by Krista | Jan 23, 2016 | Summer
“For after all,
the best thing one can do when it is raining is let it rain.”
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I do so love a rainy Saturday morning, when the world is dark and hushed and all the rough edges are blurred and softened through a drizzly curtain of raindrops.
Today is such a day, a day for baking bread and sipping enormous mugs of coffee and getting lost in a good book and drifting off for morning (and afternoon!) naps. A pottering day without deadlines or rushing about, just happy little projects like sewing with Bear and writing a story just for fun and staring contentedly out the window at dancing tree branches and dripping eaves.
Wishing you a beautiful and restful weekend. xo
by Krista | Oct 15, 2015 | Spring
For awhile now the sun burned grass has crunched underfoot when we walk across the farm, tree branches hang heavy with dust, the air filled with smoke from nearby bush fires. But yesterday, the rains came. Not a lot, not enough, but it came, and we’re so thankful.
This morning the air is clear and fresh, smelling of damp earth and soggy leaves, the ground is spongy, sticking to my boots and making me an inch or two taller by the time I get home again. The whole farm is clean and sparkling and dust-free.
It is glorious.
Yesterday I hustled from pen to pen, hastily feeding up as the storm clouds darkened and thickened and thunder rumbled ominously. I made it back to the house just as the first drops fell and quickly decided that all plans for writing projects, laundry, and dishes were off the table. I was going to enjoy this rain.
I brewed a big cup of Earl Grey tea, grabbed my journal and stack of outdated but still treasured Victoria magazines, and went to the back veranda where I could sit and luxuriate in the storm without getting drenched.
I love Earl Grey tea when it’s raining. It just fits somehow. The scent of Bergamot, the creamy combination of milk and maple syrup. It delights me.
Victoria magazine has been my favorite for as long as I can remember. My Mum had the very first issue and we started collecting them, spending hours reading and rereading them, finding nourishment for our spirits as much as inspiration for life. They were like old friends and I missed them deeply when I had to leave them behind when I moved to Australia. Now and then my friend Parker sends me a few issues, and I cherish them, hoarding them for rainy days when I can sit quietly and thoroughly enjoy each photo and article.
And my journal, dearest non-human friend of all. Isn’t it good to have a safe place to pour out thoughts and feelings, frustrations and fears, hopes and wonderings? To work through all the nitty-gritty of life and relationships and somehow, in the writing, come to clarity, understanding, and peace.
I used to reread my journals, laughing uproariously at my dramatic turns of phrase and my passionate “the world is ENDING” moments. It helped me to see all the highs and lows I’d already navigated, to be reminded that most of the things I feared never took place, and even when they did, I found the courage and strength to face them. There’s something about looking back now and then that gives me the pluck I need to tackle whatever is facing me now.
Mostly my old words remind me to breathe. In and out until the racing heart and thoughts calm to a sensible pace. Life is always going to be topsy-turvy. Always. But we’ve been through so much already, we can handle this, whatever this is.
Bear joined me on the veranda near the end of the storm, taking a break from his to do list to rest a while and have a chat. It made me smile.
What is your favorite thing to do when rain falls? xo
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by Krista | Aug 28, 2015 | Winter
As I got ready for bed Wednesday night, I opened our bedroom window just in case rain started to fall. I had watched the clouds all afternoon, hoping it would rain, and if it did, I wasn’t going to miss it. I turned on my lamp, cozied in with my book, and began to read.
About an hour later the silence was broken by a rush of wind through the gum trees and the first tentative splatters of rain on our tin roof. Bear and I grinned. The rain was coming at last.
It rained through the night and when we woke the next morning, it was still falling. It was the best kind of rain, soft, gentle, quiet, the sort that stays where it falls and doesn’t disappear in a sudden deluge or get dried up by fierce winds.
I couldn’t stay inside on such a day, so I donned my gum boots, hat, and flannel shirt, grabbed my pitchfork and headed out to the gardens.
It’s amazing what a difference a bit of rain makes to plants. Although they live with regular watering, they absolutely thrive with rain. They seem to relax when the rain falls, no more stalwart growing in the face of drought and withering heat, this is when they grow without even trying.
Peas, beets, radishes, and cabbages, radicchio, carrots, silverbeet, and kale, they all perked up, lifting leaves to the sky to catch as much water as possible and let it run down to their roots.
I worked next to them as the rain fell, steadfastly digging a new garden plot for my berry bushes.
Digging garden beds in Australia is serious business. The sun-baked earth does not welcome shovels, and weeds, grasses, and a ludicrous number of rocks have to be removed with crowbars, pitchforks, and sheer grit. I broke one pitchfork with my exertions and was limping along with a handle-less one I found in the barn when Bear approached positively beaming as he handed me what he called “an early birthday present” – a beautiful stainless steel, ergonomic, “the best money can buy” pitchfork. I nearly cried right then and there. He knows the way to my heart.
I hugged and smooched him soundly and returned to my endeavors. It took me all day. Alllllll day. But I did it. And Bear took a break from his projects to help me haul wheelbarrows full of goat manure and sawdust. I spread them over the planting areas, dug them in, and then we set up two big frames for the berries to ramble along. I planted loganberries and boysenberries and am so excited to see them get big and productive in the years to come.
