6 years out here.

 6 years ago today I woke up on the West Coast after a three and a half day bus ride. I can still remember how I felt to walk out the door of my friend's house and into my brand new world. I spent a week hiking around the city and the provincial parks that surround it. Massive trees fascinate me, and I Revel in their company. I could feel presence again. I remembered what it was like to be in the moment, to feel every breath.

I had no direction, no real plan. All I knew is that I had arrived, I was home... And my destination would be in every single step to come. I tripped around the mainland for a week before venturing to the island. I spent time there with a good friend to reflect and adventure. I prepared myself to find temporary employment until I figured out my footings.

Temporary employment, a few temporary places, and time had passed.. I even ventured back east in the middle of winter to empty out my locker. I returned to find jobs I enjoyed, gardening by the ocean and on the mountainside. The more time I spent in the city immersed in it's happenings, the more I wanted out of it. I was drawn to the forest, the mountains, the water.. it's what I came for. My quest took be back to nature. Fate forced me into it..

Halloween night 2015- the rain burst through the ceiling in my rental house, straight into my bedroom. I took my rent money the next day and bought a pickup truck. It was my home for half a year, at the base of a mountain down by the river. I learned a lot about myself that winter. My limits, my ability to love unconditionally, my ability to change. The evolution from truck to tent to couch to van to farmhouse was a slow and eventful one.

I remember the day J and I drove all the way out here in sub zero temperatures to look at the house. Small, drafty, but that view... I couldn't get over it, I was instantly smitten. It has a yard, room for a garden. Just enough space to live, and a full kitchen. I had to make this place my home. And I did.. boy did I ever.

Our first year we started as soon as the ground thawed. We built one garden bed, and then another, and another... we were blessed with an abundance to share. Year two brought the animals. Rabbits, goats, and then chickens... year three was the year of the pigs. The year of spiraling outward from our tiny home base. Exploring other land use options in our area. Becoming further integrated into the community. Building real connections with our neighbours.

I woke up this morning, in our fourth year in the valley... 6 years after that first morning I woke up on the coast. Today I had that same sense of presence as I walked out the door to let out the ducks and chickens. I felt a strange wave of accomplishment wash over me as I pulled hay from the loft for the goats. Sometimes I still can't believe it... I brought my hobby farming- homesteading dreams to this great big place and somehow made it happen.


Today I go to bed thankful. My freezer and pantry are full of abundance. My dehydrator has been running for days. The kitchen is loaded with stacks of totes of harvest waiting it's turn to be processed and packed away. Who knew I'd make it this far. Tomorrow is a new day.

2 years, out here...

Already?! It feels like just yesterday we were driving out here to an icy, wind whipped valley in the middle of January to try our luck out on the farm. I remember how deafening the silence was the first few days. I remember being anxious to watch the snow melt so we could see what the ground below it looked like, and what it would take to start our gardens. I remember waking up to breathtaking views.. and I still do.

But a lot has changed here in year two. We finally had visitors! My folks made it down for my 33rd birthday, embarking on an epic journey on the road, with my new home as the destination. Though I've taken up residence a few good times in my travels, I'd never before had a home base stable [and for long] enough to be a destination. It was an incredible joy to experience adventuring the area with them, showing them my favourite hidden gems, and living vicariously through them on their epic journey. Shortly thereafter, my brother was on a flight out- his first time leaving the province. What an honour it was for me to host him.. and share my dream manifested, Sandy Shores Farm.

2017 was the year we planted seeds; 2018 was all about the roots. The decision to keep animals was a sign of comfort. As a wanderer, a sign of finding a comfortable place to hunker down for a while was more like building small structures from logs and rocks and branches. Shelters for firewood and a bench to sit on. Setting up a homestead is a whole new adventure for me. Something I've always dreamed of, without knowing how I'd find the means. I am beyond blessed to have this small-scale trial run on a rental property that includes a tiny house. We are discovering what we truly want, need and value in a plot of land which helps for consideration of future moves.

I find that every five years marks a peak for me in my journey, and 2018 did not disappoint. I'm enjoying the adventure of staying put a lot more than I thought I would. Last year was full of surprises that made it oh so sweet- like getting the green light from our landlord [and our wonderful neighbours!] to have animals on our tiny farm. The level of joy and alleviation of anxiety their presence brings is immeasurable. Having them join us [and getting a wood burning stove!] made this place our home.

Speaking of neighbours.. I would say, the most refreshing this about living in the country versus the city is how neighbourly folks are. I've lived in places for a year or more without the neighbours saying so much as 'hello'. Our first year, we were humbled by the community here. In year two, we found our place within it. Acquaintances became friends, some even like family.

I was disappointed for not making more time to attend the farmer's market, so I decided that it would be a good move to volunteer for the 2018 season. It seems as though I happened to show up at just the right time. What I thought would be going to help set up tents and pour coffee ended up being so much more than that. I took my place on the board as if it were meant to be. Good times were had, and friends were made. Together we took a good thing and made it better. I learned a lot about the local community, and met a bunch of amazing people within it! I'm excited to see what 2019 brings for our awesome little market.

As for My-Self...

It has been a beautiful but turbulent four and a half years since I decided to change my province of residency, and regrettably my health has seen much neglect. Finally, almost a full five years later, I'm finding my footing. And with finally finding an actual job in a trade I'd never have imagined to get into, financial stability is even in my foreseeable future. There are no more reasons or excuses for ignoring my health. My poor vessel has suffered enough! I managed to re-quit smoking, it's been just over a year. Now for everything else..

The Sage Thrive Challenge is being revived- this time, I want to keep the promise to myself of always maintaining my health. Big things are in the works on this little homestead, cleansing and purging, building and change. Stay tuned...


xo

Monetarily Conflicted..

