Growth and Loss

It’s been a while since my last post, sorry about that but things have been quite busy around here.  Ian and I have had to assume the roles of farmers, builders, animal rescuers and undertakers, and social butterflies.  We’ve also finally had a well-deserved break, taking 4 days in Whistler.  The theme ‘growth and loss’ runs through the elements that I want to talk about…farm, animals and people.

Let’s start with farm.  Growth has come in the form of the fruit cage and the barn.  When Ian proposed his plans for a fruit cage, I envisaged something about twice the size of the average garden greenhouse.  Once again I underestimated the scale of Ian’s plans.  The frame of the fruit cage is now up, painted and concreted into the ground – what a day of hard work concreting was.  We drafted in our good friend Kyle to help, I’d like to say he volunteered but it was more like he was voluntold to get up here.  We wouldn’t have managed without him.  Thanks Kyle.  All that’s left to do to the fruit cage structure is netting the sides and top.  We’ve managed to acquire some netting from a construction yard for $300.  The frame interconnects with the chicken coop so the chickens can roam free in the cage, foraging and fertilizing as they go.  This should keep them busy for a while as the finished size of the cage is 160ft long x 100ft wide x 16ft tall!

The ‘loss’ is in our schedule.  The building of the cage has taken so much time and resource that we have missed our window of opportunity to plant a winter cover crop.  We’re just not ready to do this and, once again, are running out of money to plant this huge area.  We’ve been back to the drawing board.  We’ve found someone who wants rid of horse manure so we will use that and maple leaves from one of our big trees to create a natural compost that can be tilled into the ground.  Everything will be ready for planting in the spring.  Although, I found four apple trees on the sale table at a local nursery that can be planted fairly soon.  The weather here is surprisingly mild at the moment so we’ll get them in soon and then use wood chips from the tree we cut down last week to cover the roots and protect them from frost.  Although this veers away from our original plans, I am pleased with how it meets our values to reuse as much as we can and reduce waste.

The other farm achievement is the barn.  This is a very literal growth with a big extension on the side.  This fully insulated addition will serve as Ian’s workshop.  He has done a fabulous job of removing the original bevel cladding from the inside of the original barn and reusing it to clad the new addition.  It blends in perfectly; we’re really pleased with how it’s turned out.

The original barn has a new career!  When we moved here, it was very dilapidated and neglected.  It had been built as a cattle shed but had not been functional for a number of years.  Much to Ian’s annoyance, I had arranged a thanksgiving dinner in the barn…for 25 people!  In my mind this entailed cleaning out the junk and sweeping the floors in preparation.  Once again I underestimated the vision that Ian harboured.  On the Friday before thanksgiving, we started work.  The barn was emptied, striped of all internal walls and cattle feeders,cleaned, insulated and internal walls re-installed.  By thanksgiving on the Monday, 25 people sat down to an epic feast in a beautifully decorated barn that was warm and light.  It was a real success that we felt really proud of.

Moving onto animals, I nearly lost a chicken.  Although they have a sizable coop, the objective is to have them free-range.  Until the cage is netted, it’s not safe to let them roam free; I was reminded of this 2 weeks ago.  When I’m out on the farm, I let them out and they generally follow me around.  I was painting fence posts (again) and they were foraging about 10ft away.  All of a sudden I heard a frantic flapping; I looked up in time to see a red tailed hawk swooping down.  I jumped to their rescue but unfortunately was wedged between fence posts causing a complete wipe out.  Thankfully this commotion was enough to get the hawk to retreat to the top of a fence post of the fruit cage and give me time to herd the chickens back into the coop.  But there was another loss.  The skin from the front of my shin and my dignity from face planting into the dirt during my rescue attempt.  If hawks can laugh, that bird was laughing at me.  He did not see my fumbling, clumsy, bloodied self as a threat and so he waited there looking down at me with disdain as I shouted at him and waved my arms in a fruitless attempt to frighten him away.  In fact, he totally ignored me until I walked away, at which point he saw fit to try and take the dog.  More by luck than judgment he failed and Baxter lay quivering on the floor.  As I consoled the poor dog and wondered aloud if canines can suffer from PTSD, the hawk landed on the guinea pigs outdoor cage and started pecking at the mesh to get in!  This bird was relentless.  It’s a jungle out there!

