When life gives you…

Perspective is a wonderful thing isn’t it?

On Friday night, a fellow fibre artist and friend of mine opened a sale album on Facebook. Now I normally try not to be comparative (that way lies misery!) BUT she had 65+ items in this folder and sold MOST of them in 4 hours.

She made HUNDREDS of dollars.

Now lemme give you some background info to be fair:

She is an established personality in spinning/fibre circles.

She’s good – VERY GOOD – at what she does. I would never try to diminish her success – she spins beautifully, dyes amazing stuff, and there is EVERY reason why she is so successful.

And we have a different product and a different niche: She dyes commercial roving with commercial dyes, and I dye locally farmed ethical fleeces with plant-based/organic/fair trade dyes. And I add the spiritual side as well.

And I’m comparatively new to the market.

But despite all this I felt INCREDIBLY FRUSTRATED AND DISHEARTENED.

How can she sell all that in 4 hours, and I don’t even sell one item a week?! I pour my heart and soul into my art: I BELIEVE IN IT. I spin sometimes ’til my eyes hurt at night, lovingly tending each skein to completion, and severely underprice myself (often only paying myself $1 an hour and often end up giving lots of stuff away!). And for what?! Is it worth it?! Maybe I should just give it away and find ‘real job’.

I felt flattened. I felt heart broken.

So I went to a movie with my friend Lou, and we grabbed a hot chocolate afterwards, and we got to talking about our grandparents. My German Oma immigrated to Australia in the 50’s. She had no English, was DESPERATLEY poor, and lived in a converted asbestos chook shed with 7 children. My Opa worked on the Warragamba Dam Project and was away for weeks on end, and my Oma supplemented their income by growing tomatoes to sell and milking the family cow.

Perspective.

This isn’t a PROBLEM. It’s annoying. But it’s not a PROBLEM.

So this morning I picked some daffs before Jerry the Goat ate them, and Tara and I baked a Banana and Raspberry Loaf. We ate it warm from the oven. And the washing machine broke down (Grr. But I bet Oma didn’t have a washing machine; broken or otherwise. And she had SEVEN KIDS), so I made plans to go the laundromat until payday. And the vacuum cleaner broke, and I laughed at the irony and took the broken piece out.

Perspective.

It’s not about being mindlessly, irrationally, ridiculously optimistic. It’s just recognizing what is an actual HARDSHIP, and what is a TEMPORARY INCONVENIENCE.

We have everything we need. I’m lucky to be able to do what I’m passionate about, and if I follow my passion, I cant lose. Success will come. And, you know what? The vacuum cleaner works better without that piece anyway 🙂

Living your life can be an act of rebellion.

Here’s my big lesson this week: Living life for yourself can be a HUGE act of rebellion.

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In modern day society, hubby and I don’t live a conventional life. We don’t have a huge mortgage. He works, I stay home with the girls, and work my home businesses. We don’t have credit cards – we try to spend only the money we actually have.

Sure, I could go back to full time teaching now. We could buy a new car on credit, take out a mortgage to buy a new McMansion in the suburbs and “have it all’. I could eat dairy and meat. That would make a lot of people around us much more comfortable.

But I value what I do for my family by being at home much more than society could pay me for working full time. My girls wont remember a shiny new marble benchtop, or a new car. But they will remember walking home from school hand-in-hand with Mummy, and having hot pikelets for afternoon tea, and climbing their swingset until its time to run over and hug dad as he pulls into the driveway.

And-every-day

My husband loves his job. I love mine. We do ok. We’re ok with not having a lot of stuff, because we have SO SO MUCH to be grateful for.

But this week, I’ve been challenged: Do I have the courage to be what I am, and to do what I do, even if it makes some of the people I love uncomfortable?

I read this article by Julia over at SacredFamiliar and it resonated with me a lot.

I spent ALOT of my teens and 20s doing what I thought was ‘best’. I had the voices of my parents in the back of my head at all times, and I always did what I thought would make them happiest. I never made a decision without mentally consulting everyone I knew to check if they’d be ok with it.

But actually, it’s not my responsibility to make everyone else comfortable and happy.

What if I had the courage to live my truth? With no apologies. And no explanations.

What if I called myself a witch.