It feels like we're caught in the grasps of another 'careful what you wish for' scenario. When we're overloaded with work, we wish for time off. When we're out of work, well... it's a very conflicting feeling of relief- slowly smushed under the weight of anxiety. We've been going back and forth between working long days and having no work to go to for a while. We get all amped about having all these contracts lined up, and then as if by some strange godly sequence of coincidences, every single one of them is delayed for one reason or another. So here we are, broke, and on the homestead.. with no real idea when we will have financial stability again.

But that's okay... mostly. The rent may have to wait, my phone might get cut off, and I'm honestly shocked we still have the interwebs. Even though these things [and many others] are weighing in, it's really hard not to make the most of our 'days off'. The ever-growing list of to-do's on the side of the fridge has quite a few tick marks on it, and we've taken the opportunity in the good weather to begin prepping the animal enclosures for winter. These are things that *needed* to be done, and it feels good to finally have the time to do it.

We also had a very timely offer to make use of some land. Eerily timely in fact. The very last day we worked, we came home to a note on the door. "Come see me tonight!" From one of our friends up the road. He's granting us use of the barn and acreage in exchange for us maintaining the property "beyond the lawn". We have spent the majority of our time there the past couple weeks, clearing out the barn and surveying the available land.

In looking for odd jobs in the meantime, we've found several opportunities for barter. We helped disassemble a barn in exchange for all the materials we need to fix the barn we're using. We can trade a chimney install in an old cabin for possibly a fifth wheel trailer (or a car, but we're opting for the trailer!). We can move lumber in exchange for all the lumber we will need, and chop and load firewood to have a full winter's supply of our own.

Unfortunately, as awesome as bartering is, there's simply always going to be things that require that there mighty dollar. Proper feed for the animals for instance.. it's an expense that is unavoidable if we wish to keep them. For this purpose, and also in an attempt to recuperate all of the savings we had set aside to winterize the farm, we started a Go-Fund-Me. It was easily one of the hardest things to do in my life. Firstly to admit that we needed help, and mostly- to actually reach out. I already hadn't slept in weeks wondering what we were going to do once we were to reach the bottom of those feed bags. And then for days after setting up the fundraiser, I couldn't sleep out of guilt for asking for help. *sigh*.

That said, the fundraiser has already saved our little sanctuary for the time being. I am beyond grateful and forever indebted to everyone who has contributed for your kindness. I'm overwhelmed at the response we received right out of the gate. This will help to cover our operating expenses until we get back on our feet. We managed to make enough doing farm labour for our neighbours to cover the rent for October, and we are beginning to see a light at the end of the two year long tunnel.

The past two years has most certainly been two of the best, most productive and most fulfilling years of my life. We found an incredible community in which to live, a perfect little home with a view and certainly the best neighbours one could ask for. As far as finances go.. let's just say I've been in better financial standing- even in the years I spent living out of a backpack with seasonal employment. Money- and lack thereof- has been one of the biggest contributors to my incredibly destructive anxiety. Attempting to overcome that sickening feeling has been one of my greatest challenges.

I feel like that might be the point of the story. Like we have been stuck in this holding pattern lacking funds to make me realize that my life is not going to suddenly end if I'm late on my bills. To give us an opportunity to grow in so many other ways besides monetarily. To become hyper aware of the resources available around us that do not involve the exchange of dollars in order to obtain.

For weeks I've been waking every night around 3am unable to sleep any longer. The anxiety welled up inside me would boil over into my dreams and push me out of bed.  Then one day, it just... stopped. I'm not going to die of brokeness. There's too much abundance in the world to starve, there's places we can migrate to to find shelter. I found peace in the realization that perhaps money doesn't make the world go 'round. But kindness sure does.

Thank you all, so very much. For reading my blog, for saving our farm, and for sending good vibes and best wishes to help us through one of the most challenging times I've experienced. We can only go up from here. We will continue to pay it forward in our daily lives, to give back what we can to our community, and help as many as we can along the way. Thank you all for the uplifting reminder that there is strength in community. The boys say thank you, too.

Juneuary.. and sorta summer.

I can't even.. it's been almost two months since I've had a chance to write. June was.. strange. Cold. Like.. unusually cold. And rainy. Not that I'm complaining, but It's been an interesting season for the crops. My bro came to visit pretty well a month exactly after my folks had come and gone. The farm has been busy, work has been busy. Even our sworn 'church days' aka Garden Sundays have been infiltrated by laborious tasks when usually we try to stay home in the garden to enjoy nature's bounty.. and catch up from the week.

Three weeks into June we were thrown a bit of a curve ball. StarShip Delilah died on the side of the highway, luckily just off our road.. close enough to slowly limp her home. I wasn't ready for her to die on all levels. I had become attached to that little blue vessel. We were put out for a week in the process of finding her a replacement. Given that we had zero cash saved, and made it by on the gracious help from family and associates, we are now back on the road. Playing catch-up in the busy season though, has proven to be all kinds of exhausting.

All kinds. So effin tired.

I feel a little bit like we've bitten off more than we can chew. I'm up at 5am [well, if I can drag my arse out of bed that quick], and we might be lucky to take our work boots off at ten. We work metal in the daytime, farming in the evenings, and market on the weekends- and a landscaping gig whenever I can fit it in. I cheat and drive barefoot just to enjoy those moments of freedom from being shod. But besides that, my available time for self-care has been reduced to brushing my teeth while I'm taking my morning.. well, you know. I just can't bloody well find the time. And I'm suffering profusely for it. I did it to myself, though.. I did promise myself I'd find things to do. Now if I could just manage my time.

Between my autoimmune disorder dropping my thyroid into first gear, adrenal fatigue, the weight gain that comes with it, and the heat.. I'm just spent. Sleep is elusive yet I struggle to stay awake. Anxiety cranked to max, especially when city is involved. Something has to give. One thing I'd like to do less of, is spend all my time leaving our little town to go work for money that we wouldn't need so much if we didn't have to go to the city for work. Such a catch 22.

To gain a bit of balance, catch up on home and farm work, and spend a little less time on the road, we have decided that starting this week- Wednesdays are farm days. Be it here on the homestead, on one of our other sites, or down at the shop... we need more time to do our own things. Hopefully this will help to break up the week for me so that I can start to get my health back in order as well.

