love

Hello honey bunches,

I'm just popping in quickly to let you know that I won't be writing a proper, full length blog today.

Instead first thing this morning, in a minute, I'm going to pick a big bucket of colourful dahlias to be used to decorate a wedding this weekend, and after that we're going to catch the train into Melbourne with the girls for the school strike for climate action.

I don't expect we'll be home until early evening and by the time we've fed the girls and done all of the farm chores it'll be too late.

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I wrote those few paragraphs a week ago.

Last Friday morning I woke up early, edited the pictures, uploaded them to the blog, wrote the words, and then ran out of time to publish them. I left the post open on my computer and hoped to tidy it up and finish it when I got home or on Saturday at the latest.

The flowers I picked were beautiful and the march was emotional and inspiring. We really had the most wonderful day. And then on the way home I learned of the Christchurch mosque shootings. The murder of 50 children, teenagers, women and men.

There were no words big enough to blog.

Jacinta Ardern, the New Zealand Prime Minister, this week refused to speak the perpetrator's name but encouraged the world to speak the names of the 50 victims.

Today in the precious time you usually spend reading my words I'd love it if you read through the names and stories of the victims instead. Our brothers and sisters.

Here in an article in the Guardian.
Here on Khaled Beydoun's instagram.

You can also donate to support the victims here.

Sending so much love out into the world.

Be kind to yourselves and each other.

I'll see you next week with more stories of flowers and fruit and beautiful wooden bowls.

Love, Kate x

photos of flowers and things

The other morning when we came inside for breakfast after taking the girls to their schools, stacking a load of firewood in the woodshed and bottling up 12 jars of tomatoes sauce for the Fowlers machine, Farmer Bren looked at me and said 'I get it, this is who we are. This is what we do. This is our life'. 

I guess when you're so deeply involved in what you do sometimes it's hard to remember that not everyone is doing it the same way as you. Not everyone grows a lot of their food from tiny seeds; not everyone makes their muesli from the contents of about 15 jars each morning; not everyone lives so far from their closest neighbours that if they went outside and screamed as loudly as they could no-one would hear them; not everyone could have their growing season ended by one surprise weather event; not everyone uses fire to heat their houses and cook on; not everyone has a kitchen floor that's covered with crates full of autumn bounty ready to be preserved; not everyone only ever eats cucumbers and tomatoes when they are in season; and not everyone owns two pairs of the same boots - one for work and one for town.

There are some things about our world that probably sound so foreign to some people, like the fact that we have a mob of about 50 kangaroos that live on our property and most of the time don't bother us, but sometimes tear the nets in the orchards and eat all the apples. I'm sure there are koalas here too, although I've only ever seen one.

And lots of things I do feel terribly ordinary, like looking at my phone too much, trying to problem-solve for my kids a lot, and boring old housework (only ever the minimum I can get away with though).

I don't actually know what this is all about. My head's a bit cloudy today. I guess what Bren said, plus the messages you guys send me often telling me how different my world is to yours, reminds me to notice the special bits, encourages me to remember the choices we've made, and allows me to see the beauty.

I think that's enough words for today. I'll let the pictures tell the story.

I'd love you to tell me a bit about how your world differs from mine, or from those around you. It doesn't need to be big, just anything really.

Wishing you a happy International Women's Day!

And a fabulous weekend.

See you next week.

Love, Kate x

sunshine in my soul

Over the past few months I've settled into this new sort of sleep pattern. After I have a shower and go to bed I read my book until I'm so bleary eyed and sleepy that I can hardly see the words on the page anymore. Sometimes I try to read past this point if I'm up to a good bit in the story, but mostly by now I recognise the peak tired point, I turn off my lamp, pop my ear plugs in and within 15 or 20 minutes I'm asleep. This is new for me, I used to find the getting to sleep part agonising.

Then I generally sleep to anywhere between two and four in the morning when I wake up, get up and go to the toilet and then repeat the reading bit. I can be awake at this point anywhere from half an hour, to the rest of the night til morning. 

I practise mindfulness, I practise good sleep hygiene, but I've never been a good sleeper and I probably never will be.

But the other night, about a week ago, I woke up in the middle of the night and had this realisation that everything right now is good. Now is one of those rare times in life where there don't seem to be any dramas. Everyone in my family is healthy and doing well. There are no big issues, no overwhelming stresses and nothing to keep me awake in the middle of the night. I went through each person in my mind and when I'd convinced myself it was true, I turned the light off and went back to sleep.