What if I said, “I choose not to work fulltime.”

What if I said, “I don’t want a big new house.”

What if I said, “I actually don’t support the dairy farmers’.

These statements are all potential time-bombs. They all have the potential to be misunderstood. To be criticized. To make people – including the people I love – VERY uncomfortable.

But here they are. In writing, for all to see. My truth. Here’s me having the courage to speak it. Here’s me being FUCKING BRAVE. My act of rebellion.

Here’s me living my life for ME, not for what others will think.

Because – hand on heart – “This is what’s important.”


 

 

When it all feels like a ‘job’.

Lately, I’ve been finding it hard to slow down. There always seems to be another task in the back of my head that needs to be done, and not nearly enough time to do it all. Im working on a number of projects at the moment, all of which demand my attention, my work environment has been tense and stressful, and the girls have all their end-of-year activities on and:swimming lessons, dance recitals, christmas parties.

And the news is full of violence. And the pollen is itching my eyes. And we’ve had restless broken sleep each night for various reasons. And it’s all just a bit loud, a bit bright, a bit much.

I’m trying – REALLY TRYING – to keep slowing down. To breathe. To remember the really important things.

Im trying to carefully and deliberately to compartmentalise my work hours to keep work from bleeding into my day. When I plan to work for an hour, at the end of the hour, I close the program, get up and walk away from the computer.

Easier said than done.

Part of the stress is planning for a big market coming up. I’ve been spinning wool and dyeing roving late into the evening (aften way past when I planned to go the bed!) spinning wool until my eyes ache and my fingers are stiff. I want to have tonnes of beautiful things for the stall. Often I work myself to the bone like this, only to sell NOTHING on the day, and come home not even having my stall-money re-couped. That can be so disheartening.

But then I had a bit of an epiphany at a friend’s house the other day. She made a comment about trying to find a craft that would be lucrative. She was going to try pottery, commentting on how she felt she’d be able to make more volume in less time. (Can I add as an aside here, that I do not mean to suggest in any way that this friend is materialistic or intends to sell-out and go into mass production! Merely that she was talking about the need to help supplement her family income! I hear that!) But it made me think about handcrafting vs mass-production. Would I sell-out if I could find some way to make this stuff pay?

And I realised I wouldn’t. I really enjoy the spinning and knitting. I love the slowness and meditation of feeding out the fibre, and the suprise results of dyeing, and making bits and bobs for people I love who appreciate my pieces. When I feel like Im working to a deadline, or trying to make it profitable, I dont enjoy it. It becomes mundane, and becomes just another ‘job’.

I have a job. I do this because its fun. Even when I get up in the dark, load the car, drive to a market, set up sit in the sun/wind/rain all day, and come home having not sold a single thing; I’ve still had a fun day.

So I’m not going to find another more lucrative thing to sell. Cos I love doing this. And someday I may have to buy a warehouse to store all my unsold bits and pieces, and then move in to it because wool wont pay my rent. Oh well.

But I AM going to remember to stop stressing about finishing items in time for the markets. I can never predict what’s going to sell or not anyway! This is NOT MY JOB. (I should stop making it like one!)

And as for my actual job… :/ Weeellll. It pays the bills. Mostly. And the people are nice. Mostly. And I can turn off my computer, and not open my email, until I decide to be in “work mode” tomorrow.

Its been getting warmer too. We had friends over for our yearly “hazard reduction burn” (aka Bonfire Night) and the kids had a ball! I wanna plant more food in my garden. And take the girls to the beach more. And start doing some running again. Not for weightloss this time. Not for punishment. I dont do that anymore. Just for a bit of fun, and to get the dog out for some exercise. Thats another thing I have conciously decided not to make into a “job”. It started to become one a while back, so I stopped, cold turkey. I realised I was using running to punish my body for being “too big”. I was using it as a weapon to beat myself with, when I really needed to be my own friend.

