In Love With Old.

The buying ban is going well. It has been a lot of fun, actually. Apart from my regular hankering for a Thermomix, I haven't yet missed anything. All our needs have thus far been met, and we are enjoying being creative in sourcing things. If we can't find something, we don't buy it.

We have broken the buying ban once. We moved our chicken pen to the back of our block, and discovered that our backyard hose was not long enough to reach the new pen. We bought a hose connector to join our two hoses up so we could still replenish the duck pond and chicken drinking water. We bought a metal one, on the premise that it will last longer, and is less likely to break and become landfill.

I have developed a slight eBay addiction hobby. In fact, I have mastered the art of 'snipering' and have developed a failsafe strategy for keeping the bids low whilst still ensuring the kill win purchase.

So, here are some of my favourite purchases this year.... some of these have come from local Facebook secondhand selling sites, some from Gumtree and of course, some from eBay.

 I actually haven't decided whether this enamel milk jug and cream container will be purely decorative or not.... but I just love them!

 

 I gave my old plastic washing basket to my mum when I found this gorgeous sturdy wicker one. Wicker baskets make me feel like more of a wife and homemaker. I can't explain it, they are just magic like that.

 Nath cracked my old (cheap) mortar and pestle and for the first time during the buying ban I was worried as I wasn't sure I would find a decent one secondhand - its not the kind of thing people generally get rid of. However, I was lucky enough to find this beauty on gumtree for $40, and, even better, it had only ever been used for decorative purposes! These usually sell for $70 - $80 new.

The sifter was something I bought after cleaning out my overflowing Tupperware cupboard. Over the years, I have bought so much Tupperware that I literally had to open the door to the cupboard, throw things in and shut the door quickly so nothing fell out. I did a huge cleanout, partially to empty my cupboard and partially to rid our kitchen of unneccessary plastic. I grew up with a sifter like this (although my mum has since 'upgraded'!) and was thrilled to find this one cheap on eBay.

 I bought Nath this didgeridoo as a gift from someone locally who was selling things in preparation to move. Nath first started dreaming of owning a didgeridoo over five years ago when we were travelling. I remember him looking at some at the markets in Broome. At the time, all of our money was going towards caravan park fees, fuel to get to the next place and food. Finally, I am able to treat him to one. This one is made from Northern Territory Blackbutt wood.

I remember a set of these lined up on my grandmother's benchtop when I was a little girl. This was a purely nostalgic purchase, and well worth it for the looks on my own girls' faces when they saw them - they love the shiny, bright colours (and the sound the lids make when clanged together).

These purchases have weaved their way into the texture of our home and make our spaces feel like they have a bit of story to them. I am loving my home these days, it is so rewarding to create a beautiful, restoring place for our family, and for my children to be able to grow up with some of the memories of special things, similar to the ones that I have from my childhood in my mother's kitchen and laundry, as well as my grandmother's.

Soul-Feeding Play

In one of our many discussions about parenting this week, I said to Nath that parenting is much like trying to shape running water with your hands. No matter how much you try to make it hold its position, it will slip through your fingers and refuse to be contained. We have had 'one of those weeks' in the life of a parent. Just when we thought we were making headway with one particular behaviour, another one springs up and leaves us floundering.

We stayed with some friends over the weekend, on their property in the Toodyay hills. These are good people, and their love of cooking and eating wonderful food I naturally appreciate! They have created an amazing haven there on their little patch of earth, and it leaves you feeling relaxed, calm and contemplative.

My children, especially, loved their time there. They were so calm and engaged, and inquisitive and exploratory. I love it when they are like that. They become little adventurers, discoverers, wonderers.

I sat back in that space to watch them, and it occurred to me... this place has a soul. It is filled with beauty, but, more than that, everything surrounding me was made with natural materials. I tested my theory, gazing around the room. No plastic. Just a vast array of handpicked items made from wood, silk, pottery, felt, stone and glass. I talked to our host about this and she said yes, it had been intentional, as things of plastic have no life force, no connection.

I have been reading quite a bit about the Steiner approach to child development, learning and play. The idea of simplifying your child's play space is something I have come across a bit in my reading... not just simplifying the kinds of playthings your child has access to, but also simplifying the amount. I have been reflecting on the fact that whenever my children are presented with fewer play options, their play is far more focused, far more creative and far more engaging.

