This just in: Cold. Very VERY cold.

I just found this.

You... It...

WHAT?!

Don't believe me? Check out this pic from Kate's blog!

 

SNOW. IN MELBOURNE.

 

Wow 0.0

 

Icy cold and clear.

Finally got a picture of the beautiful little creek running through the farm, carrying the cold clear water off the mountain. 

The sound of it is just magical. 

Actually speaking of the sound of water; one of the things I miss most about or last house is the tin roof. I LOVE the sound of rain on a tin roof. It was my FAVOURITE thing about the house. 

Unfortunately, Hill Shadow House has a tile roof, but the sound of this bubbling little creek almost makes up for it! 

Still, there's nothing to stop me finding a bit of tin and propping it somewhere outside my bedroom window now, is there? ;) 

What do you love about where you live? 

What could you not live without?

Lenin the Rooster

Master of his domain!

Overseer of the farm! 

Supervisor of activities! 

Controller of slug populace!

Protector of hens! 

Keeper of the realm!

We bow to his Golden Magnificence! 

This post is brought to you by ignorance.

I've just finished reading Jackie French's ' Year in The Valley'  and something pretty weird just struck me. You might think it's odd that this just struck me, when I have dreamed of being on land for so long, but here it is:

I have NO IDEA how to grow stuff.

I mean seriously: Beyond 'stick the rooty-end in the ground, leaves pointing up, and water it', I am completely ignorant. I have no idea what plants to grow where. I have no idea how to plan a garden. Previous attempts on my part have resulted in disaster.

Like the time I planted 6 snow pea seedlings, which promptly were dug-up and eaten within 2 days by birds. I planted carrots. They grew into all leafy top, no carrot bottom. I planted broccoli, it went immediately to seed without any broccoli. I planted cabbage. The slugs loved me for it.

Any success I have ever had growing ANYTHING was an accident. A mystery vine grew in our backyard. I let it. It grew and produced what turned out to be 4 decent sized but very tasteless pumpkins! Hurrah! I grew lemons. No let me rephrase that. Someone planted a lemon tree on the block YEARS before and it absolutely DROWNED us in lemons each year, through no effort of mine. One year we had a bumper crop of beans. Yeah: That was weird. I tried tomatoes. Since my grandmother supplemented her husband's income by farming tomatoes around her 7 children, and my step dad grows OUTSTANDING tomatoes, I though maybe - just maybe - I had a genetic 'tomato-growing' advantage... The tomatoes grew GIANT. Well the plants did. Too bad they didn't produce a single fruit.

Yep, if it were up to my gardening skills, my family would starve. But possibly the local insects and birds would be extremely well-fed.

I have a lot to learn.

What struck me reading Jackie French's book, is that she lives in a very similar environment to that which we will be residing in on Hill Shadow Farm. A bushland valley, alive with wildlife. And the question that kept coming into my head again and again is "How the HELL does she do it?" How does she harvest veritable gluts of food for her family, while her garden is constantly under siege - by her own admission - from wombats, cockatoos and lyrebirds! Why don't grubs eat all her spinach before she gets to pick any? Why don't the weeds - which she admits to never pulling out - swamp her seedlings and take over the garden? Why aren't her cucumbers furry and moldy? Why aren't fruit fly attacking her peaches? What the hell is the secret?!?!

Oh man.

I have ALOT to learn.

I wonder if I'll always feel like this?

I'm wondering if my romance with this place will end shortly after we move in and the novelty wears off. Once day-to-day drudgery sets in, will its wildness start to irritate me?

 

At the moment I love the cold crisp air that burns my cheeks. I love the bubbling creek trickling over the weeds and stones. I cannot get enough of that mountain: I cant wait to explore its trails and rainforest darkness. Today I pottered down to the back of the paddock to remove some branches that were over hanging on the fence, and I noticed a little trail snaking off deep into the bush. And I was itching to explore.

 

I wonder if after a few months I will be completely ambivalent to it? If it will be just more mud and inconvenience, trees and work, the way I've heard people talk about their farms (and inwardly cursed their luck at having such things to complain about!). I've waited and dreamed and waited and prayed for a property of my own ever since I can remember, and I wonder if this is the beginning of a beautiful love affair, or a big culture shock.

 

Or maybe both!

What blog? Why blog? How blog?

Its a weird thing, blogging. I find myself with such mixed feelings as I write this. 

What if I can't write? 

What if it sounds like a wank? 

What if no one reads it? 

*omg* what if SOMEONE READS IT?!

I'm not that interesting. 

Should I make it personal? 

What if it's TOO personal?

What if I get criticised?

What if I get stalked (pfft - that's a little up-yourself, don't ya think?) 

What if I get in trouble with the law? 

What the hell makes me think my blog will be any different from the millions of other ones out there? Or any good?

...no idea.

Here's what I do know: if you spend your time doing what you're passionate about, you can't go wrong. 

Here's what I love:

My girls: My wild, crazy, kind-hearted-messy haired, lick-the-bowl, dirty-face, snotty-nosed, vanilla-cupcake-smelling girls.

My husband: my warm-hearted, fearless, funny, happy-go-lucky, best friend.

Our menagerie: our 2 mongrels, our arrogant sod of an ex-galloper turned trail horse, our cheeky pet rat.

Books, baking, knitting, creating. Being outside, being warm by the fire, appreciating the small things, reconnecting with nature & the simpler life. Being kind, being real, being honest, taking joy. 

So that's what I'm going to do. We're going bush. And I'm gonna write about it. I'm feeling the doubts, but I'm doing it anyway. And I'll see where this goes. And you can read it if you want. But I'm not writing for you. 

I hope you enjoy it. 

X

The Jonquils are out - Winter is here.

I always know it's winter here when the Jonquils push through the soil. At the moment little clusters of dark green spears are poking through the mud everywhere at the Mountain House, and you can't help but be cheered from the icy gloom of winter when you smell their sweet scent and see their little delicate white faces.

I cant believe we'll be living here in a little over a month! SO MUCH TO DO!