The little voice in my head became a drill sargent. screaming out internet “fitspo” slogans: “You’ll make time, or you’ll make excuses!”, “you just dont want it bad enough!. I imagined laying my boot into myself, curled in defense on the ground, kicking and flogging it to get up and get my ‘fat ass’ to do one more rep, when what I really shouldve been saying to myself is “…honey, you’re tired. You’ve been caring for 2 little kids, a farm, and a sick partner all day on your own. It’s ok to go to bed.” I was my own worst enemy. In fact if i had heard anyone absuing someone the way I abused myself inside my head, I would’ve bodily thrown myself inbetween, screaming “STOP! STOP!!! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?! SHE DOESN’T DESERVE IT! LEAVE HER ALONE”.

But I wasn’t my friend.

I choose to be my friend now. I wont punish myself anymore.

So I choose to slow down. To log off. To stop making the things I love a ‘job’. Even if I only have a few beautiful, hand made things on my market stall, they will be made with integrity and love. Even if I didn’t push through to get that last email sent, at least I wont be stressed and yelling distractedly at my kids. Even if the house is dusty, and the garden’s going a bit to seed and weed, Im not a size 12, and I havent worn my Garmin in months, it’s ok. I can cut myself some slack and do something nice for me. It’s what friends do.

Blessing, bunnies, and blissful days together.

Hello every bunny!
Hope you had an Easter as good as ours! Ours was filled with friends and fun. The bunny came and hid chocolate chicks in our backyard, and the girls giggled and ran about looking for them in their pjamas and gumboots.
Ben baked hot cross buns, and we had woodfired pizzas with friends on easter night. The girls got home thoroughly sticky and over excited, but having had a brilliant day! 
We’ve managed to cram alot of activities into Katies first school holidays: Family trips to the pool and Eureka Skydeck. There was a Pop Up Park outside the local library, with facepainting and games, we saw the Shaun the Sheep movie, and we went op-shopping. 
But undoubtedy the best thing about these holidays was Ben’s CT results coming back clear of cancer. 
That was the very best day. 
His hair is starting to grow back, he’s starting to regain some of his old energy and health, and we just feel so so blessed everyday.

 There were quieter days, where we stayed at the farm. Days we collected firewood, baked, removed some dangerous tree branches, pottered in the garden.
One blissful day, the girls and I headed down the back paddock with a blanket and our teddies for a Teddy Bear’s Picnic, while the weather is still warm!


And also I knitted some slippers, attempted my first cabling on a beanie for Tara, and am now attempting my very first pair of socks with some beautiful wool from Morris and Sons.

Back to school Monday. The house is going to feel so quiet!

What are you knitting?

xx

Baking, Bikkies, and Beautiful Banana Bread

With the warm yellow sunny days now fading and turning crisper, I thought it might be a great opportunity to share some of my go-to, no-fail baking recipes!
These are regulars in Katie’s lunchbox, or when we need morning tea! 
First, my NO FAIL AWESOME ALL PURPOSE BISCUIT RECIPE!
Yummy! EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.
3/4 cup SR flour
3/4 cup plain flour
1 cup chocolate chips
1 cup brown sugar
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla essence
125g butter, softened.
Mix ingredients and knead with hands to form a stiff dough. Roll teaspoonfuls into balls and press lightly onto a lined baking tray. Bake 180 deg celcius (160 degrees if fan forced) for 12 mins for a soft cookie, 15 min for a crunchy one.
You can substitute lots of things for choc chips! I’ve used nuts, sultanas, muesli, dried fruit, m&ms…
You can substitute coconut sugar or stevia for the brown sugar.
You can substitute 1/2 cup coconut oil for the butter if you want a dairy-free version.
So versatile!

The second staple recipe in my house is my friend Laura’s Banana Bread. It’s super easy, and it’s like a warm hug from a friend on a cold grey day 🙂

LAURA’S BANANA BREAD

125g butter, softened
3/4 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 cup plain flour
1 cup wholemeal flour
1 teasp baking soda
1/2 teasp salt
3 Large very ripe bananas, mashed
1 teasp vanilla

Preheat oven to 180 deg C (160 deg C for fan forced ovens). Mix all wet ingredients together well in a large bowl. Add dry ingredients, and mix till well-combined. Pour into a loaf pan. Bake 50 – 60 min or till skewer comes out clean and top feels ‘springy’.

I promise you it wont last long! And your house will smell AMAZING when it’s baking!

So there you go! 2 staple recipes from my kitchen (2 of many!) that are super easy and yummy for lunchboxes or afternoon tea.