The final animal loss came yesterday.  We had just returned from Whistler and had put the pigs into their outside run as the weather was glorious.  I looked at the g-pigs and stupidly thought Enzo was sleeping.  They do sometimes lie on their sides and snore, but Enzo was twitching.  Stupid me, I thought he was dreaming, kind of like a dog does!  To be fair, even Ian looked at him and we laughed at how he was sleeping.  Of course, when we went to get them in that evening, Enzo was cold and stiff and Elmo was crouching in the corner shedding little guinea pig tears.  Ok, that last bit about Elmo crying is not true, he was grazing around his dead buddy, but that sounds so cold.  So here we are, faced with coping with an animal death.  We decided not to tell Jessica until this morning and I spent all night worrying about how she would take it and questioning whether we were really tough enough to send animals off to slaughter in the future.  When Jess awoke this morning, we gently broke the news.  Before I started talking to her, I looked into her little face and I welled up.  Here I was, about to break my little girls heart.  But apparently I have raised cold-hearted children because all she said is “Yes! Now I only have to look after one of the little buggers”.  I overlooked the use of choice words in this circumstance and all of a sudden, as Jess and I hugged, I realized that I was not consoling her, she was consoling me.  She rubbed my back and hugged me and reassured me that we would be ok.  Guess it’s just me that has to toughen up!

RIP Enzo

And so onto people.  Mainly Lauren.  Ian and I have been musing on how she has blossomed.  Lauren has a calmness and air of contentment about her that we haven’t seen before.  She’s obviously still wearing her teenage stropiness like a badge of honour, but she’s mucking in and helping on the farm.  She’s looking after Jess when we’re super busy, she’s bringing us tea and cakes while we work and she’s showing her true colours again of being a kind, helpful, considerate and funny young person.  Whatever we grow on the farm, nothing will be as rewarding as that growth.

As I read this post back to myself, it makes me surprised that we have any time to farm as we’re are far too busy building fire pits and renovating barns into dining rooms.  It also has made Ian and I talk about the future.  Obviously the plan is to farm but there’s also a social element that I don’t want to overlook.  We are good at bringing people together, even if I do say so myself.  We enjoy it and work well under pressure and we're finding that people want to be here.  It would be a shame not to utilize that.  It has brought forward a plethora of ideas about hosting wedding, buying yurts as accommodation, providing education farming holidays, building a farm kitchen and café……  The list goes on.  But what I really love is that the ideas are happening organically.  Like everything on this farm.  Whatever happens will evolve because it feels right.  Having no set plans worried me at first, but now I find it liberating.  It feels like our plans ebb and flow with the land and with our own personal growth.  I can’t tell you what the next project will be, but I’m damn sure you’ll enjoy it when you visit.

Dollars and Sense

Silly, silly me.  How did we ever believe we could budget for the unknown?  You've heard me say before that we budgeted and allocated every available dollar and cent to make this house purchase possible, but this is not your average house move.  We've never set up a homestead before and so there have been costs for things that never even crossed our minds.  I’ll give you an example.  Paint.  Not just any paint, Ian believes in paying for the best quality to get the best value and longevity from any purchase.  This belief resulted in the purchase of ‘Shark skin’ instead of just any ‘run on the mill’ exterior paint.  As the painter, I can say that this is a great product BUT at over $200 for 5 gallons, it’s not cheap.  We’re currently on our third 5 gallon bucket.  Then you add painting supplies, etc. and the cost spirals.  Anyway, it’s all good and I’m pleased with what we've achieved but it has made me question whether we've really fully committed to our ‘make-do’ lifestyle.

To be honest with you, it hasn't really been my focus.  We've been so entrenched in the work that we haven’t really considered the cost-cutting part of this transition.  We've still been going out for dinner and I treated myself to a new pair of Hunter boots off eBay and yes, there are indulgences that we could have done without.  The consequence of this carelessness is that our hand has been forced.  Now that the weather is changing, we’re limited on what we can do outside and so comes the time to focus on finance.  Except now we have no choice but to make cuts.  Between now and December when Ian’s company pays shares and bonuses, the belt will be tightened so much we might be blue in the face.  You won’t be seeing us eating out at Milestones or shopping for fancy farm foot ware anytime soon.  So it really begins here, the life and sacrifices of a homesteader.  We knew this would be the pay-off for the lifestyle we've chosen but let see how the theory translates into practice.

That was the blog post I had drafted on Wednesday.  But then something happened.  I met a lady who unknowingly impacted on me with such force; it made me collide with a critical analysis of myself.  I haven’t sought this woman’s permission to disclose her information so for the sake of this post, we’ll call her Kate.

