Switch

 I think it's safe to say that this year has been an Awakening in some form or another for many of us. For myself, experiencing a Health crisis amidst a pandemic certainly left me shook. Back in 2014 I was in the best health of my life. I promised myself then that I would never let myself fall into a state of dis-ease ever again. And here I am 6 years later, awash in a disarray of medical mystery. 

It took years of hard work and dedication to reclaim my health in my late twenties. Having diminished that almost completely by my mid-30s has left me mourning the loss of something that meant everything to me. Freedom from unnecessary daily suffering. I struggled my entire life with some autoimmune disorder or another, and for the most part I'd finally had them under control. I had found the will and desire to put in the effort to take the best care of myself that I could. I had shelter, a kitchen and a garden. I had learned to make do and thrive in an environment that was once killing me.

Then something happened. Well a bunch of things happened, a sudden change in my state of mind, my environment and my intention. I held onto the self care habits for as long as I could despite my situation, but somewhere along the way I lost the most important thing. My peace of mind.

I catch myself forgetting to breathe sometimes. Anxiety, guilt, depression.. internal things. Feelings I haven't dealt with following a series of traumas. And instead of addressing them, I've buried them in busi-ness and obsessive, damaging behaviours. I've been exporting my efforts into rearing animals and keeping gardens, yet failing to allow myself to fully benefit from the positive environment I'm attempting to create for myself. From the outside looking in, it appears that I should be healthy, but I'm not. I'm sick, and tired, and often and a great deal of pain.

I find myself mindlessly going through the motions of the day. Perhaps I have been stuck on autopilot more than I realized. I find that being more mindful in my actions and more specific in my intentions alleviates anxiety, but I have been forgetting to do this... I feel like I've spent this entire year just waiting for something. All the medical testing, sudden flare ups and fear of the unknown has me stuck in this vicious cycle of distracted inaction.

I'm taking a moment to recognize this, and to write it out as a reminder, and to share it for the sake of accountability. I owe myself better than my current experience. I deserve to enjoy the life that I have built up for myself without being stuck in the clutches of discomfort caused by a myriad of probably preventable health issues that could be avoided by diverting all of this stress. I need to flip the switch.


It's time to do better.

2020- going viral.

Friday morning I went to my secret little grocery store next to one of our job sites in the city. Up until now in this hysteria, nobody really knew about it unless they lived close by. I wanted to stock up on produce for the weekend for my juice feast, and the store was packed for 10 in the morning. Usually it's pretty quiet on my break.

There was barely 6 packs of toilet paper left, no water, very little canned food, almost no rice... it's setting in. The lineups were running back around the store to cash out. I was able to grab all of the produce I went in for... given the utter chaos, this surprised me.

I understand the CDC recommending people always have a month's worth of food on hand in case of things like this, natural disasters that close roads, weather events that close stores etc. I get that. Especially living out here, which is why we're always as stocked as can be. Our reserves saved us this winter when we were stuck at home during storms, and short on cash not having worked our regular hours. Life would have been hungry without it.

It's easy to do without waiting till shit hits the fan and having to join the masses in the panic buying insanity. Buy a couple extra things when you shop. If it's an item you use regularly and it's on sale, buy two. That sort of thing. Keep your cupboards full and wash your hands, and you'll more than likely survive the winter. Our reserves are a little short coming out of the slow season, but I don't have the money right now to fill a cart with dry goods, and my health right now depends on the fresh stuff.

I'm standing there in line with my hand basket full of produce, and the people with overflowing carts of everything under the sun are looking at me like I'm crazy. I was just grateful that no one had clued in yet to buy any fresh fruits and vegetables. I felt almost foolish stocking up for my weekend of juicing.

I wonder how far this will go, how crazy people will get before this is over. I wonder if in the next few days it'll calm down, or if the hysteria will ramp up tenfold as the government steps in to make us all stay home. I wonder if people going into panic mode will end us before any virus does. I wonder if this will change our generation.

Don't get me wrong, of course the virus concerns me. I have a compromised immune system, and my lungs are already damaged from years of abuse. I'm worried for the majority of my neighbours here that are well onto the most vulnerable age bracket. I'm concerned for my folks and older relatives back home. I'm worried that if it gets any worse, it'll affect our community economically, negatively impacting small local businesses and farmers.