Or midnight snacks 😉

What’s baking at your house?
xx

Fatigue, food forests, foraging and fabulous flowers.

It’s been a hard week. A very very hard week.

But I think we’re finally starting to see a light at the end of the tunnel. Ben did his last full week of chemo, which means we only have two Thursday ‘short days’ to go. It was heartbreaking for me having to drive him there each day, like a lamb to the slaughter. It’s absolutely floored him. He’s lucky to get out of bed each day. And I’ve been doing the equivalent of a single mum and a ‘one woman farm’. I’m exhausted, and the cracks in my armor are beginning to show.

Luckily we’ve had our parents here for the worst weeks, and our new friends have been so helpful! Still, I can’t WAIT until he starts to feel better again.   

Cookie: Constant companion.


And summer is finally coming to an end. We’re going to have to start doing those Winter preparation jobs, like stock piling firewood and hay, and cleaning the fireplace.

The veggies are starting to go to seed with the end of the season, but the garden is still bountiful. Right now there is still tonnes of basil, plus green capsicums, parsley, lebanese cucumbers, rocket and quite a bounty of Gross Lisse tomatoes, still pale green.

We sadly lost another of the older hens last week. Not to a fox this time, but to some sort of respiratory virus-thing that all the others got and got over. But little old Snuggles just couldn’t seem to shake it, and got weaker and more lethargic. She was one of the original hens that were here when we moved in, so god knows how old she was!

Do they all have names? Well, no. But often they name themselves, and we certainly recognise individuals! Aside from Lennon the Rooster, there’s Hoppy (was lame, now better), Shiny (Kate’s favourite), Patchy (is patchy), Scruffy (is scruffy), Trouble (with a capital ‘T’) and Walkabout (who is always on her own at the far ends of the farm pecking at something and reluctant to come in for dinner).

We’re getting about six eggs a day.

And just LOOK AT KATE’S SUNFLOWERS! Magnificent! Planted herself before christmas and lovingly watered and tended by the Hill Shadow Ferals and all our other insect friends.

I can honestly say that we’ve discovered chaos is key in the garden! (Ours anyway!). Ours is an ecosystem. The weeds are welcome!: They shade the seedlings, hide the produce, feed the compost, hold the soil together, feed the birds, conserve the water. Insects are welcome!: the bees tend the flowers, the good bugs control the bad bugs. And we plant everything everywhere in every available space: “Wanna feed, Pests? – You’re gonna have to find it first…!” It is a veritable food forest!

I also recommend what I’ve termed “accidental farming”. Just seeing what comes up. We’ve had a tonne of seeds just sprout from our compost or shoot-off from parent plants. Just leave it be – you never know! Some of those have been our greatest producers! Survival of the fittest! (And if it turns out to be a weed, you can always pull it out later!) An example of this was our potatoes: We just decided to leave it be and see… and ‘presto’! Accidental Harvest!

Also anything you can forage is GOOD. FREE FOOD = #winning! Just be sure any plants you pick arent sprayed, get permission if you need it, and they are DEFINITELY what you think they are (ie mushrooms – mistakes can be fatal!) We have been harvesting LOADS of blackberries from our thicket (we asked our landlord not to spray them!) and found a rogue patch of mint growing in our gully, which we took a few shoots of and have now established in two big pots by our front door.

One day, Old Man. I will get you out for a ride again one day! x

Now, I best go. Tara’s putting stickers on my arms, Kate wants a snack, and there is a suspicious smell coming from Tara’s nappy…

And Im gonna cook some bicuits for Kate’s lunchbox, cast-on some knitted slippers, and feed the chooks. A farm girl’s work is never done! 🙂

xx

Acceptance, abundance, and other peoples’ approval.

Kindness. Always kindness.
I have made a strange discovery. I’ve noticed that whenever we have people come to stay – be it family or friends – I get huge anxieties about food. I feel like my fridge is empty (it’s not) and that I don’t feed my kids/family properly (I do). When I’m on the spot to think what to cook guests for dinner,  my mind goes completely blank and I can’t think of a single thing that I cook for us. I feel like what we eat isn’t good enough for others.