Kate and I met by chance and she came to the farm.  During the course of our meeting, she told me her story.  Up until a few years ago, Kate’s family were average hardworking people.  Kate had worked all her life to give the best to her own three children and two boys that she fostered.  Her story was much like any other until their life was touched by an event of immeasurable cruelty.  Kate projects resilience and strength, but her eyes tell a story of trauma.  Kate has made sacrifices to try and regain some stability for her family.  These are not the kind of sacrifices I am making.  My whining makes me ashamed in the presence of people like Kate “oh poor me, I can’t go out for dinner”, “eeewww, a snake slithered over my foot”, “I’m working so hard, my muscles ache”.  I think that’s what you call ‘a real first-world problem’; these are challenges, not sacrifices.

Kate walked around Laurica Farm in awe.  She talked about her love for the outdoors and the beauty of the farm.  She listened intently to our plans and asked questions.  Kate gave me perspective.  I will not talk about sacrifices again.  Being here is not a sacrifice, being here is a privilege.  We have to work hard, but who doesn't.  At least this is our choice.  Kate’s circumstances are out of her control. 

And so, thanks to Kate, as summer ends and fall takes hold, I am filled with a new determination.  I am determined not to be complacent, to keep perspective on the work and demands and, most importantly, to keep enjoying this challenge.

It'll be alright on the night.

I just don’t know how to tell you how fantastic I’m feeling today.  But before I go into that, my lovely husband is insisting I blog about my recent tantrum.  It’s kind of a confession.

Last week I blogged about being desensitized to all the bugs and animals that share this plot of land with us.  I really made it sound like I was doing ok.  Sadly, I was writing that post just before my hangover kicked in.  About an hour later, the nausea and headache started to mount while we were out on the farm building.  Things weren’t going well, every time I started a job something happened to stop me.  Ian tried to get me to finish painting the entrance and put me on a scaffold tower to do it.  Fear and alcohol excess reduced me to a quivering, sweating wreck clinging to the top of the scaffold as if I’d been tasked with crossing Niagara Falls on a wire.  Pathetic!  I was walking back up the drive to confess my failings to Ian when I stood on a snake.  In its bid to escape it slithered over my foot.  I had flip flops on.  We had physical, skin to skin contact.  That was it, the straw that broke the donkeys back.  I burst into tears and stormed off to the house and went to bed.  I barricaded the door to stop anyone coming in, but actually no one even noticed I was missing which made things worse.  So there I stayed for 3 hours, first sulking and then sleeping it off.  I sincerely hope this was a hangover induced episode and not the first cracks beginning to show.  Anyway, the entrance is finished now and looks pretty good.

It’s Monday morning as I write this post and Saturday was the big Housewarming party.  Ian took the week off work to finish jobs and prepare for the party.  But this is Ian so nothing is ever simple.  As well as finishing jobs, he decided to knock down the old but perfectly sufficient extension on the barn…on Thursday!!!  I nearly lost my mind and had to engage in some high drama protests of “don’t you know there are 100 people coming here in 2 days”, complete with over exaggerated hand gestures, foot stomping, eye rolling and hands on hips stance.  But amazingly he not only knocked it down but rebuilt another one.  I’m used to his skills as a carpenter and his ability to work at lightning speed, but even I was impressed with what he achieved.  Obviously not so impressed that I’m motivated to apologise for my eye rolling and other condescending behaviours.

Friday came and we shopped and worked until late, finally falling asleep about midnight.  I dreamt that someone had cancelled the party while we were sleeping and at 4am sat up in bed and shouted “Ian, get the band to come back”.  That was enough to wake us up completely and so we set to work again.  Good job we did because we only just got things ready on time.  Needless to say, things go wrong when you’re under pressure, not least the compost heap spontaneously combusting about an hour before the party.  I can now add ‘firefighting skills’ to my résumé.

Guests started to arrive at 4pm.  I was so happy with how the place looked; the hard work had really paid off.  Not only that, but the food looked awesome.  My friends Jenessa and Kirstin had supported me by bringing platters, salads and homemade marshmallows and our neighbours, Glorious Organics, had provided a wonderful salad with edible flowers.  Ian had doubled the size of our Texas BBQ which created quite the impression.  But most the most exciting thing was the live band setting up in the barn!