The goats are doing awesome. They are my joy, and our mascots on the farm. I never would have imagined they'd be so easy to train, and so well adapted to our space in such a short time. Which is good.. because the rabbits have proven to be a lot of work. It's still worth it for my partner to have healthy organic meat, but we need to work on tightening our system of caring for them so that it is far less time consuming. We're about half way there.

It's been a strange season for the gardens. Everything fruit finished early, and our vegetables are struggling to catch up. The heat this past couple weeks is pushing them finally.. I can't even wait to bite into my first vine ripened homegrown tomato. I swear I dream about it..
 
That's about all I've got for now. One of these days I'll have a moment to sit and write about it. About all the strange happenings and coincidences, the new opportunities that have shown up as if we had called them into existence ourselves, and all the weirdness in between. But for now it's Sunday, and I have a little more enjoying of that to do before we get back to business.

Thoughts become reality- Love Your F*cking Life.

You really never know when your number will be up. Last week we lost a good friend, someone who reminded us all with every waking moment of his existence, something so critically important we must embrace it every day- Love Your Fucking Life.

This is post number 3 in my Thoughts become reality series, and probably won't be my last. In my first post titled Make a list, I covered how listing is a good first step in 'mind manifestation'. What you think about is often what you 'attract' into your life, and if you make a list of wants it gives you a base point for visualization. In post number two titled Never stop dreaming I went into further detail about visualization, and 'what to do next' once you get to where you want to be.

I've titled this post 'Love Your Fucking Life' firstly to honour our friend, and also because it's probably the absolute best way I could possibly express the most important thing that needs be discussed when it comes to 'mind manifestation'... and that's Gratitude.

No matter how 'shitty' your life may seem to be at the moment, no matter the struggles you might be going through, there is always something to be grateful for. If you spend every waking moment being upset or angry about the tumultuous situation you might be in, chances are, all you'll get from that is more turmoil. Find that one thing, that ray of sunshine, that smile from a stranger, a hug from a child, that fresh cool breeze and say: thank you.

Something incredible happens when you shift from 'I do not want this' to 'thank you'. Your energy shifts, your attitude changes, and the universe around you responds. Hold on to that gratitude as you move forward into your day, and you will find that as you go, you'll notice more things happening to be grateful for. The kindness of a stranger, an uplifting phone call from a friend, a courteous driver lets you out of a parking-lot onto a busy road.

Gratitude sends a powerful message into the universe from your heart. It tells the universe that you are open to receive goodness. When you are in a grateful state of mind and you will find that more things happen to be grateful for. Little by little you are changing your life.

...


I've been in my share of less than desirable situations. I feel almost as though each has a critical lesson that needs to be learned before I can move on, and in the end it always comes down to Gratitude. Homeless, jobless, stuck and alone... all of these situations have come up one by one or all at once since I decided to uproot my life and move west. And in each situation, it took arriving at my wit's end before I'd take a moment to 'count my blessings'. And it was only then that things would begin to change.

My current struggle has been a financial one. I've always been pretty keen and on top of my finances, even when homeless, jobless or traveling. This whole being rooted and learning a trade thing has been an adventure in itself. [Un]fortunately, I had to learn some things the hard way. I was subbing contracts through a company for work, which worked out really well for me. I could make my own schedule, work at my own pace and bid a decent price for the job.

Only problem is, it wasn't always easy to get paid. Having several month long periods of next to no money coming in, and only getting paid tiny portions when it did come, forced me to borrow with lots of interest. Until this year I've always had immaculate credit. That's gone pretty much down the tubes. My bills were always late, I was lucky if I can pay my already cheap rent on time. Something had to change.

I had to make it stop. I had to quit, and hope for the best. I started calling other contractors and leaving messages. Many of these contractors had asked us to do metal in the past, so I figured what's the harm in asking. I listed all of the skills I've picked up this past year, and all that I've learned and just felt so thankful to have all of these things out of the shitty situation. Learning what to do when we really have to improvise opened up my mind to new ways of doing things that I never would have learned in a less chaotic environment. Plus I've become super frugal. Even more so.

When I began to think about what might change if I have to quit my job, I was running through my mind all the things that I was grateful for amidst the shitty situation. I LOVE my team. We're a team of 3, myself and my partner and our friend, the 'muscle'. We work well together, we make it fun, our skill sets and abilities complement each other, and we Get Shit Done. I didn't want to lose that. Plus the builder that we get our contracts from is amazing. And the team of other trades we're always working with, they're great! Everyone smiles and shares, and helps one another out. I feel very lucky to have had a work environment like that. At the end of the day I could still say, "I love my job".

The day I started looking was the same day that company got fired by the builder. They never finished their end of the jobs on time, and delayed our materials which slowed us down on our timeline, and our pay! Persistence paid off, and we found another company to scoop us ALL up together, and right away... and even keep us on the same job site for the same big boss. Only now I'm the 'boss', I pick the contracts and the price, AND the companies we work through depending on the locations. And.. we actually get paid! After a year of struggling [and learning some harsh lessons], it's finally starting to pay off. Woohooo! It's going to take me a while to get caught up here, but I finally see the light!

...

No matter the shit storm I occasionally walk into, I know there's something going on worth celebrating. I do my best to smile at the positives. It might have been a huge pain in the ass to be working two jobs while sleeping outside, but it was kind of neat that I'd roll back to the forest every night and light a fire and watch the stars. Eventually, I found a Home. It sucks big time that I've gotten into a hell of a financial mess, but I learned a lot about homesteading and reducing my cost of living in the midst of it, and I'm very thankful for that. Once I put it all together, I create a better situation. Shit might suck for a minute, but I do my best to always find the light.

I began writing this series because of the reactions I get regarding my never-boring, always changing, unpredictable life that has allowed me to essentially 'live the dream'. I so happen to believe that there is a lot more than 'luck' or 'fate' involved. It's about intention, and using intuition. It involves speaking to- and listening to the universe, my environment, my mind and my heart. I have no science to back my experience with, although I'm sure it's out there.. I just want to share my experience as it is. This is 'how' I've managed to 'Live the Dream'.

