broken hearted + blindish

It's funny how some weeks go by and when you look back on them after wards it feels like nothing much has changed; we made food, we drove the girls around, we dug in the garden and we wrote some things on lists and ticked other things off. Then there are the other weeks where something happens that make us feel like we will never be the same again. Although we might look similar on the outside, it feels like every atom inside us has been altered. Although we still do the same driving and digging and feeding, somehow even those actions feel different.

Since I last wrote my blog one thing happened that has changed me forever on the inside, one thing happened that has changed me on the outside, and lots of other littler stuff has happened, not as significant but still part of the picture. Truthfully my mind and my heart are a bit messy. I find myself tearing up at the drop of a hat, I'm finding it difficult to focus on anything for a prolonged period of time (that might be the end of a month of school holidays) and I'm feeling a bit unmotivated despite the incredibly glorious autumn days.

I think perhaps the best way to explain myself and to obtain some sort of order is to channel my farmer boy and write a list. I'm hoping that as well as giving me some clarity and recording this moment in time, it'll also help me feel better. It's worth a try anyway.

one - Not last Wednesday but the Wednesday before, our beautiful grandfather died. As well as being an amazing man, he was the most wonderful grandfather. I feel that at some stage I should honour him with a whole post of his own, but for now it feels too soon, too raw.

My Zeida Saul Same lived a life filled to the brim with all the most important ingredients - love, family, friends, success, love, travel, recognition and then more love. Even though he lived whole-heartedly for 97 and a half years and slipped away peacefully when his time came, I still feel devastated by his loss. And losing him has brought back the best memories of my grandmother which Alzheimer's had stolen until now, which is in part a blessing and in part just adding to my sadness.

I feel so incredibly lucky to have loved and been loved by him. I have zillions of amazing memories to cherish and I'm pretty sure our girls do too. But I no longer have my Zeida, I no longer have any grandparents and that is incredibly sad.

This article ran in the Australian newspaper that week.

two - (ugh it's hard to move on to two, my eyes are filled with tears and everything else feels little, but I'll try). About a week ago I had my eyes tested and now I wear glasses. All my life I have felt proud of my perfect vision. I could read far away signs, thread the finest needles and spot the tiniest louse in the thickest jungle of hair. But a little while ago things started to change and I found that I could no longer see which emoji was making what expression on my phone, it became difficult for me to focus on the tiny sock stitches I was knitting and I found myself with a head ache on some days for no reason at all.

So now I wear glasses. It's early days and I'm still getting used to them and feeling a bit self conscious but I'm hoping they'll be good.

Glasses wearers I'd love to know your tricks for cleaning them, it's driving me a bit crazy actually.

three - a few days after my beloved grandfather died, our girls went to stay with their cousins in Melbourne for two days. Even though we had organised their stay a few weeks before, the timing couldn't have been more perfect. Our country girls spent a couple of days having the best city adventures and we had uninterrupted time for mourning, for looking after each other, and for just being.

Thank you D, M, S, D, R and R we love you xxxxx

four  - After I finished the seven Tomorrow When the War Began books which I loved, I reread my Mum's book Alzheimer's A Love Story.

Although it was quite painful at times, reading my grandparents' histories, reading about my grandmother's gradual decline into that horrible disease and remembering their great love story was a such a precious gift to me. A treasure.

I have no doubt that I'm biased when I say that my Mum tells a story so beautifully, that it will have the reader laughing and in turn weeping as she turns its pages, but I'm not the only one - this book was chosen to be published before it was even completed. I'm so proud of my Mum all over again and I highly recommend this book for others caring for friends and family struggling with Alzheimer's and those just interested in stories of family and love and Australian history.
.

five - I cast off a pair of socks for my farmer boy. Nothing new or ground breaking here, just a reminder of that deep feeling of satisfaction and joy that comes from making something for someone I love.