Glorious Organics Celebration Salad

The atmosphere was that of an English village fete.  The band was amazing.  They are local guys called The NewAtlas.  I’d left the set list up to them and they managed to please everyone here.  Check them out if you get the chance.  They are playing the local circuit and have a gig coming up in Vancouver soon as well as an album in the works.

The New Atlas

Later on as night approached we lit the place up.  We’d put fairy lights up and made lanterns from Mason jars.  My friend Monique had supplied tea lights from Party Lite and so to add to the effect, we had wonderful scents coming from the candles.  It truly felt magical.  And of course people naturally gravitated towards the Tiki hut and sat around the fire pit.  The Tiki hut was an absolute hit and worked superbly.  The smoke went out through the octagonal chimney that Ian built and the warmth of the fire was kept in.  Just take a moment to imagine it….it’s dark, we’re sitting around a fire, there’s candles twinkling in the trees and white fairy lights overhead and creamy marshmallows being passed around.  The music was playing, the drink was flowing and ‘Sweet Caroline’ was being massacred thanks to an impromptu sing along.  Neil Diamond may have been mortified if he’d been there, but I was as happy as I’ve ever been.

Plans are in progress for a music festival next summer!

Cast aside all your preconceptions of homesteaders and farming ye who enter here.  This is what country living is about.

BBQ made from 2 oil drums - total cost $80

Desserts...mmmmmmm

Setting up

Last minute barn extension 

Hell yeah!

Some revelers enjoying the band

Lining up at the BBQ

Inside the Tiki bar!

The (current) plan

Tiki happiness

Goodness, I’m tired.  And I’ve managed to aggravate a shoulder injury.  But don’t turn away now; this is not a whiny ‘I’m working so hard’ post because I FEEL GOOD.  Something has happened for all of us this week to dispel fears and enthuse us.  I’ll try and encapsulate some of those things but for those of you expecting a high-integrity, agriculture related write-up, call back in a couple of weeks…maybe.

Firstly, let’s talk about aesthetics of the farm.  Remember the adult swing set I talked about that we’ve poured blood, sweat and tears into?  Well, that is almost finished and it’s evolved. Not only does it look amazing but it’s a real triumph to our recycle, reduce, reuse lifestyle.  It can no longer be referred to as an adult swing set though.  When Ian made the benches that were intended to swing, he made them so sturdy that they were too heavy to swing from the frame.  His solution….to roof the frame.  But then another issue;  the benches would hang over behind the frame if they were swinging and Ian’s OCD senses started tingling.  The benches will now be fixed to sit flush with the frame.  We had prepared 6 benches for the octagonal frame leaving 2 sides to hang hammock chairs from, but with the roof the whole thing started to look more like a Tiki hut, and so it obviously needs a bar.  That very week, the fridge at Ian’s office died a death.  Ian reclaimed it of course.  It’s currently lying on its back, raised off the floor being clad in wood.  We will fill it with ice and people can put their drinks inside.

Some of you might have an idea of a Homesteader in your mind and think that a Tiki bar is not an essential part of the lifestyle.  So let me explain why I am pleased with it.  I am happy because it’s a nod towards our intention to enjoy this land.  If you’re working hard then there has to be some rewards.  This Tiki hut is an enabler for relaxation, reward and social gatherings.  I feel it’s an achievement because it looks awesome.  When you drive along the road, it’s the Tiki hut that grabs your attention.  But it’s not intrusive, we chose to paint it and kind of bark colour as it sits next to the trees and the roof is clad in cedar coloured shingles.  It complements the landscape.  But here’s the real homesteading achievement.  The structure is approx. 18ft wide and 15ft tall.  I estimate the total cost of building it to be around $400.  Not bad for something that size!  Had we purchased new materials we think it would have cost around $5000.  Not only that but we have had the experience of bartering and utilizing volunteers.  I will post some photos next week when it’s completely finished.

The next thing that has made me feel good is a conversation with my friend Kirstin.  She asked me how I was dealing with the bugs and animals as I talked about snakes, spiders, frogs, coyotes and alike.  How have I come to terms with these things?  Well, it’s been like an extreme desensitization program.  What can you do when you’ve invested everything into a home?  I can’t walk away and move in to a condo downtown because there’s too much wildlife.  I still let out an involuntary squeal when I see a snake but you just have to plough on (no pun intended).  It’s become more of an annoyance than a fear and that happened real quickly because it had to.