Living life 'off the cuff' isn't always sunshine and rainbows, and I've had manage my anxiety to allow myself to continue living this lifestyle. I learn something new- and fall in love with every day. I've learned something that has allowed me the freedom to carve my own path in my moment of existence.. to Love My Fucking Life!

Thoughts become reality series

ta for now.. thanks for reading!

xo

[Merry] "C" word.

For the majority of my life, the feelings most associated with Christmas are anxiety, sadness and guilt. It's never really been an easy time of year. This is my fourth Christmas since my mother passed away, and since I moved west. And it's my first Christmas I've made an attempt to write about it.

I feel like every Christmas since I moved west has been sort of a step-by-step healing process of making peace with the season. And as I'm sitting here trying to write about it, I think I just realized a big part of the reason why. I've had absolutely no cash with which to participate in the commercial Christmas the last 4 years.

That and being so far away I have no place to be, so if I want to spend the day wandering in the woods or lounging in my PJs, I may. I miss family dinners and seeing everyone together, but that part of the holidays gets harder for everyone as people pass on or move away. And now I know what it feels like to be the one that moved away...

My first Christmas out west was an interesting shock out of the whole traditional holiday season. I had nowhere in particular to be, no one in particular expecting me, and it was a gorgeous sunny day. I went for a walk on the downtown east side, and made a friend whose feelings about this time of year resonated with my own. We spent the day together roaming the parks and streets making merry and enjoying the holiday lights.

The whole experience changed my perspective enough to no longer fret for the holidays. That shift was critical to my survival in a far away place. The reality of moving so far away is simply this: "home for the holidays" is seldom a feasible option. But that means, everything else is.

My second Christmas was spent with a couple friends, a dog, and a pickup truck on the mud flats down by the lake. It was a gorgeous, yet frozen sunny day, perfect for a Christmas bonfire. That was the beginning of basically living the rest of the winter in said pickup truck, and it was a beautiful, humbling reminder to be grateful for what I've got. There was something incredibly satisfying about spending a Christmas out in nature. I loved it so much, it has since become my tradition.

For my third Christmas in BC, my partner and I skipped town to go fishing. We drove to several spots to enjoy the winter view, and ate cold pizza for lunch on the hood of the van while watching the sun dance across the snowy river.

We were both invited to his family gathering, even though they didn't know me that well. I was nervous and awkward, but once I was introduced, it was nice to be included in a family atmosphere. We were both squatting in his family's trailer at the time, and though it was nice to have a warm and dry place to sleep at night, we wished for a home of our own.

A couple weeks later, after months and months of camping, couch surfing and trailer squatting.. our Christmas wish came true. We found our tiny farmhouse in the valley.

Neither of us have been big fans of the holiday season, and we're glad to have one another to enjoy the escape into the wilderness. This year to keep up with our tradition of spending the holidays in nature, we took a Christmas eve hike into the woods behind our land. We're so broke this year we couldn't afford fuel to get out to our good December fishing spot, but it was really cool to see what kind of wildlife we could track in our own backyard. I'm glad that we were grounded as we got to experience our local area from a perspective we never had before, which we both enjoyed.

We woke up Christmas morning in our own home. My first Christmas here was in a hostel, the second in a pickup truck in the woods, and the third was out camping whilst squatting in a trailer. Despite having no money, no way to buy gifts or travel far, I couldn't be more grateful to wake up in our very own little home.

Christmas in BC has changed the holiday experience for me. I have no space to hold onto the guilt or sadness. I'm forced to be present, in the moment. Having my partner by my side and living in the place I've always dreamt I'd be is a special gift to me.

Thank you all, near-ish and far for all your love and well wishes this holiday season- and the lovely holiday card collection hanging on our wall. I wish everyone peace and joy and good things in 2018!

Xo

October Love.

It's my favourite month of my favourite season, and this may be my favourite October yet. Rainbows, sunflowers, pumpkins and sunsets. I'm sitting in my living room, surrounded in Home. Pumpkins piled around my plants by the window [and on the porch, and everywhere], produce boxes filled with garden treasures, sunflower seeds drying in their trays, cedar, sage, lavender and mint.. and sweet views out my windows.

Which totally makes up for the chaos that my work life has become. Contractor life is very unpredictable at times. Some jobs are nice money makers, others are a near complete loss. We never really know when we'll be paid, so having the garden [and preserving it's goods] has really saved us through. I hope I never have to go another season without a garden. I'm getting good at my new trade, but still I dream of one day making a full-time gig of growing food.

So yeah, about them rainbows.. there's been one [or a few] every day this past week. The weather patterns out here this time of year make them a common occurrence. Cool mornings, a little sun in the afternoon and rain in the evening. The sun sneaks below the rainclouds for a final peek before setting, creating these beautiful rainbows and blazing sunsets. It's just incredible, I feel so blessed to be here to witness it all. This is our first Autumn in the valley, and I'd been looking forward to it.

And the sunflowers! This was my first time having a plot to plant them since Ontario [besides an attempt in a bucket on a balcony], and they grew to be giants here. The seeds I've been carrying since I'd planted the first handful [unknowingly] on the day my mother had passed. these were the last of that crop, and now I can save the seeds from these ones and continue on with the strain.

The best seeds from the biggest flowers will be kept for next season. The rest, delicious snacks! The seeds from this mammoth are big enough to cover my thumbnail. I'm hoping by spring we can find a place to plant a bit of a sunflower field. They do well enough on their own, and love arid conditions, so there may be a seed-bombing in our near-ish future.

And these pumpkins.. It's pretty safe to say I'm obsessed. I love growing them, and looking at them, I love their smell and colour and texture, I love pumpkin pie it's my absolute favourite! And soup and roasted pumpkin seeds too. So next year, more pumpkins. Their patch must be updated, as this year's attempt was a last minute one. They need better soil and more space to grow.