During our breaks, Bear and I love to have slices of homemade spelt bread with butter and honey, or cheese and tomatoes, or piled high with tuna salad.
Unfortunately my oven died this week. This death was preceded by the demise of my hot plate and electric frying pan. Good heavens. When my bread machine kicked the bucket this morning all we could do was laugh. Because what else are you going to do?
Determined not to let these disasters get the better of me, I set my brain to work on another way to cook bread that didn’t require me going outside and building a fire. I wondered if you could bake bread in a slow cooker, and went online to find out. Much to my delight I learned that you can!!!
You don’t get the rise or crust that you do from a regular oven, but if you don’t mind a soft crust and lovely but dense loaf, you’re in business. I made a spelt loaf today and was delighted with how it turned out, and more than a little relieved. While we save up to get a new stove, at least we can still have fresh bread. That makes me smile.
What is your favorite quick lunch when you’ve been working outside? xo
Spelt Bread Dough
Ingredients:
3 cups spelt flour
1 tsp sea salt
1 Tbsp brown sugar
2 tsp active dry yeast
1 Tbsp olive oil
1 large egg
1 cup water
baking paper
Directions:
- Turn slow cooker on high.
- Place dry ingredients into large bowl and whisk together.
- In small bowl, whisk together olive oil, egg, and water.
- Add wet ingredients to dry and stir to combine.
- Scatter flour on counter and place dough in center.
- Knead until dough is smooth and elastic.
- Set dough in center of large piece of baking paper and lower into slow cooker.
- Replace lid and cook for 1.5 hours, checking to make sure it doesn’t burn on the bottom.
- Remove from slow cooker and cool on rack.
- Note: slow cookers cook at different temperatures so check your bread (the bottom will have a good crust on it) to see what cooking time is best.
by Krista | Jul 29, 2015 | Winter
I’m sitting in a golden patch of light on the front veranda, soaking up warmth from the Winter morning sunshine, wrapped to the gills in Bear’s clothes which always seem to be warmer than my own.
Luna is busy exploring, tail wagging ferociously as she sniffs out mice and lizards and anything else that takes her fancy.
Bear and I just finished feeding hay to the goats, laughing at the crazy antics of the babies as they leap and cavort around the paddock.
Now it’s time to rest.
That’s how life needs to be for me right now. Work a little, rest a little.
A redback spider bite causes all over body pain, headaches, nausea, fever, shakes, dizzy spells, exhaustion, and it lasts for weeks. Anti-venom doesn’t help, so you just have to soldier through, waiting for the yucks to run their course.
When you’re feeling awful, rainy days seem to be a gift, a permission slip from the universe to go to bed, take naps, watch marathons of NCIS and Murdoch Mysteries, read a little, and drink copious amounts of tea and soup. I’m so glad we’ve had a few days like that recently.
I love how rain changes our sun-burned world. Bare rocks are suddenly ablaze with color as dormant lichen surge to life.
Old bits of wood are suddenly sporting curly flourishes of lichen as well, light dustings of moss peeping out of rain-soaked crevices.
Bleach blond bits of fallen tree pods take on a golden hue when the rain hits them.
But it’s the old wood I like best, darkened whorls and swirls frosted with lichen of all sorts, looking like something out of Ireland or Washington instead of sun-drenched Queensland.
The sunshine has returned and we are happy to see her again, dancing along fluttering poplar leaves, glistening on the glossy lemon trees, streaming oh-so-warmly through our windows.
Now it’s time to rest again before putting in a load of laundry and cozying in for some hand-sewing while I listen to an audio book from the library.
It’s going to be a good day.
How does your world change when rain falls? xo
by Krista | Feb 20, 2015 | Summer
I fell asleep to the sound of rain on the roof, and woke to the same glorious sound. Tropical cyclones are wreaking havoc not far from us, but on our farm it’s just good, steady, soak-deep-into-the-ground rain, and we are thrilled. Our water tanks are filling, our pastures, gardens, and orchards are getting a good drenching, and the air is so fresh and clean with all the dust and smoke washed away.
On such a morning I couldn’t stay in the house. I had to be part of this wondrous weather. So I layered on flannels, pulled on my new purple Ugg boot slippers, and went out to the veranda. My chair is just out of reach of the rain, close enough to feel the occasional spray on my face, but far enough away to keep me warm and dry.
I love it out there, no computers or television or telephone, just me in a comfy chair, wind blowing, rain falling, blissful quiet and time to rest and be.
Bear made me a cuppa, strong Earl Grey tea with milk and real maple syrup, and shook his head in amusement at my Canadian love of wild weather and fresh air, happily returning to the warmth of the house.
It’s definitely a hot bowl of chili sort of day. I’m making a white bean chicken chili, studded with the very last of the mild green chilies a dear friend sent me from America. I’m going to savor every last morsel. 🙂
Now it’s time to get back to work. There are articles to write and spoons to wood-burn with breaks for “Poirot” and more cups of tea.
What is your favorite way to spend a rainy day? xo