And somehow this sense of well being has stayed with me throughout the week. I feel like I've had sunshine in my soul.

On Friday after I wrote my blog we picked little tomatoes to toss over pesto pasta for our dinner, we picked cucumbers and nashis and sunflowers, and we spoke to our Indi while she decorated her kibbutz room with flowers in vodka bottle vases.

On Saturday we picked apples and plums and hazelnuts and tomatoes and cucumbers and flowers. Late in the afternoon I took a basketful of tomatoes outside, laid them out on the ground then stood over them and photographed them. 'Just like I used to do when I was an olden days blogger' I told my farmer boy. He laughed and asked me what exactly I thought I was now. Okay true, nothing's changed there.

On Sunday we strolled the aisles of The Daylesford Sunday Market trying to decide if we should have a flower stall soon, I bought some new kitchen knives and then we came home and celebrated them with super thin slices of tomato, cheese and pickled cucumber on toast. After that we picked huge bunches of straw flowers to hang upside down and dry, we picked tomatoes and cucumbers and we visited our bees to see how they were coping with the heat and if they were making any honey.

On Monday we spent time in the garden deadheading, weeding and harvesting. When the sun went down and it got a bit cooler I started stacking firewood in the woodshed - as much as I hate to think about it, I'm sure the first fire of the season can't be too far away. And I made the most delicious cauliflower and freeka salad from Julia Nishimura's book Ostro for dinner.

On Tuesday I started ceramics lessons and I LOVED it!! The first lesson was all about hand building - pinch-pots, coil pots and slabs. I made a few different styles of vases. It's so interesting to think that I've never enjoyed ceramics when I've tried it in the past and now I love it. Why the change? Why now? My teacher Kim sent us home with a chunk of clay to play with over the weekend and I'm hoping to have time on Sunday, I'm so looking forward to it.

On Wednesday we covered a few of the rows of the apple orchard with nets. It's been an incredibly hot and dry summer and despite the fact that we've been irrigating continuously, this year's crop has been small and disappointing. I blame the dreadful cold, windy and wet weeks we had last year when the blossom was out but the bees couldn't leave their hives to pollinate. If you've been waiting to see us at market or to pop into the farm gate stall, it doesn't look like it's going to happen this season. We're sorry and we're disappointed. But we do claim to be seasonal growers and some seasons are just crap.

This morning when we drove past the orchards to take Pepper to school the trees were FULL of white cockatoos holding apples in their hands eating them. The ground is littered thick with half eaten cores. We didn't feel like it was worth the cost and effort of netting the whole orchard for a disappointing crop, but hopefully we've saved a few rows of our family's favourites.

On Thursday apart from driving Jazzy to school, picking tomatoes, cucumbers and flowers and going to gym, we spent almost the entire day in the kitchen. We squished tomatoes and made an enormous cauldron of sauce and I made some more pickled cucumbers.

Every year just before our tomatoes start to ripen I have a panic and fear that we'll never have enough and end up buying a box from a local organic farmer to get me started and stop my worrying. This year I made a decision to be patient and to trust and not to panic buy.

Last year I made somewhere between 100 and 120 jars of tomatoes sauce and there are still around 15 jars left in the cupboard. That means I'd better get busy and fill that cupboard back up. I'm sitting on zero right now but I do feel so happy that I waited and that they'll all be ours.

To make - fry up an onion and some garlic, stir in the squished tomatoes, add loads of basil, bottle, seal, water-bath.

Rather than just bottling tomatoes by themselves, we add lots of other summer seasonal ingredients from our garden that we won't have growing later in the year

Which brings us to Friday, today. I took Pepper to school early, I picked bunches of flowers, tomatoes and cucumbers with Jazzy, I hunted through the dahlias for the grasshoppers that have been munching my flowers, Bren had a meeting with Dave and another guy about fixing our house dam and now I'm writing my blog.

Over the weekend I hope to start bottling the tomatoes (I'll keep you posted on the tally), keep knitting my socks, continue reading Abby's copy of Inappropriation by Lexi Freiman, start listening to the latest episode of Who The Hell is Hamish podcast, take Jazzy to the orthodontist, maybe speak to Indi, hopefully crochet something that's in my head, go to gym, fill baskets and vases with produce, and hopefully, hopefully, hopefully continue this streak of family wellness and wellbeing-ness.

And if at all possible I would absolutely love to order another week of this sunshine in my soul feeling. I'd love to order one for you too.