In the spring we plan to turn, amend, and hopefully mulch their entire bed. This year we just dug little circles to plant the seeds and let the vines sprawl around through the grass, but as soon as they became too big to trim between, the grass took over. Next time they'll have much more space. And we'll likely have many more varieties. I love our little microfarm.

...

This year out here in the valley changed my life. It made me realize that dreams can and do come true. That some chances, though scary, are worth taking. That a vagabond can find a home. And that perseverance pays off. Once I had finally begun to find my footings out here on the west coast, it was a huge risk to move out to the country. I didn't know if I could keep working the jobs I'd had once I moved, or if I'd find other work if i couldn't. But I moved out anyways.

And I did have to quit both my jobs. And I did find other work, doing something I'd never thought I would get into. So here I am, in my dream place, making it happen. It feels damn good.

The only thing missing is my [friends and] family. I have made new friends out here, but it's this time of year I really miss everyone back home. Even when I spent months wandering with a rucksack on my back wherever I could make it to, I always made a point to make it home for the holidays.

No matter where I've ended up, it's always been in the back of my head that if things don't go well, I can always go home and start again. But I never really pondered what would happen if things did go well. I suppose I wasn't expecting to last this long out here without returning to my homelands for more than just a visit. I guess I never really thought about how it might feel to be so far away from everyone when they're gathered for a legendary turkey dinner, and I'm out here contemplating what I'm going to do with a holiday Monday.

Probably load up the boat and go fishing. My new BC holiday tradition.

...

That garden tho. Seriously. It's hard to worry about anything too much when I'm standing there overlooking my edible landscape masterpiece, admiring a mountain sunset. Knowing that I've found my place, land that I can grow on, and a community I can thrive within. It's hard to miss a place I love but can't stand to live in, when I'm in a place like this.

I'm so thankful for every minute of it.

That said, if you're reading this, Happy Thanksgiver. Please know that even though I can't be close to you, you're always in my thoughts. They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder, and I believe that to be true. Not that I didn't love you all before, but being so far away for so long, I've learned a whole different appreciation for the important people in my life. I'm thankful to have you in my life. My friends and family [same diff amirite?] are my lifeline and I know I wouldn't still be here if i didn't have your love and support. Cheers to you this turkey day, and every day. All the love.


xo

Happy VANiversary, StarShip Delilah!

It was a year ago we found you, and the weather was just the same the day we brought you home. First good rain of the season, a bit of a chill in the air.. and you were there for us. Beautiful, blue... patina and perfect. Best four hundred bucks ever spent, for forty thousand kilometers you have carried us. Well worth every cent.

You've taken us on so many adventures. To places I could have never been without you.. Camping in the mountains and fishing trips, you kept us warm and dry. Up mountain trails and down the backroads, to lakes and rivers and streams. You helped me find the most beautiful places, that once only existed in dreams.

When winter came, you didn't once fail me. We dared the icy slopes which bigger trucks had slid backwards and down, but you pulled through. And there was that time we took a wrong turn out in the country where even snow plows dare not go, and you blasted through all the waist high snow drifts with ease. I'll never forget that ride, the most exciting drive of my life.

Having you opened up my world. You gave me more freedom to choose a new line of work, and for us to find a home base far beyond the reaches of public transit. The freedom to explore the world around me from a broader perspective, with a little 'home' on wheels.

Thank you StarShip Delilah, for everything. For all those blissful moments 'out there'.. for carrying all of our gear, our food, our firewood. Thanks for not giving up no matter where we ventured, for laughing with us at those '4x4 only' signs.

It's been a good year. It's been a blast having you around, you're a real conversation starter too. That still surprises me.. it's not like you're a show car or a sports car or a big jacked up truck, but what you are is nostalgia. People love to see you, still out there on the road. You were many people's 'first', even best or most reliable vehicle they'd ever owned. You inspired complete strangers to share stories and memories with us in the most unexpected moments, and that's pretty cool of you.

I never expected what was to come once we found you. You changed my life. You gave me the opportunity to become comfortable enough to drive. To push my own boundaries, to challenge myself. When I was younger I never had the desire to drive, but you opened my eyes. It'll be a challenge to find a successor as my trusty automobile, things just aren't built the way they used to be. Like my solid steel, oldskool driving machine.

Moving out to the country was a dream come true. We couldn't have done it without you.. You carried our couch, our bed, and all the things. You helped us find a place to call home. So many trips for lumber and soil and garden supplies, you even carried the rototiller not just once, but twice! You're a work horse, a tent, a mobile living space. Thank you for doing it all, with grace.

  

Happy Vaniversary, StarShip Delilah!

xo

3 years later...

Ah man I'm bad at this. It's been an eventful summer that's for sure. The garden exploded, and we've literally been feeding the town with it. We use our produce in barter and trade, and the freezer chest is full. Loads of it are just given away. It's a beautiful garden, my best one yet. It's a fair bit of work to maintain, but it's more than worth it.

It's been a long, hot season. It's rained sparsely twice in the past 3 months, and this is the worst season for wildfires yet. We had a few days of relief from the smoke, but as I drove home today I could see a thick haze on the horizon. We're enveloped once again.

We find relief from the heat out on the water. My partner reclaimed a boat he had stashed in a barn. It took us a bit to get it up and running again, but it's been well used since. We are surrounded by lakes and waterways and blessed with beautiful places to fish. Our season started out well, we caught 7 rainbow trout in a few hours on our first lake run. Only half the luck since, and now we're waiting for the salmon. And the rain.

Work has been ...interesting. I have learned a lot in the 8 months I've been working with metal. I am learning from the best. Our team is highly sought after in the valley. Contract work can be unpredictable at times though when it comes to lining up jobs (and getting paid for them). We've had a couple nerve racking lulls, but then a week later we're turning down work because we're booked solid. It's kind of funny that we live in a tiny little farm house, and work in 4-8,000 square foot homes worth millions. And some with unbelievable views. BC stands for bring cash, and man do they ever.