Here’s what we do eat (and what’s in my fridge at the moment):
Fruit (my go-to snack for the kids)
Vegetables
Homemade Greek yoghurt
Cheese 
Milk (soy & dairy)
Gluten free pasta
Pulses
Passata/tinned tomatoes
Freerange eggs (from our girls)
Dried fruit
Nuts
Tuna
Free range chicken / a roast
Brown rice
Bread (wholemeal / rye / sour dough)
Pantry staples (stock cubes/coconut oil/soy sauce/jam/honey/nut butter  etc)
Any slices, biscuits, cakes I bake myself and are sugar, preservative, colour & dairyfree. 
So that’s a basic rundown. Occasionally we have things like weetbix, baked beans, fruit purées or crackers.
Clearly a full, wholefood, very healthy pantry/fridge. 
We eat stirfrys, quiches, roasts, pasta, smoothies, juices, burgers, fajitas, pies, fruit, homemade baked goods, salads, stews, curries, soups…
So why, when we have company, do I feel like the cupboard is bare and that I don’t feed my kids properly?! 
Found! A feral mint patch in the gully! FREE FOOD! Woot!

Take for example today, with my mother in law visiting. Katie said she was hungry and I offered her an apple and instantly felt sting-y and lazy. Like bad parent. A pauper. For offering her fruit as a snack. (“Is that all you have?!”)
Here’s what we don’t have:
Processed cereals.
Packaged biscuits or muesli bars.
Soft drink or cordial. (Ever.)
Milo
Icecream
Sweetened flavoured yoghurt
Cage eggs (EVER.)
Processed cheeses
️Frozen pre-made meals 
Jar sauces/flavour sachets/tinned soups.
But for some reason, these are the foods I feel I should have when guests come! I feel like my kids must be undernourished & underfed because there are no pizza shapes or string cheese stick in their house! 
Blackberry-ing in the gully.

What is this anxiety & where does it come from?!?? 

Clearly I’m doing the right things (just ask your GP!)! And anyone who can’t find something to eat in my house needs some nutritional advice – not me!
But the minute I have people come to stay, I feel the irrational urge to fill my fridge with processed food, sugar, salt, & dead animals. 
Why am I such a people pleaser?! That I will actually do what I know is wrong and unhealthy, just to make people like me! To feel ‘acceptable’! Why do I need to justify the way I eat and live to anyone  anyway?!?!
I guess it’s the age-old predicament. And the instant you say “I don’t eat that” people want to tell you why you’re wrong. Why they’re right. 
“You have to eat meat! There’s no protein in vegetables! Why would you want to do something so ridiculous?!” 
(What?: Care about my food, nourish the people I love, and not wanna hurt things? Yeah – I’m one KER-AY-ZEE woman!) 
Ugh. I need a lesson in confidence, self esteem, and ‘not-givin’-a-f-ck’! 

Basil, baldness, bargains, and being ‘busy’.

It’s a snippets post! Ispired by one of Kate’s.

harvesting

Basil! Omigosh the basil! Im gonna have to start giving more pesto away! And we harvested all of our corn. It was really successful, so I dried an ear as an experiment, and planted a few dry corn kernals in our foam seed boxes, and blow me down: They germinated! So looks we’re gonna get another round of that yummy corn! YIPPEE! Self-sufficiency!

‘Hoppy’ – so photogenic!

reading

The House of Elliot by Jean Marsh. Did you ever see the TV series set in the 20s/30s? It was delicious. The book is just as delicious!

loving

My new slow juicer! I got it on Gumtree for $20 – BARGAIN! Totally worth driving across Melbourne and getting lost for! It’s the kind that makes pasta, and sorbet too. The sorbet is AWESOME.

Mango Sorbet. Ingredients: …mangoes.

It gets a bit less juice per amount of fruit than my old hurom juicer, but it does wheatgrass, sugarcane, frozen fruit, AND it’s so much easier to clean! BIG BONUS!

knitting

I’m about to start a beanie for Ben’s poor unprotected scalp!

His hair finally started to fall out from the chemo, and it was kinda ‘sting-y’, so he took the plunge and shaved it all off. And knock me down: IT ACTUALLY SUITS HIM!!! He looks about 10 years younger!

