so close now and that fills me with hope. Looking back, seeing how far I’ve come, we’ve come, gives me courage to press on.
I’ve also shifted to a new place in my healing, and I think that is the most precious thing to me. To look at my mind and heart and see peace and courage and hope and confidence where once there was so much fear, pain, grief, and anxiety, well, it makes me tear up with happiness and gratitude. I will be healing and growing until the day I die – I know I’ll never arrive at some magical All Done Now place – but I’m taking time to celebrate these moments of recognition, where the Now Me is braver, kinder, stronger than the Old Me.
These days I’m really loving being home. Before, home was my escape, my place to hide while I healed, but now it’s my haven, my place to love and be loved, to create and build and thrive. Bear and I had to have a teary-eyed cuddle about that this morning as we reflected on how much has changed since I first showed up at the farm gate nearly six years ago. I’m so thankful.
So today I wandered around this haven of ours, with all its messy bits and projects waiting to be completed, and basked in the feeling of being truly at home, no more hiding, no more fear.
I led our last six goats to their new pasture and walked through the trees with them. I fed the pigs and hung out with the dogs, picked peas in my garden and harvested pineapple sage and hung it up to dry. I took cuttings from the elderflower hedge and put them in water along the kitchen window sill to give them a chance to root before spring.
Now it’s time to work. A bowl of peas beside me for snacking on, sunshine streaming in the window turning the old wood floors a burnished gold.
It’s good to be home. xo
by Krista | Jun 2, 2017 | Winter
Winter arrived in a flurry of wind with a dusting of frost, turning lush, green eggplants into crunchy, brown bushes overnight.
Other tender plants, nasturtiums and horseradish, didn’t fare too well either, their leaves looking freezer burned. But so many other plants are flourishing, and it seems the frost gave them an extra kick. Red cabbage and kohlrabi, rainbow chard and mustard greens, leeks and turnips, they all look healthy and vibrant.
Some plants defied nature and instead of looking shriveled and puny like their other warm weather friends, they look great. The elderflower hedge continues to produce flowers, asparagus keeps popping up despite numerous cut backs and a heavy layer of compost, and capsicum and tomatoes keep flowering and fruiting. I don’t mind, not one bit. They’re a lovely addition to our winter menu.
This week, after letting the goats glean in the hay barn, I shoveled out most of the leftovers, filling wheelbarrows with mounds of old lucerne, sorghum, and goat droppings. Then I spread the mixture in thick layers over pathways to keep the weeds down, and in thinner layers as mulch around my winter veggies. It’s so lovely looking out over golden paths and garden beds shimmering in the late afternoon sun.
I’ve also been working in the orchards, harvesting the few precious citrus fruits that miraculously survived two hail storms – Tahitian limes, grapefruits, lemons, and lemonades – and getting ready to prune and transplant now that cold weather is finally here.
Since our orchards are mostly comprised of mystery trees and seconds that nobody wanted, it’s been fun to see what survived and what gets chopped up to be used for smoking hams and sausages later this winter.
The nut trees did not fare well in this years’ horrendous heat, so I’ll be replacing them with hardy plums, apples, and pears that seem to totter along no matter what the weather does. The figs, pomegranates, quince, and olives did splendidly, and they’ll be getting a good layer of compost and mulch for the winter. The apricots and peaches came through as well, and they’ll just need a good pruning, along with the apples, pears, and plums, to make a good start in the spring.
The summer and autumn herbs I harvested and hung to dry are now ready. I’ve been stripping the leaves into fragrant piles and storing them in glass jars where they’ll be ready to be used in herbal teas and medicines this winter. They look so beautiful to me.
I started a new job this week and am really enjoying it. My colleagues are good people, comfy to be around and savvy and professional in business. I know I’m going to learn a lot.
I’ve also been expanding my wood-burning, designing new cutting boards and cheese boards, cutting them out, sanding and shaping, getting them ready to be burned. I love working with wood.
Although I’ve been concentrating on prepping my gardens for winter, I’ve still been harvesting, collecting snow peas and sugar snap peas, turnips and eggplants, chilies and rainbow chard. One day I hope to get to the place where all our vegetables and fruit come from our gardens and orchards, but for now I’m happy to have these delicious and healthy things ready for picking.
Soon it will be time to taste-test the apple and banana wines I made last year. They should nearly be ready for bottling and drinking on cold winter evenings. I still have a few bottles of mulberry liqueur and strawberry liqueur, but I’m saving those for later winter when we need reminders that spring is coming.
I feel ready for winter this year, needing that time of hibernation and reflection in my life as I decide what to hang on to and what to let go of. I’m looking forward to cold mornings huddled in bed with hot chocolate and my journal, taking the time to process what is happening around me, and what my role in it is. I’ve got stacks of books piled by the bed, books of thoughts to think, places to see, things to make, and I’m enjoying these shorter days and longer evenings when I actually have time to read them.
What’s your favorite part of the season you’re in? xo