I wish they'd share the wealth... though our schedule is full, our budget is still hella tight. We just barely made rent on time for the first of the month, and with so many bills coming up [and a couple weeks before we can expect any more pay] everything is on the line. My wheels, my phone, and ultimately our home. If only we could pay rent with vegetables...


It makes me think about the perception of wealth. If produce was currency, I'd be rich. Therefore, I suppose I am. It's reassuring to know that if the economy went for a dump, at least we can produce our own food, and lots of it. We need to get a bigger fire safe for our seed collection.

Besides going to work and our occasional trips to town, we live a very simple, localized lifestyle. It's very old timey and laid-back. As I was saying about the barter and trade, it's a part of life out here for 'people of the valley'. Most of our food came from somewhere in this community, trading zucchini and squash for farm fresh eggs, and our tomatoes and seeds for the sweetest corn on the cob I've ever tasted. It's such a contrast from city life, out here in the country.

Which by the way, was always a dream of mine. It's been 3 years now since I landed here. 3 years ago I stepped off that greyhound bus. I had no real plan.. If you would have asked me right then and there where I'd have seen myself three years later, I wouldn't know what to tell you. I could have ended up anywhere, or continuously traveled.. I could have gone back east, back to the land from which I came. but I'm still here.. I somehow passed the test of time that comes with east-coast peeps moving west. many go back in the first year and a half. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered it more than once. 


 It wasn't the easiest choice to make, nor the easiest ride to take when i decided to stay. I've faced almost as much adversity the past three years as I had in the 29 years before that, but also experienced some of the most beautiful, priceless moments of my life. I would never take it back for anything. the places that I've been, the people that I've met.. it's just incredible. Even if I had to lose everything once or twice to get there. Even if I had to miss everyone back home so much to make these new connections, I would never wish it hadn't happened. 

If someone would have approached me that day I stepped off the bus and told me where I'd be in a few years and what I'd be doing, my response would probably be something along the lines of 'I wish...' and that's the craziest part of all. I wouldn't have believed it. Couldn't have even dreamt it... at the same time now that I'm here, I couldn't have imagined it any other way. Although I have these memories of my mother speculating how my life might end up if I moved out west, and it's almost creepy how spot on she was. I didn't really believe her either. But if I remember correctly, I'm pretty sure I did say 'I wish'. If I could only tell her, and hear her say 'I told you so...'. But I do. 

I do.

The adventures of staying put.

If you know me, you know I have a hard time with the idea of staying anywhere too long. I get itchy feet, the travel bug bites me pretty frequently. Or at least it did.. I'm not sure if I'm just getting old or I've finally grown out of it. Not completely, I still like adventuring, as long as I have my home base to which I can return.

I've had some tempting offers for travel come my way the past few weeks, which I somewhat hesitantly declined. Usually if someone says to me, hey let's drive across the country or, grab a flight my way I have a place for you to crash while we go explore for the next month... I'd be all over it like white on rice. Not this time.

Staying put is an adventure for me. Putting down roots and having a place of my own is a kind of unknown. I've moved more times than the number of years I've been alive. Most of my twenties were spent toting a rucksack someplace or other. Renting rooms, basements or storage lockers to keep my belongings in place while I wander.

...


There's excitement in having a space to grow a huge garden. Every day something is happening out there, sprouting, growing, changing. Being able to produce my own food and have extra to share sounds like a pretty good time to me. Having something to look after and put energy into that has a bountiful return. It's fun, satisfying and relaxing to spend time wandering the rows and maintaining the plots.

Our space changes every day. Structures are built as they're needed, then disassembled and re-purposed as our needs fluctuate. Today the bird scares were taken down and their posts became our fence. Our poly tarps became our greenhouse, our rocks to hold the tarps in place became a border for the zucchini patch.

...


I appreciate simple luxuries such as having a kitchen to cook and create in. I don't mind having to clean it knowing it's my very own space. I get to use it whenever I want. That's a pretty rad thing coming from a long history of rooming houses, hostels, crashing couches, shared spaces or no place at all. Maintaining my home and living space is a pleasure I don't take for granted.

I feel so lucky and so blessed to have found a place in a small town in the valley. The commute to work can be a little far at times, but at least it's a nice drive with a sweet view and not being caught in gridlock city traffic. The sky is always changing, the clouds put on a show. We see columns of rain, patches of snow, and often enough a beautiful rainbow.

We went to town to buy a line trimmer on the weekend. And I was thrilled! It was my birthday gift. I couldn't wait to take it home and make my yard look good. I'm stoked for the season to change so I can see what this place looks like when the trees have leaves and it's sunny all day.

Oh yeah, and I'm learning a trade which in itself is another huge adventure. I'm getting better every day. If I learn the ins and outs, I could be traveling in the future to follow the work. I think we're in a pretty decent place to be close to developments for a good few years to come while still being able to enjoy life outside of it all.

Life is good. And still an engaging challenge to navigate through day to day life. Staying put isn't necessarily an 'easier' way of life than being transient, it's just different. Maintaining a routine, a house, a garden, a schedule.. it's satisfying. Learning more about our little town and the people in it is intriguing. I'm excited for the upcoming farmer's market season. For summer, and autumn, and everything coming full circle.

4/20

I never thought today would be so hard. 14 years ago today was my first day in the field rocking my film SLR capturing the 420 scenes, celebrations and marches for freedom with the crew. Matt if you're reading this, thank you times a million for bringing me along. It's also my 14 year friendiversary with everyone's good homie Clay, and his amazing family. Today is the first year since that I haven't talked to him on this day. I miss him. We all do.

Three years ago was the first Toronto march since that I did not attend. It also happened to be Easter Sunday that day, and my mama didn't want to be alone. She invited me over for Chinese food Easter/birthday dinner. It was the first time in years I'd seen her smile (with teeth!), and the last time I ever hugged her goodbye. If only I had known it'd be the last time I'd see her face to face.