We are doing our part by not going places we don't need to. Social distancing isn't really a problem for us, we're the type of people to keep to ourselves. Given people's behaviour the past week, I'm not enthusiastic about exposing myself to the madness. I have no problem with staying home. Gardening isn't cancelled. Speaking of which..

We're getting started out in the yard. Now that we know we'll be here for at least another season, we can start thinking about what to plant. We had considered putting the farm camp build on hold so that I can focus on regaining my health. The current situation has us thinking it will be in our best interest to proceed. It'll be a delicate balance of energy, and we have to remember to pace ourselves.

Things are changing quickly, and now with a global pandemic in the mix, 2020 is bound to be interesting.

Taking Back Time.

I'm having a hard time with something, I always have. And I know I'm not the only one. I'm just gonna come right out and say it- 40 hour work weeks are bullshit. When we were indie contractors, we basically made our own schedule. We would work when the materials/ stages were ready, and if we finished earlier we'd leave early, still getting the flat rate that we had billed for the job. Our jobs were completed efficiently and on time, and we still had time for our lives. Every once in a while we'd have to do long days to get a project finished, but for the most part, worked on average 30 hours a week. Unfortunately as indie contractors, the work wasn't always guaranteed, so we decided to seek out a company to hire us as a team. 

When we were hired by this company, we did our first week like 'normal' workers. We tried the 8-8.5 hour work days, plus the drive, plus our home and farm chores. The company had a sample of our work ethic, and we had a taste of 40 hour weeks on top of our busy half way homesteading life. Then we had our official 'on the books' hiring meeting. We explained how we love the work, take pride in our work, but can't fit a 40 hour work week plus commute into our lifestyle. Much to our surprise, they were more than willing to work with us, given the quality of work we provide.

It's been over a year. We have it worked out to have every other Friday off. We work 7 hour days, and a four hour day evey other Friday. We're paid biweekly, so we'd work a half day, get our checks, do our banking, groceries and errands with the rest of our 'shift'. 28 and 32 averages to 30 hour weeks, or 60 hour pays. Because of tax brackets and whatnot, we only make roughly 60-80 less a week missing those 10 hours. Let that sink in for a minute..

When we worked 40 hour weeks, we were making 600 more a month combined. But! We had 40 hours *less* time a month. Divide that up, that's only an 'additional' 15 bucks an hour... COMBINED. that means those 'extra' 10 hours a week, we were only taking home an extra $7.50 an hour each because working more hours meant we were making more money- and thus had more deductions taken. Plus we save on fuel and miscellaneous spending that happens when we go to work. After all said and done, we're basically giving those extra 10 hours a week away for free. Going to work every day costs time *and* money.

And to what advantage? The company doesn't get any more or better quality work out of me. In fact, longer days means I'm more exhausted the next day and production slows down. It's an observable fact that we as 30 hour a week workers get more done than the "full timers". The company benefits by getting the same or more and better quality work without having to pay for more hours. We get more hours a week to live our lives. Win, win.

There's 168 hours in a week. I spend roughly 50 hours a week sleeping or resting, that leaves 118. My 30 hours working, so 88 left. 13 hours average commuting takes us down to 75. 30 hours a week on farm chores, 25 left.. so if we were working 40 hour weeks, we would have 15 hours a WEEK of idle time. That's it. That's for extra projects, reading, shopping for stuff we need, volunteering, going for a walk, spending quality time together and with our animals, friends and family, leisure activities.. life outside of work. Real, life.

No....

No. That's not enough. This is our life we're talking about here, and we should really consider living life before we're too old to do anything about it..


I understand that it's my choice to have 30 hours a week of farm chores, gardening, working at home. But some people work two jobs to get that food, or to be able to afford various lifestyle choices. I choose to grow my food, and live this life. That's the kind of 'work' I'd rather do to keep myself fed. I'm not at all saying that my way is the right way, and everyone should work less so they can stay home and grow food. I realize that's not possible for everyone. What I'm saying is, I feel that we truly undervalue our time on this earth. And not just monetarily. Our hourly wages, is that really all we're worth?

Someone, somewhere at some point in time set this standard of living that many of us in this current societal structure have adhered to. I think it's about time that we reevaluate these standards as individuals. What do we really need in our lives? What are we paying money (and thus time) for that really doesn't benefit us? Is there some way we can shift our energy to be put into something more self-fulfilling instead of selling the best of ourselves to someone else and not getting an appropriate return? What can I do or create that I can use myself or sell/ barter/ trade for what I do need?