The Ravelry details are here.

six - Tomatoes. We're still picking them by the crate full, preserving them by the jar full and drying them by the tray full. It's getting to that time in the season where the birds and other critters are making a bit of a mess of them and that deep tomato smell is making me hold my breath as I reach under the sticky vines, but I'll keep gathering them until the first frost does.

seven - We've been listening and loving my dad's radio program - Track of the day! -  each week day morning on the breakfast show at 8.05am on Hepburn Community's radio station. One song each day relating to the date is educational, fun and often unexpected. Yay Dad!

eight - It's funny that even though we have been growing stuff here for fifteen years, until now we've only ever really been interested in growing plants that will feed people or animals. For some reason I can't remember, this year we decided to grow a few beds and rows of flowers and although they are feeding the bees, the main reason for their planting was their prettiness.

There is no underestimating the happiness that a row of swaying blossoms brings as you spy it through the forest. There is nothing quite like watching Miss Pepper pick herself a bedroom posy every few days. We've pressed them, we've given them, we've drawn them, we've photographed them, we've made fairy houses from them and we've absolutely felt that they've fed our souls if not our hearts. We're hooked! Flowers forever!

nine - We closed our farm stall. It really has been a wonderful season. People have come from near and far to visit our pretty little stall and stock up on delicious apples. I feel grateful for how well supported and loved our stall has been, but also a little sad that it'll be so many more months until we throw open those cute doors again and fill her up with goodness. But next year is our biennial on year and it's bound to be huge - so watch this space!

ten - After it was damaged in a storm and lay in a pile of wood for many, many months, my farmer boy rebuilt his pole lathe. Often as I drove past the pile I did wonder if he'd ever have the time or the memory to rebuild it again, but then one day he decided to and then he did.

So far he's made me three chop sticks to wear in my hair and a single spoon but I can see by the way he takes every opportunity to run outside and play with it that he's hooked. I'm excited about all those little wood curls, I'm excited about the possibilities of spoons, bowls, chair legs and even knitting needles. And of course I'm thrilled that he's fallen in crafty love. That he has that addictive feeling of wanting to make all the things. And that he has an escape, a way to run away from the have to's and get into the zone.


And that dear reader is that. Perhaps a little more than you bargained for but still...a little slice of my life.

I hope you are travelling well my friends.
I hope you are reading a great book and have yummy things to eat.

Sending love, love, love

Kate xoxo

Miss Pepper's floral party

Last Wednesday, two days before Miss Pepper's birthday, I was having a little bit of a moan at school about how I don't have a baby any more. About how time is flying. And about how hard it is sometimes not to feel a teensy bit sad at her milestones because they are firsts for her, but also lasts for me.

At that point one of the girls' teachers stopped me. She told me that she'd lost so many friends over the years that now she looks at ageing as a gift. We are so lucky to live our lives and watch those we love, live theirs. Life is a blessing.

I decided then and there that I want to think like that too. I want to celebrate and feel grateful and be happy and leave all that melancholy stuff behind. That especially makes sense when it comes to our Pepper, the happiest, most joyful child.



Last Thursday, one day before Miss Pepper's birthday, she told us that she wanted her world to be filled with flowers, so we filled every pot we could find with colourful blooms.

Last Friday our Pepper turned seven. We celebrated her with cards and presents and pancakes and cake and songs. I felt happy the whole day thinking about how exciting a little kid's birthday is and she had the very best day too.

Last Saturday, the day after our Pepper turned seven, eight of her best friends came over for a flower fiesta party!!



As they came in, each of the girls lay fabric flower petals and leaves and feathers on a piece of elastic and I hot glued them on for them.



I absolutely loved watching each of them create their masterpiece. Some crammed on as many petals as they could fit all the way around, some placed layer upon layer upon layer, and then some went for one single bloom - gorgeous and simple.



Once they were all crowned, we played pass the parcel with notes, pin the bees on the blossoms and musical statues.



And then my farmer boy sat the girls in a circle and taught them how to make paper flowers.



We made garlands with some, while others wore theirs as corsages or held them like posies.



Then we sang to our birthday girl, ate cake and then we danced.

Much later on, after her guests had left, the cards had been opened and the presents had been played with a bit, our family went and ate ice cream down by the lake. We played charades, we watched the ducks and then we went for a long walk. At one stage I asked our Pepper if she had enjoyed her party. I said that to me it looked like it had included all the best ingredients; yummy food, craft, music, laughing and her best friends. First she told me that I had forgotten crying, because indeed there were a few seven year old party tears. And then she told me it was the best party in the whole world, the best party ever. You gotta be happy with that.