I came away from our friends' house inspired and determined to get back into our girls' playroom and transform it from an overly 'plasticised' toy storage zone into a meaningful space that will allow them to play creatively and provide them with some areas to retreat to when things become overwhelming.

Here are the results.

The girls' home corner, complete with a lovely tin tea set.

Quiet space for reading, and toys in baskets.

Miya often needs a space to retreat to - this is perfect.

The drawing/sorting/crafting table.

Small selections of toys - not too overwhelming.

Finger puppets, great for oral storytelling.

Scarves, mostly used for dancing with.

Music toys.

The girls love their 'new playspace' and it has such a positive impact on their behaviour. Their play is contented, calm and creative and they are no longer overwhelmed by the sheer volume of 'stuff' in their playroom (and the mess that needs cleaning at the end of each day!)

And better still, by selling some of their old toys, I have made enough money to buy some gorgeous, WA handmade Waldorf dolls from here!

May You Keep Your Feet On The Ground And Your Head In The Clouds

May You Keep Your Feet On The Ground And Your Head In The Clouds

 

It may seem strange to begin my post with a benediction, but this is where I have arrived after a week of pondering direction, choices and our wishes for the future. For the last few months (the entire life of this blog, in fact) I have felt weightless in life. 

Unsure of the next step, waiting, wondering where the wind will next blow.

Like Mrs Robinson hiding her secrets in the pantry, I have worked hard to seem 'settled'. You know the old saying 'fake it 'til you make it'? We have tried to buy a house here... Miya is enrolled in school... I am in committees, friendship groups, involved in weekly activities... we made plans for the future. After years of moving around, shifting house, town, even state every couple of years, I felt I was ready to give being settled a go. It is, after all, what married people who have children do.

Then we missed out on the house. And I quit my job. And we decided to move to Broome.

And the old anxieties started to whisper in my ear... are you sure this is the responsible thing? People will think you are unreliable. Shouldn't you be providing a settled childhood for your children?

 

I quietened them with a dose of common sense, and by remaining focused solely on the needs of our family. I anchored myself to this plan, this direction, and felt buffered from the winds.

Until this week.

This week, we got options. That may seem like a great thing (how many people in how many countries would not even dream of the options we are blessed with?) but really, all it served to do is re-energise those little whispers in my head.... see? You don't have to do this.... you could forget the whole thing.....the kids are happy here..... and left me reeling. Confused. Unsure, again.

The worse thing is, not even our options are set in stone. Things are open, nothing is certain... there is so much waiting to be done... continuing on with life, knowing things are about to change, but not knowing how, or when.

Many hours have been spent reflecting, discussing, considering the options. I have realised, through all of this, that in the same way many people are terrified of becoming married, I am scared of settling down. I am scared of committing to one place. There are so many wonderful places on this Earth, even just in this great state... and right now, I am torn between just two of them.

It leaves me questioning the premise of home. Our eldest daughter was named Miya, because that word means 'Home' in the Indigenous language of the Yindjibarndi people of the Pilbara area of Western Australia, where we lived when we decided to try for a baby. By the time we welcomed her into our lives, we had been travelling, and were now in the process of 'putting down roots' and setting up home in the hustle and bustle of Melbourne.

It was a hard process. We were broke. We had large gaps in our resumes from the time we had spent on the road. Just feeding ourselves was damn hard work. We felt countryless - like strangers in a land we didn't understand.

The along came our baby.

We understood 'home' for the first time. Home was what we were making for her. Home was us, the three (and later, four) of us, wherever we were. Home was fiercely protecting the sanctity of our family... against work commitments, against the breakdown in communication that often sneaks in without warning... against things that vy for our time and attention and keep us turning away from our most loved ones.

We are relearning this now. We relearn this everyday.. and will continue to do so, I suspect, until our days run out.

I am drawn to the analogy of a tree. The idea of being grounded, yet reaching skyward to our dreams and hopes. Knowing what is good, and right, and healthy... meeting the needs of our family, but not being afraid to think big, to look at the impossible, and wonder.