The final thing on my quest for happiness this week came courtesy of the tractor.  Up until now I have found it difficult to tell people "I’m a farmer".  I feel like such a fraud and opt for less intimidating alternatives, like “oh, I’m just a Homemaker”.  This week I completed an unquestionably farm related activity.  I tilled the back field for the fruit bushes and created a huge compost heap.  Even as I was doing it I felt embarrassed every time our neighbours (real bona fide farmers) were in the field.  I imagined them sitting around laughing about us as they wondered what the heck we were doing.  Anyway, we tilled the patch of land once, and then I moved the entire top layer of grass and soil to a neat compost heap that will eventually go back on the same patch of land.  Then I tilled 3 more times, and you know what, it looks great.  I’d even go as far as to say it looks professional!  And so now I’m over it.  I have something to show that I can farm.  I have a patch of tilled land and some chickens, in a coop.  We also have plans now for the veggies, the orchard,  the poly tunnels and the duck pond. Not much, but a start.  I even have a Tiki bar to show that I can enjoy farming too.  Bet our farming neighbours don’t have a Tiki bar.

So to conclude this post, confidence is growing, friendships with new neighbours are developing, epic social gatherings are taking place, volunteers have been fed, food has been preserved, we're having fun, and non-invasive, environmentally sensitive, organic architecture is happening.  Sounds to me like we are rocking this gig.

Me and Mr. Kutcher

I’ve been thinking about Ashton Kutcher in shower.  Don’t worry, this is not turning into some weird confessions post (although he is rather aesthetically pleasing), but I do want to talk about Mr. Kutcher.  First a bit of a farm update.

We have made some encouraging discoveries.  I mentioned in an earlier post that we needed to do some soil testing to help us make a plan for the land and get the best possible growing outcomes.  We purchased a soil testing kit and it’s been on top of the fridge unopened for two weeks.  I don’t know why we’ve put this simple task off, maybe out of concern for what we will find.  You see, the area we live in is zoned as agriculture land.  Great!  This protects us from townhouse complexes springing up around us but the irony is that the soil is not great for growing anything other than grapes.  It is very sandy and stony across the entire area.  However, it was me with my astute agricultural prowess (???!!!) who observed that the soil appeared very different at the back of our lot to the front.  Anyway, we tilled the land at the back this week ready for some fruit bushes.  As expected, sand and stones greeted us.  But that’s ok; we will plant a ground cover crop, such as buckwheat, over the winter and then cut it, cover it and effectively compost it back into the ground.  This will replenish the nutrients in the soil ready for growing.  We think this will provide us with an excellent base for fruit growing.

The next discovery came when Ian was looking for the septic tank and found it at the front of the house, just outside the front door.  I know, it seems a strange location. In digging down to find the tank we found a lovely rich loamy soil.  Perfect for growing veg in the front paddock.  And so, that has settled the debate about what to plant where.  And what do you know….us inexperienced farmers have made these discoveries by instinct and not with plastic test kits!

Back to Ashton.  Some of you may have seen Ashton Kutcher’s acceptance speech at the Teen Choice Awards.  He gave a talk about opportunity looking a lot like hard work.  Good for Ashton, someone of influence needs to tell our youth that success rarely just lands in your lap.  But Ashton Kutcher, really?  Is he a true ambassador for hard work?  Because I thought about it a lot in the shower when I was using a nail brush to scrub paint off my bare skin and knocking scabs off as I went.  I wondered as I plucked another set of splinters out of my fingers while my newly calloused hands burned in the hot water, if Aston with his perfect hair and his manicure should really be waxing lyrical about hard work?  What does hard work look like to Ashton Kutcher?  I know he regaled tales of having to work in a deli or something before he was an actor or whatever he is, but does this really quantify hard work?  Are the kids getting the sincerity of the message from polished Ashton and his clichés?  I would like to invite Mr. Kutcher here to my own personal Farmagddon.  I would love him to show today’s youth what hard work really looks like.  I want him to tell them about waking up at night every time he turns over in bed because his shoulder muscles are so tight and painful.  I believe he needs to talk about feeling like he won’t ever be able to stand up straight again after bending over painting fence posts all day under the scorching sun.  He really should share tales of lifting impossibly heavy timber beams at 10pm to get a chicken coop finished.  Seriously, if you’re going to champion hard work, it should be well researched, right?