And I totally am happy with that.

And I love that in a seven year old world crying can be part of the happiest time.

I'm hoping for happiness and not too many tears when I turn a year older next week and when Indi does not long after that.

I'm not 100% sure that this blog makes sense but it's been crazy windy and stormy since very early this morning and I feel wriggly and jiggly and rattled inside.

Enjoy your present and your presents lovely friends.

Big birthday season love from us.

xx

Monday early in the afternoon

Eight shots from our weekend;

(1-3) One of the best parts of autumn is the bonfires.

(4) Visiting the Holy Goat girls and meeting Giselle the goat who will soon be coming to live with us and have kids and provide us with milk.

 (5) Still preserving.

(6) His beloved compost steaming.

 (7) Knitting a red beanie for Miss Jazzy.


(8) The kitchen garden at dusk.


Monday early in the afternoon.

So far today: we got the girls up and off to school, had a quick coffee in town with my parents and then I did a pilates class. Pilates is ace for me. Farming and mothering are hard on my body and pilates feels a bit like a weekly tune up. It slows me down and helps me to remember to breathe, keep my shoulders down and do things properly. I've been doing pilates for nine years!!

And now I'm home sitting on the couch with a blankie on my knees answering emails about my book, filling in an author's survey and finding some photos of our family and farm for the publicity.

I still feel very self conscious when I'm referred to as the author.

There is clean washing in the machine to hang out, there is tonight's dinner to think about (onion soup?), I can see my farmer boy out the window filling up the vegie beds with compost, there's a zillion unanswered emails in my inbox and a house full of the weekend's mess to deal with, there are seeds to plant, apples to dehydrate and some phone calls to return.

But all I really feel like doing is having a long hot bath and listening to a podcast or hopping back into bed with my knitting.

I never ever do things like that. Especially not on a Monday when the to-do list is so high it's threatening to topple over. When the rest of my week is looking so crazy busy that now might be my only chance. But the pull of the cozy over the constructive is huge and strong.

Maybe I'll make the soup base and a bread dough and see.

Maybe I'll answer four emails for every four knitting rows.

Maybe I'll have lunch and then decide.

Maybe...

I hope your week is super lovely friends.
Have you got anything fun planned?

Bye bye. xx

Magic hour..

I feel like I could fill my whole blog up with twilight stories.

With tales of after dinner adventuring. Of leaving the dishes in the sink along with the chaos of deadlines and homework and walking out the front door and down the hill. Or over the hill to the back paddock. Or down through the top orchard.

This magical time of the day is fast becoming my favourite time of the day.

Mostly we have no plan. We wander.

We watch the screeching cockatoos landing in a nearby tree and the ducks on the dam scatter as we draw close. We pretend we are flower girls and frogs and scary monsters. We notice the crazy amount of fruit set on the apple trees and greet the barking Maremmas as they warn us to leave their chookies alone.

We sit in the freshly plowed paddock for a while and test for moisture content. We try not to get too excited at the prospect of growing vegies for sale again, it's been a while and we are wary. But we love the look of the newly turned earth and we feel like real farmers again.

We fall in so many holes because of the long grass.

And we climb stuff. Chook feeders and stumps and anything climbable really.

And we chuck stones in the creek and hit things with sticks and pick bunches of clover.

And we call out to Jo-Jo to stop chasing kangaroos, to come back to us, to leave them alone. And he runs fast and his furry ears flap up and down. And we shout and shout and eventually he comes back for a scratch and a cuddle.

And we hold hands and we talk and we listen.

And we can really hear because we have left all the crap up at the house and we are only present in the moment.

It is the most beautiful moment. And I know I probably shouldn't break it with lots of picture taking but I can't help it. I need to hold on to it. To keep it. It is mine. Ours.

And eventually the light fades and we make our way back up to the house for bed time. Mostly we walk, sometimes the smallest gets a piggy back or a tractor ride.