A tree. A symbol of strength, of tranquility. I picture this, and I know that I can make home. I know that I can be grounded, provide, enjoy my family, wherever we are. I know that, ultimately, it doesn't matter which path we take - what matters is that we continually turn inwards, into our souls, into each other. That we place the needs of our family above all other considerations.

We can do that anywhere. We know this, because it is what we have done in the past.

It's nice, sitting in the shade of our family.

Food In The Belly, Food For The Soul

I write about food a lot. Food is something I devote much of my time to, as well as a significant part of our income. Food excites me, challenges me and inspires me (and sometimes defeats me). Much of our weekends are taken up with the growth, preparation, cooking and celebration of food (and by that I mean eating).

Every society has a food culture of some sort. Countries are known for their cuisine; the particular ingredients and cooking methods they employ, the rhythms and routines around meal preparation, the colour and bustle of marketplaces around the world. Early trade was centred around foods, and what was commonplace for some cultures was exotic and sought after to others. Nomadic communities based their movement around the availability of particular seasonal foods.

I believe that, by and large, Western society has lost its food culture. And we miss it, by god, do we miss it. We spend millions annually on the business of food; fine dining restaurants, specialty food stores, cooking schools, food festivals. I believe that, as we have evolved, this disconnection from food and its production that we have created has left our society feeling somewhat... hollow. We make up for it by spending more millions traveling to other cultures to experience their food culture... and when we try to recreate it with our Western tastes, we adulterate and compromise the essence of the food. Food culture is, and should be, entrenched in the soils it was raised up from.

Anyway, I was determined to write a lighter post than the last two, so I wanted to share with you some of ways we try to recreate a connection with the earth and its edible gifts in our space. These are photos from this weekend, a lovely, productive two days of pottering around the house and garden, feeding our bellies and feeding our souls.

Breakfast: fruit and honey damper with the last of my apricot sauce

Our harvest on Saturday

More bottled tomatoes - a pantry staple

Our little garden gnome, Eden

The bed we planted this weekend - tomatoes and rhubarb

Orange and date chutney simmering away - a sweet, spicy smell

Finished product - three more jars for the pantry

The beginnings of beer bottling

A clean, mucked out chook pen - and our reward!

Another Blessed Weekend.

It's Friday. A sigh of relief. Another blessed weekend, relaxing into our family, slowing down, finishing up and preparing for another week.

Weekends are for projects, for the tasks that require time, and patience. The tasks that still our minds, slow our bodies, let us ponder life, let us enjoy the rituals of providing. 

 My mending basket

The tasks that see us sweeping hair out of our faces, shifting weight from foot to foot, while we absent-mindedly stir a pot on the stove.

Nice, ripe tomatoes for paste

The tasks that see us brushing flies away from our eyes, dirtying our knees and the palms of our hands, as we unconsciously pull weeds, examine soil and feed our garden, with water and attention.

Weekends are for children, for family, for engaging our souls. For balancing the burdens of responsibility with the need for let-loose, energetic fun, for self expression, for reconnection.

My two frocked up princesses

Weekends let us choose what we bring to the home, and what we shut out. What we leave behind, hidden in busy weekly timetables, on messy work desks. When we find time to feed our souls and our minds.

My current reading list

 Weekends are when we re-establish what is truly important to us. We do this every weekend, to keep us in check, to give ourselves something to anchor to during the busy-ness of the week ahead, to keep us in mind of why we live the way we do.

My Sewing Corner

I treated myself for Christmas with a new sewing machine - I had been borrowing one prior to this and wanted something more permanent. Pre-Christmas sales made the decision easy. I got this 'Brother' machine which should see me through from my current novice stage to when I am able to sew with much more flair!

As I am only just learning to sew, I knew I needed to have the sewing machine accessible at all times - if it was tucked away I might never be motivated to practice! I set it up in our kitchen along with some material shelves and boxes that I picked up in our local opshop for $10. 

In our house, we have very limited space. I needed to find a home for my material stash (which is growing weekly - have you ever searched for 'vintage fabric' in Ebay?). A friend of mine was selling a TV cabinet of theirs for $80 which fits nicely into our loungeroom...

...and the best thing is, when I'm not sewing, I can hide it all away!

So that's my sewing space. It's small and cosy, but it works for me.