Ok, I’m going to leave Ashton alone now.  I’ve started to sound more Kathy Bates in Misery than Cathy Finley of Laurica Farm.  But I will give him this, opportunity IS hard work.  And in the same way hard works looks different to different people, so does opportunity.  I’m sure beautiful Ashton has had many opportunities in his career to become a celebrity, that kind of opportunity sounds like hell to me.  Working here with my knotted muscles and my calloused hands is my opportunity.  It’s my opportunity to give my family something Ashton will probably never experience.  Ashton can keep the bright lights, fancy hair and manicure; I’m all good with my Farmagddon opportunities.

I could sure use a manicure though!

Confessions of a Homesteader

This week has seen a real start of working the land and preparing for what is to come.  Grass has been cut, fences have been moved, things have been planted, trees have been felled, and I’ve been doing what every homesteader does this time of year…preserving food.  Obviously we haven’t had much of our own produce to preserve this year apart from an abundance of blackberries but I did strike deals with local farmers and received a mountain of green beans and mini cucumbers.  I jammed the blackberries, experimenting with Chia seeds as a gelling agent thus avoiding artificial things like pectin, and I’ve pickled the beans and cucumbers.  We have enough pickles for eternity!  I like the occasional pickled onion – my Mum always used to lament about the time I was trying to steal one off her Ploughman’s lunch when I was about 2 years old.  I was so persistent she let me take it in the end thinking I’d spit it straight out and leave her be, but instead all she heard was “nom nom nom” as I tucked into the onion.  Anyway, I’ve never really experimented with other pickled veg until recently.  Thankfully, I really quite like it and I’m looking forward to preserving the excess of our own harvest next summer.  I’ve also been reading about the health benefits of pickling.  I didn’t know until this week that pickling is extremely beneficial to your digestive health.

Along with our productive week, there have been a few ‘hiccups’, of course.  We decided to mow the front paddock with the tractor.  Ian started it and I took over after he’d done a few circuits.  He told me that he had seen voles scurrying around as he was mowing and joked about their funny long noses.  Off I went, looking out for these strange creatures but only saw a couple.  After I’d mowed half the field, Lauren came out to do the remainder.  I passed on the information about the resident voles and stepped back as she pulled away.  As she started the tractor, something wet hit my face.  You know that moment, when you just freeze, scared to find out what the offending material might be…yeah, you guessed it, some mangled body part of a small animal had gone through mower blades and had been ejected all over me.  I looked around to realize it was total vole and slug carnage in the paddock.  The corpses lay strewed around.  So there I was, in the midst of a Farmageddon genocide.

That wasn't the only unwanted animal encounter, this time we were the ones at risk.  We set ourselves up with a camp fire, marshmallows and sticks ready to watch the meteor shower.  All was going so well, we saw the international space center pass over and it was fantastic quality time with the family.  But before we saw a single meteor, we heard howling.  We assumed it was coyotes and didn’t panic but decided to take the dog and kids in as they were extremely close.  As I was walking towards the house with the last few items, Ian turned around and stared at something.  I didn’t need to turn around to know what he’d seen was close.  He just about had time to utter “I don’t think they’re coyotes, they’re wolves” before I started running for the safety of the house.  I know, I know, a bit of an overreaction perhaps, but still, nature can be scary sometimes.

So another roller coaster kinda week, from feeling like we were achieving a lot to feeling that we’d taken on too much, and as always, this evokes some reflection.  It wasn’t until today that I teased out the message from our recent experiences.  It was the Insurance lady who had come to finalize some details that made the metaphoric light bulb come on.  Once she had lifted her head from her clipboard and truly started to look around, she began to do what everyone does when they come here, she oooo’d and arrrr’d and wowed.  It made me think back to when I worked in Social Care.  I always believed that you could support someone in a bad situation to make positive changes as long as they had even a tiny spark of hope.  If their hope was gone, the battle was lost.  One of the things that chips away at a person’s hope is their environment.  Too often did we venture into grim, dark homes and find the person inhabiting the stale space had lost all motivation.  And it’s that belief which makes me confident that we will succeed here.  We are so lucky to have this amazing environment.  A wonderful open landscape with a natural serenity and beauty about it.  It’s the environment that makes people ooh and arrr when they come here.  It’s the environment that keeps us working late at night.  It’s the environment that makes me want to pickle and preserve its offerings.  It’s the environment that makes me want to stay home instead of going out, that makes me happy and content and makes me want to share it with my friends.  And I truly believe that, no matter how many mangled animals splat me, this environment will keep us plugging away to make it work. 