And when we come inside the stresses are still there where we left them, but they look different somehow. Less enormous, conquerable or at least manageable.

The twilight walk seems to have magic powers. I love it.


I hope you have the most gorgeous weekend lovely peeps.

We'll be at Collingwood Children's Farm farmers' market on Saturday. Why don't you come down and say hi. We'd love to see you.

Bye! xx

Bring on October.

Welcome October! Cock-a-doodle-doo!!!!!!!

Oh how thrilled I am to see you. And to be honest, oh how thrilled I am to see the back of September too.

September was sometimes wonderful but sometimes incredibly difficult also. I learnt some hard lessons and shed a few too many tears. September on a whole didn't really turn out how I'd hoped it would.

But October is onwards and upwards for me. October is the start of birthday season in our family. October is the start of some real, true spring weather and in October I will be wiser as I have learnt lots from September.

Most of what September taught me I knew but needed reminding and some I learnt from scratch;

That it is not what happens to me that is important, it is how I deal with it.
That sometimes direct confrontation is hard for me but mostly has great results.
That some people will not change no matter how much I hope they will.
That no matter how quiet a life I think I am living, sometimes shit happens.
That falling off the menu planning wagon is stupid and hard.
That parenting an adolescent is about picking my battles.
That my best therapy is farm work.
That I really do know who my true friends are.
That although I think it will always hurt, I am done with babies.
That bad situations often bring people closer together and that's super nice.
That with my crew beside me, I will be ok.

So I welcome you October with open arms. You are going to be mostly ace, I hope.

Big love to you guys too.
Did September teach you any important life lessons?
Have you got exciting October plans?

I hope your October is awesome!!

I lost a game of yardage chicken with my poncho last night eight rows before the end. I'm off to try to convince my girls to take a little road trip to Bendigo Woollen Mills this morning to replenish. Wish me luck.

Let the October adventures begin. x

When life gives you lemons...

Sometimes things don't turn out exactly as you'd hoped and planned.
Sometimes people don't behave as you'd expect.

People can be strange.

Today I'm holding my gang as tightly as they'll let me.
I'm wearing stripey tights.
I'm focusing on the great people in my life.
I'm filling jars with daffodils.
I'm walking the farm and its almost springness.
I'm taking deep breaths.
I'm looking for silver linings.
I'm trying to ignore the feral weather.
I'm counting my blessings.
We're making lemon cakes and preserved lemons.
And we're making plans for lemon curd and lemon cordial.
And lemonade.

Be good. x

On a sunshiney morning.

A couple of days I ago I was reading a photography tutorial that encouraged it's readers to take photos every single day. To carry their cameras where ever they went. And to photograph their every day. Their usual. Their nothing special.

This was our Tuesday morning.

We sat outside in the almost spring sunshine and sorted seeds. She caught the sunlight in her hair. We stepped out the size of the new green house. We watered the hothouse. She watered into the window onto the kitchen floor (oops!). We listened to our new/old Play School record about farms. We laughed about living on a farm and listening to a farm. We heard recorded chickens and real life chickens. She played with farmer Liam's dog Gem and took a pretend trailer ride. We had a snack and then she told me stories while we waited for the boys to finish collecting the eggs. When they had, we joined them in the shed for the egg packing. She sat on my knee in the dark room and we watched all the eggs roll past lit up from underneath so we could check each one for cracks. She made up funny little games and competitions while we were working. She sometimes let me win but then she'd change the rules so she'd win more. She declared herself the champion. We sorted and packed 213 dozen eggs which made us believe that spring was really springing. Hooray!! She wore her vintage button brooch that came with a bunch of sock monkeys all the way from Jessica in Hamburg in Germany. She sang and danced wherever we went.

We had a gorgeous morning, nothing special but special all the same.  The sun was shining and I tried to kiss her all the time. The outside air felt fresh in our lungs. And I felt full of plans and inspiration for the coming season.

Then it was time to come in for lunch and to write a seed order.

That's us, what have you been up to?
What would you do with a crate of lemons?
Do you carry your camera with you wherever you go?

I'm off to check the salt situation for a bit of preserving.

Later potata. x