What a revalation!!!

planting

Wheatgrass for juice, but I’ve had some very mixed results. I put it on a windowsill. In the dark. In the light. In the full sun. In dirt. On paper towels. In peat. Lots of water. Just a mist. Covered with wet newspaper. Uncovered. But despite all my experimenting, I never manage to get the thick lush carpet of grass you see online. I just get a really sickly, wispy few tendrils in a whole tray, which equate to less than a shot of juice. But still I keep trying… It’s meant to be so easy to grow!?

buying

FRUIT! Tonnes of it! I’ve been trying to inject as much raw fresh food into our diet as we can to keep as all as healthy as possible while Ben’s body deals with chemo. And there’s SO MUCH beautiful summer fruit around! The mangoes! The watermelon! And OH the lychees!!!

sticking

– washing in the machine, dishes in the sink, pellets in the chook feeder, toys in the cupboard, the kids’ clean clothes in their wardrobes… It never ends; the ‘business’. I wish I was better at being still. I remember being present when I was young. Relishing moments, living in the now, fully enjoying and appreciating an experience. Somewhere along the line, I lost that. Im always 3-steps ahead: Planning, listing, predicting, anticipating, worrying… I dont REALLY enjoy things like I did as a child, because I’m always somewhere else. Or watching the clock. Or counting my bank balance. Or anticipating disaster.I wonder how I can reclaim that child-like sense of now: Where afternoons lasted forever, and days were full of suprises?

watching

The new series of Broadchurch. I was addicted to series one. I’m already addicted to season two. We always have to watch ‘just one more episode’, no matter how late it is!

relishing

Moments of ‘unplugged’ childhood play. Games with marbles, craft with wool and paint, picnics with toys, making up dance performances, conversations with fairies, games with princess and crowns and magic powers.

listening

To the sounds of Hill Shadow Farm: Horses whinneying, kookaburras laughing, Lennon crowing, Tara talking herself to sleep in her cot, the fridge turning on and off briefly….




We’re in for a big week this week. 4 FULL days of chemo, and poor old Ben is gonna get hammered. I’ve booked the girls into kindy for 2 days each, to minimise the noise/work for us at home so Ben can rest, but also to make sure they’re occupied and distracted while Daddy’s not well.

My mother and father in law will be here for a week, and I think it’ll be ‘survival mode’ for all. But in the meantime: Australia Day public holiday tomorrow to be enjoyed, and our 6th Wedding anniversary (Love you forever, Bear xxx).

One day at a time… one day at a time…

What are you harvesting, reading, loving, knitting, planting, buying, sticking, watching, relishing and listening to?

See you on the other side of the week!
xx

Doubters, doctors, denial, and decisions.

I was speaking to Ben this morning about his treatment and how hard it is to have faith in the medical industry through chemotherapy.

I mean, a few months ago, Ben seemed fine. He was happy and functioning, but his problem wasn’t visible. His cancer was small and new, and not yet outwardly affecting him physically in anyway.

In contrast to this, now that he is having treatment, NOW his suffereing is so clearly visible. NOW he looks like someone who is sick. NOW we are being told that the poisons being injected into him are so caustic, they will burn your skin. NOW he is taking pills and pills and pills.

Suddenly, I have to put immense trust into these strangers in the medical industry, that all this suffering is for the greater good. That their intentions are pure, and that there is no conspiracy at work here. And at these times I can understand opinions like Freelees and Belles.

I don’t know any facts: I only know what ‘they’ tell me. I have no personal experience: All the people I have ever known that have had cancer have had treatment, but have then – eventually – died. The doubters have as many anecdotes, facts and statistics as the doctors. Are any of them really the unbiased truth?

I guess the conclusion I have come to here is “I dont know”, but ultimately “it’s not my decision”. It’s Ben’s body, his journey, and I support whatever he choses to do. And he chooses to put his faith in science and conventional medicine. But, that wont stop me from reading and searching. There’s nothing to stop me from finding complimentary medicines and enlisting a good diet based on unprocessed, plant-based, organic, wholefoods.

I mean, It cant hurt, right?

Pills, poison, patience, and pallid poultry.

Chemo days

This week was totally consumed with chemotherapy. Ben had to go everyday at 9am, sit in a hospital chair, while his body was effectively fed poison, again, and again, and again. He’s been amazing: sleeping lots, woozy and weak, but every minute he feels well enough, he’s helping out or playing with the girls.