Here’s hoping I still find it inspiring in the middle of a wet, gray Vancouver winter!

Food for thought....

I’m treating you to an extra post this week because next week there will be some actual homesteading activities to report (I know you’ve been waiting with baited breath), but in the meantime I have a few things to get off my chest.  I want to talk about food and emotions – two things that often go together, and one often triggers the other.

Let’s get emotions out of the way first.  I don’t know whether the adrenaline has ceased pumping after the busy time of moving or if my current emotional state is due to going through a major life event, but I’ve felt a bit down this week at times.

As you know, I'm a Brit abroad and it is sometimes hard to live so far away from your family and friends.  Obviously, when times are hard or challenging you yearn for family, friends and familiarity but also when things are good, I miss the opportunity to share it with them.  There’s been a few moments when I’ve been going about my daily activities and I see something beautiful, or I achieved something for the first time, that I wish I could share it with my family & friends in the UK.  Now I need you to understand that I am extremely grateful for my friends here in Canada and have been astounded by the level of support we have received, this is just about being reminded of people left behind.  The desire to hand my sister Shelley a glass of cider or tell Denise about a new granola bar recipe.  To share a laugh with Katie and Julie, or to pop in to Rowena’s for a cuppa while the kids play.  I also lost my Mother 2 years ago and I know she would have loved the idea of us embarking on this venture.

Anyway, I have to admit that a combination of all of this provoked a bout of tears yesterday in front of Ian.  I’m not normally a cryer, thankfully because when I do cry, it’s bad.  I can limit it to a few tears if no one asks me if I’m ok.  As soon as someone wants me to talk, I lose it.  My face involuntarily contorts, turns red and then the tears explode and I lose the ability to talk, breath, gain control.  The last time I had such a crying bout was approximately 4 years ago in the middle of London; a very public display!  We had just left the Canadian Embassy after a horrid experience at the visa office and I burst into tears.  Ian, bless him, tried to console me (or hide my hideous crying face from the general public) by pulling me in for a cuddle.  Unfortunately, he had a waterproof jacket on and so my tears and snot were basically rubbed back into my face and hair.  My muffled protests were mistaken for sobs which caused Ian to hold me tighter and not release me from drowning in my own bodily fluid.   This memory is a brilliant motivator to keep it together now when those moments of sadness pass over me.

Moving on to food.  I was telling a random stranger about our lifestyle transition and the motivations when the lady asked me what I meant by ‘food security’.  I started spouting some generic dribble but was struck about the lack of personal honesty of the words coming from my mouth. 

I read something in The Backyard Homestead Guide to RaisingFarm Animals recently that talked about the issue of food security.  It says:

“The term means different things to different people.  One definition involves having a reliable source of basic foods and not having to worry about going hungry.  Another requires the food to be sufficient quantity and quality to meet your dietary needs and satisfy your food preferences.  Still other definitions specify that the food be nutritious, safe, and healthful.  And some definitions incorporate the concepts of local self-sufficiency and environmental sustainability”.

The woman who questioned made me reflect on what it means to me personally.  All of the above definitions resonate with me but what does it mean on a practical level of running a homestead and providing food security to my family?  So I set about putting together some rules for a homestead that would enable my own personal definition of food security.

1. Animals raised for food production or meat will be allowed to roam free, and live in conditions as close to their natural environment as possible, whilst protecting them from the natural predators in the area.
   
2. The animals will get the best available diet, free of animal by-products.  Think grass-fed cows and flax added to the chicken’s diets, which will in turn enhance our diets.
3. Wherever possible, the animals will be slaughtered on site (not be me you understand, I’d like to think I could do it, but I can’t).  This reduces stress to the animal and reduces mercury released into the meat.
4. No unnatural fertilizers will be used for growing veg.  Last year we used mushroom compost which was very successful.  I do not want to put chemicals on the soil that grows our food, nor do I want these chemicals filtering down into the ground water…we live on a well and have to drink that water.  No matter how effective the natural filtration system, this is a something I want to avoid. 
5. We are not going to get our farm registered organic, because the buyer ends up paying, right?  However, we will set out a list of ethical growing practices, such as using natural predators and pollinators instead of insecticides, etc.
6. We will only use the water for food and animals, not for lawns.
7.  Our homestead will aim to produce minimal food waste.
8.  Finally, and most importantly to my personal values…I will never, no matter how hard things get, resort to making fruit wine, EVER!