...

Yet as I stand here in this garden, they are with me. My mother lives on in the sunlight that shines bright through the rain. Our brother is heard in the excitement in our voices as we rejoice the emergence of new life. I believe it to be true that we live on in the hearts and minds of those who love us.

Today I am thankful for these memories. Today I am grateful to have my bare feet in the soil, watching my garden grow. For my life and everyone who has been a part of it, I am blessed. 

Bring it Spring

It's been a long, cold and eventful winter, and I'm glad to finally see it's end. At the start of the season I had no idea where I'd be by the end of it, or that we'd get so much snow. Lesson learned, trust the almanac.

Moving out to the valley in the middle of winter was a huge risk for us, but I'm glad we made the move. Though it's not officially spring until tomorrow, we've been busy the past few weeks prepping our garden beds between the last couple winter storms.

The gardens are finally ready for planting. It took a lot of time and hard work to turn our compacted sandy, somewhat grassy yard into a rich, prime place to grow some food. Now that the topsoil and composted manure is turned in,  the grass is weeded out, and the beds are raked into rows, we can begin to sprout our seeds.

A lot of what we have will be started indoors over the next couple weeks, and after last frost the rest can be sown directly into the soil. We have 21 rows total between the two beds to work with, and a few dozen types of seed.

Our landlord was worried at first that we wouldn't have the time to maintain such a large growing space given how much we work, but so far even with shorter daylight hours we've managed to make it happen. It kinda helps that the van has been out of commission for drives to the city the past couple weeks, so I've had to skip out on the landscaping. Spending almost ten less hours a week stuck in traffic has given me more time to focus on other things.

My apprenticeship for instance. When I first started working with metal I wasn't as confident that I'd ever be good enough at it to make a living. But since I haven't been able to go to the city to focus on the landscaping, I've been working full time improving my metal working skills. It's another one of those things I'd never seen myself getting into but I'm glad I did.

Being contractors means setting our own hours, and since my productivity is improving we don't have to spend so many hours at work. We can indulge in occasional journeys down to the river to get our lines wet before work, finish a house, and still have enough daylight hours and energy to go home and play in the dirt.

Our lifestyle out here supports both my longing for a stable home base, and my sense of adventure. For once I'm finally able to get the best of both worlds. I have a place to call home in beautiful surroundings where I can garden and be comfortable, and I'm closer than ever to the wilds. It's taken a while for the reality to set in. Just a few months ago we had no real plan besides making it thorough the winter. And here we are, on the cusp of spring, ready to plant.. putting down roots in the valley. Thank the gods for our home sweet home.

The valley under ice.

Just days after the valley was slammed with an epic snowstorm, the temperature rose as the next system rolled in. Snow turned to rain, but the windchill froze everything on contact. We woke up blanketed in a sheet of ice. We made an attempt to get out of the driveway, only making it to the next property over before having to turn around. With all the ice, snow and slush on the road, gaining traction was impossible.

Shortly after noon, as we'd suspected might happen, the power went out. Our area was one of two hundred other outages across BC leaving tens of thousands of people in the dark. Thankfully I'd just finished my baking for the day, so I had some fresh made snacks to load up in my pack.

With not much else to do, I decided to go for a walk. The rain had subsided for long enough that I could bring my camera out and capture some of the epic scenes left behind by the storm. And meet some of our neighbours in the process.

A couple houses down, one of our neighbours with the farm tractor (the one that dug us out before) was clearing the driveway for the old man at the wood shop. I had a chance to say hello. The old fella struck up a conversation and noticed my camera, and invited me onto his property to get some shots.

He commented on the sheet of ice that coated the barn reflecting the daylight, and insisted I take a shot. He has dozens of bird houses that were strung with icicles all over the yard. Old machinery equipment and a canoe hanging outside his shop looked as though they had been frozen for decades.

As he pulled the door to the wood shop open I felt a pulse of warm air hit me. He had the wood burning stove pumping and it felt nice to be warm. He showed me around, and he had a few customer orders sitting up on tables ready to be stained. There's a local native woman that paints beautiful scenery, wildlife and folk art on panels of wood which he then inlays in his hand made hope chests. Their work is sold to locals in the valley.

After telling me a few stories and showing me every piece of work in the shop and all the types of cedar he uses, he showed me out of the shop. He said if I ever had nothing to do again, I was welcome back any time. I told him I'd be back some day with prints for him.

As I carried on down the road I was joined by an old black lab that lived on the horse farm. She led me down the gravel path looking back every so often as if to make sure I was safe. I stopped a few times to hear the trees splitting under the weight of the ice, sounding off like thunder as the branches and tree tops crashed to the ground. Ice bombs began to fall off the wires above. I'd have to tread carefully for the next mile where several giant trees lined the road along the river.

I made it to the middle of a long stretch of trees when I suddenly heard the cracking right above me. I tucked my camera into my jacket quickly and ran for it. Smash! I looked back to see a huge branch shattered to bits on the road right where I was standing. I thought to myself, now I've done a lot of crazy things to get a good shot, but this might just be up there amongst the most dangerous. My heart was pounding, and I kept on going.

Finally I crossed the bridge over the creek where the old man with the scrap yard was shoveling his driveway. I wasn't expecting him to say hello when I waved, but much to my surprise, we ended up chatting for an hour. I've passed him a few times driving by and I always wave, and he never seems very eager to interact, so I was pretty stoked about our conversation.

After our long talk and the show around the yard of his massive inventory of trucks and parts, I was on my way again. I'd just made it to the end of my road when the plow turned down. I jumped out of the way with an enthusiastic wave, we'd finally be dug out of the mess! Moments after I'd sent a text home warning of the incoming plow, I got one back saying the power had been restored. I took a few more shots and turned back.

Just in time too, when I was about a hundred meters from the house the wind picked up again knocking down all the ice. More rain blew in, and in less than an hour there was no evidence that our world had been coated in ice. I was thankful that I'd made it out for my walk when I did, had I not gone I'd have missed out on a photo opportunity of a lifetime. We don't often get weather like this here, and the conversations I had along the way made it an amazing journey.