So how's your week been?
Did you get up to anything fun?
Are you making anything interesting?
Deciding on anything important?
Dreaming about something wonderful?

See ya next Friday.

Lots of love,

Kate x

foxglove love

After our exam week away in a house in Macedon, after Indi's 18th birthday, after cocktails and dinners and dancing in the city to celebrate her, after Camberwell market, and after finally picking up our Jazzy from the airport, we came home. 

As someone who lives her life in bite-sized manageable portions, for weeks it had felt like the night of Sunday the 18th was when one portion stopped and Monday the 19th was a new beginning.

I dreamed that I would wake up on the Monday morning with the happy, comforting thought that all of my people were under our roof, snuggled up in their warm beds. And then I would go out and get stuck straight into my garden. I hoped to spend the next few days planting out every single pot in the greenhouse. I couldn't wait to begin.

I got dressed in my overalls and work boots, I popped a podcast in my ears and off I went.

But when I got there what I found wasn't exactly what I had expected.

What I found was a jungle. Weeds so thick I could hardly see the plants, grass so high I was scared I would step on a snake walking down the rows. There was no way I would be planting anything in that garden that day. I didn't know where to start, I couldn't work out what to do, I stood there feeling upset and out of control for a very long time.

After a while the words in my headphones started filtering into my brain and my consciousness. Coincidentally I was listening to a podcast that was talking about how feelings of anxiousness and panic can be compared to a working dog with no sheep. All that energy and enthusiasm and focus and drive, with no place to go. 

I was the dog, I needed to move my sheep/seedlings into their new paddock/garden, I needed to get practical, I needed an outlet, I needed a job.

So I mowed all the paths and I weeded some of the beds and when my farmer boy came over we pulled out some old crops, planted some more and then mulched them. After a while I began to see that things were looking more manageable, I felt less overwhelmed and I started to calm down. That evening I worked until it got too dark to see.

On Tuesday it poured with rain and the temperatures plummeted. I couldn't risk exposing my seedling babies to the elements, nor did it look like I should as the forecast for the rest of the week only looked colder and wetter and windier.

So the week that was supposed to be all about planting and staking and irrigating, instead ended up being spent mostly indoors...

spending time with our traveler. Looking at her pictures, listening to her stories, asking her questions, cuddling her, admiring her and feeling so grateful for the adventures she had and to have her back home.

Spinning fleece into wool. I'm still not great at it but I'm completely obsessed. I wrote once about how I was scared to start spinning my own yarn because it would take time away from the all important knitting. Well I'm here to report that it has. Absolutely! Apart from Indi's birthday crown, I've hardly knitted a stitch in weeks. And I'm okay with that. Happy even. It feels like it's adding to my knitting process rather than subtracting from it. I can't imagine how extra special it'll feel once I start creating something from what I've spun. I guess it's making a slow craft even slower but also so much richer. Lucky I'm not in a hurry.

I've been reading my sister Abby's copy of The Nowhere Child which is fast paced and suspenseful and completely unputdownable.

In between showers I pulled up one bed of garlic and then decided to leave the rest for another few weeks.

We finally divided our dahlia tubers. I would have loved to have planted them already but with all this rain it felt like too great a risk. Hopefully tomorrow.

I watched our poppies about to pop and begged them to wait until after the rains and it looked like they might have listened.

 I picked huge posies of roses and sweet peas and irises and peonies to brighten up the house.

And I've LOVED spending time as a family of five again, listening to Jazzy write a song on the guitar about her trip, watching Indi rediscovering life away from the pressures of school, walking through the garden collecting treasures with Pepper, admiring Bren's ongoing shed renovations, spending time in my studio, watching my girls comforting and cuddling and encouraging each other, and trying to remember that all this rain is such a blessing just before summer.

And sitting here right now writing this I can see that although this week didn't turn out how it was meant to, case in point being the still full to bursting greenhouse, it did turn out pretty wonderfully. Except for the cold, I haven't liked one single second of that.

Enough about me, how about you?
How has your week been?
Has it gone to plan? Or veered off wildly?
Can you relate to that sheep dog without any sheep feeling?
What flowers have you been picking from your garden?
What podcasts have you been loving?

I have to go now, Indi, Jazzy and Bren have come into my studio. Indi is trying on outfits for her graduation tonight and I need to focus.

Have a beautiful weekend my friends.

So much love to ya!

Kate x