He gets nausea – there’s a pill for that.
He gets dizzy – there’s a pill for that.
He gets insomnia – there’s a pill for that.
And he’s been chronically constipated (sorry Ben!) – and you guessed it….

I feel so bloody helpless. All I can really do is make him food/drink, let him sleep, check he’s remembered whatever pill he’s due for, and exit the kids whenever possible so he can have some peace! Phew. It’s tiring and emotionally pretty hard. And this is only after week one.

Eep.

On the Friday I booked both the kids into care, and went with him to keep him company for the few hours in the ward. I watched the nurses come and go: Efficient, professional, and endlessly paitient. I listened to the 93-year-old platelet-recipient in the next chair (“and he says to me ‘what are you in here for?’ And I say, ‘I think Im pregnant’. And then he looks at my paperwork and says ‘*insert medical term here*: I’ve never heard of that!’ And I said, ‘Well it’s probably never heard of you either!’…).  And I crocheted 2 tealight lanterns to sell at some local markets on a friends’ stall.
And I won a free knitting pattern over at Foxs Lane! Woohoo! Another project! I’m thinking a beanie for a certain husband who might need a head warmer/sun-protector soon…
Some people do chemo for YEARS. Thankgod for us, it should only be 9 weeks. HOPEFULLY.

But the garden, it doth provide. It’s all wild and going to seed now. But we still pick cherry toms, basil – loads of that!, lettuce, leeks, spring onion, spinach, corn, oregano, and parsley. Soon, we will hopefully pick our first Grosse Lisse tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, carrots, rocket, and more beetroot.

Corn! BIG success in a bed that nothing else could survive in because we couldn’t keep the slugs away! But the corn was too tough!

What to plant next, what to plant next… 😉

We were so proud of our spotty apricots (BEST JAM EVER. SERIOUSLY!), our “Accidental we-thought-they-were-ornamental-but-they’re-not-actually-they’re-just-undersized Plum Jam” and our poor bent apple tree’s 4 little green apples (I juiced em before the birds ate ’em!) . But our figs are so disappointing. They’re HUGE! We had high hopes! But inside they’re dry and completely tasteless. And before they get a chance to go really black, they get eaten (but not by us.). It’s not looking good. I dont know whether it’s because they dont get a chance to go fully ripe, or because the whole massive tree (well over 12 ft!) appears to be thriving from between 2 concrete slabs in an old garden bed and is deprived of water/nutrients/space..? However, every chance it gets, it send out new shoots, and it is massive and loaded with fruit, so I figure it cant be fareing too badly! Truly, you wouldn’t believe the mutant base of this tree and where it’s growing from. Isn’t nature’s resilience amazing?!

Tomatoes and basil: perfect bedfellows x (and that garden bed literally used to be A BED. Recycling, doncha know!?)

And can we recommend SWEET BITE as a cherry tomato variety?!?! Holy crud, these guys PRODUCED! For such a compect little bush (I’m talking balcony-pot-plant size!) they are LOADED with fruit, and the girls snack off those 2 little bushes every day! Highly recommended!

Discovery! We lay our glass panels (used for mini ‘glasshouses’ over our foam-boxed seedlings) on the weed patches in the direct summer sun! Who needs weedkiller & chemicals? Just leave it a few days, then move it somewhere else! The weeds cant handle the heat, and go brown and die! #AccidentalFarming

And our poor chookies appear to have… um… colds?! I’ve noticed a few looking listless, and they appear to have ‘snotty’ beaks and bubbly eyes… OMG – what?! You guys cant be sick too?! So Im frantically googling and I’ve added some garlic granules to their drinking water. and I swear I saw some lice on one of them… (There’s probably a pill for that.)

So tonight I’m listening to the wild wind, contemplating a shower and the washing up, googling chook antibiotics, wondering WHY THE HELL Katie isn’t going to sleep, drinking tea, savouring a belly full of cauliflower crust pizza (TRY IT), feeling grateful to live in a country that offers subsidised childcare in difficult circumstances, and trying to breathe deeply and evenly.

One day at a time.

-xx-