Today the sun is out, and the air smells like spring is on the way. I'm so thankful that our roads will be safe again and all the snow is melting, as beautiful as it was. The adventure continues...

StarShip Delilah

She's mine. She needs a little love, but for 400 bucks I really can't complain. Four hundred dollars for freedom. A few days pay to be able to get out there. I got us down to the river in the morning without depending on someone else to give a ride. What an amazing feeling.

I'm still a little rusty when it comes to driving, but I'm getting better. Just need more time on the road. My partner/driving instructor has been very patient thankfully. It's been more than a couple years since I've driven on city streets and even then, I had never owned a vehicle. I didn't decide to go for my license until my 29th birthday as I was always afraid to drive. Fast forward to today, and driving is all I wanna do.

I never said I was especially good at it, but I'm safe. I effing suck at backing in to parking spaces. My next step is to do my road test so I can drive on my own. For now she's our little adventure mobile, but come next year I'd also like her to be making me some money. Having my own vehicle means that I can carry my own tools, which means that I can pick up my own contracts for gardening. Slowly but surely, I'm getting a leg up out here on the coast.

Remember that song, "I'm in love with my car"? I know she isn't anything special, but I got the feels. I smile at her every time I open the door and see her parked outside. She's slowly coming together. We finally found a tail light harness to fix the blinker, wasn't exactly the right one, but with some creative cutting and a bit of silicone we made it work. We found the perfect sized stick to hold the back hatch open, and the driver side window rolls up and down, with a little help. 

Next spring I'd like to do something about the peeling paint. And the falling ceiling fabric. I was thinking some sanding and spray bombs would be kosher for the roof and the hood, and perhaps 'hippiefy' her a little on the inside by making some sort of patchwork fabric ensemble to fix the ceiling. That's the beauty of paying next to nothing for a vehicle for me, I'm not afraid to customize or attempt to fix it on my own.

*Sigh*. So incredibly stoked to have wheels. Going fishing, shopping, this past week I had to empty out my storage locker.. and I didn't have to call anyone for vehicular assistance. Amazing. This weekend we'll be taking her a little bit further.. Sunday we're going to church. Out to the mountains, to the river to fish. The adventure continues..

two year Vaniversary

Two years. Honestly, I didn't foresee myself still being here by now.. I'm not one to stay anywhere long. It's definitely been anything but boring. When I arrived here off the greyhound bus, I didn't really have much of a plan. I stayed with a good friend from back home, wandered around the city, and took off to the island to visit for a while. At that point I had no idea what I was doing or where I'd end up.

A lot of people move here from the east. A lot. Not many end up staying though.. at least of those I've known. It can be difficult to make a life for yourself if you don't really know anyone, or have any sort of resources lined up before you arrive. I was very lucky to have a place to crash right away, and every step from there has been a challenge and a blessing.

The first job i picked up quickly, I was pretty much hired the day I applied. I worked in one of Canada's biggest grocery warehouses receiving enormous trailer loads of fresh food orders. Graveyard shift. It used to be my favourite hours to work, but my internal clock no longer agrees. I worked through fall and winter, lived in an international hostel all the while, until I had to get on a bus back east to deal with the bit of mess I left behind.

The bus i'd taken back nearly rolled off a mountain pass in a snowstorm, and you better believe my whole life up until that moment flashed before my eyes. I'd decided then that my westward journey was not about to be over. Go take care of everything I'd set out to, and return as soon as I could. The average temperature was minus 20 degrees celsius the whole time I was in Ontario. It reminded my quickly what I wasn't stoked on about the climate back home.

As I was on my way back west I received a text saying a room had opened up in the slanty shanty. I was pretty stoked. As soon as I arrived I parked my luggage in my new room and started seeking out another job. Within minutes of applying online I was hired as a merchandiser for a hardware store. I told them right away no Wednesdays for me, I've got some gardening to do.

I kept it up until I found other outdoor work. By the end of summer I was rocking two landscaping jobs [with some pretty sweet views] and enjoying the slanty shanty home base. There was plenty of front porch chillin and days of cribbage to be played. Autumn came quick and so did the rain. Halloween night, the heavy rain washed away what was left of the shingles over my bedroom. I had to leave [and find a way to dry all my things out] immediately. With few options, a line of credit and a friend in a similar situation, I threw down on a pickup truck. The road became our home.

Winter was adventure time. I got to know the lower mainland and the mountains and valleys beyond from the passenger seat. The backroads map book became my friend. We found mud and snow and mountains to ascend and plenty of places to camp. One spot in particular became our mountain base camp. After several consecutive weeks of returning we had built furniture, a tipi to keep the firewood dry, and cleaned up the surrounding area. Once spring came and my employment insurance ran out, I moved back to town with my tent to get back to working full time, and left the truck to my friend. He built up the camp further and took care of it so there was always that place to go back to. Definately one of my favourite spots, and one of the few places on this end of the country that I felt I could call 'home'.

Shortly thereafter I was taken in by an Angel, and was granted some floor space to use during the work week. I still make use of that space [and enjoy her company] a couple nights a week, couch hop, and log plenty of hours at my partner's family trailer home renovating for the rest. Needless to say, I keep busy.

Regardless of the scenery, I do believe there's no way I would have stuck it out if it wasn't for all the people I'd met along the way. There's so many to be thankful for.. The two lovely ladies that I work with half the week, my crazy and amazing friends from the streets, the fella I hit the road with [and his sweet, beautiful dog], my rad as f*ck partner in crime, all the homies that come and go, and of course my good friend and brother that convinced me to come back out here in the first place. Let's not forget all my friends and fams back home looking out for me, and encouraging me not to give up.. for all and all of you, I am blessed. I wouldn't be who I am, or where I am without you.

Two years down, many lessons learned, and many more to go I'm sure.
Thanks for reading. And thanks for the company.