This is just the beginning for me. As my lifestyle shifts to one more rooted in nature, I am exploring more opportunities to be self-sufficient. I am working to shift to a more home-based means of accumulating income, and less of a need for one. When I envision 'retirement', I'm not old, leaving a company I've given my best years to, settling down and waiting to die. For me, retiring will be when my own life and how I live it provides enough abundance to no longer need to hit a punch clock on someone else's dream. The following 'meme' is basically a summation of what I'm getting at..

"My goal is to build a life
I don't need a vacation from"

That is essentially it. No one is saying anything about not having to work. A productive life will always require work. My goal is to get to a point where I only have to attend a "regular day job" enough to cover basic bills, and have the time I need to build, grow, seek and trade for the things I need myself. Put the effort, and time and hard work into my life, the land on which I live, and my community. For now, it is what it is. Slowly buy truly, we're taking back our time.

Home and back- and a Health Crisis

It's been a crazy year. More big changes and intense happenings than I can count. I haven't been writing, and it bothers me. I suppose a part of the problem is I never know where to begin. Another being it's often hard to find the right words. And time management, and anxiety, and the list goes on. I'm taken aback but how quickly this year has passed. Time needs to slow down for just a minute.

I flew home on the 13th of September, Friday... A full moon. The entire Journey from take off- flight- and arrival, to departure and every moment in between was so critical in a shift that needed to happen within for me to find peace. Every person I got the chance to connect with reminded me exactly why I'm here and what I need to do to continue my journey. Thank you for that. So here's where I'm at...

It's no mystery that I've been struggling with my health. For those of you who have known me for a number of years probably remember the incredible health transformation I had made in my final years in Ontario. I was having next to no autoimmune flare ups, and I lost all the weight. All. Every unnecessary pound. I actually felt great most of the time, even my Endo was giving me a break. I blogged about it. I did well. I didn't eat a single crumb of bread. I made a green juice everyday, and after a year or so actually enjoyed them.

And then came a series of unfortunate happenings. Some really incredible ones too, but I experienced some dark times. I fell back onto old eating patterns because cheap (or free) available foods that kept well was all I could manage for a while. I was in a rough place financially, had just uprooted to a far off province, and of course.. lost my mother. Soon after uprooting, the house that I was staying in had a major mold problem (triggering my autoimmune shit) making me sick and homeless at the start of winter. The house was soon after condemned.

The intense spiral continued and I found myself under constant stress and frequent moments of anxiety. My body responded as it does. Sickness, inflammation and weight gain. I thought I had found my out when I found the little house in the country. After two years of not having a place to call home, I thought I'd struck gold. And I did in many ways. The community is amazing, and I couldn't have asked for better neighbours. And did I mention that million dollar view? At least a thousand times by now..

Unfortunately, the stress did not subside. Moving to the country in the middle of a harsh winter and not knowing anyone was a gamble. Still freshly self employed, every day of snow meant jobsite shutdown which meant no money. It snowed and snowed. The anxiety rocked me. Then not three months in to our tenancy in the little farm house, the landlord started with his threats. He had a problem with every little thing we did. This trend continued over the almost three years we lived there. Not being able to afford anything else (and loving everything about being there besides the owner), we decided to stick it out. Between his ignorance and constant use of poisons (without notice as he's supposed to before spraying), my stress levels and associated illness ran rampant.

But I was in denial. How could we find such a seemingly perfect place to be and yet have so many problems? It's a thing. I woke up every day for months with intense gut aches. It became my new normal. I continued with my challenge to find health. I started jogging in the evenings after work, I bought a juicer, I went to bed early. It seemed like I'd get somewhere for a little while, and then the struggle would intensify. I lost my energy. The daily aches and chronic fatigue caught up with me. I drowned it all out with distractions like farming and animals and volunteering for our local market.

This past summer I hit my Tipping Point. The truck had major problems. It cost a bunch of money to fix, but still not enough for it to be worth it to sell her. Having to take out a loan meant I would be getting short paychecks for a while, missing a few days lost me enough money that everything I had saved to fly home I had spent, and my folks ended up buying me the tickets to fly home. I was grateful for the wonderful gift, but at the same time horrendously anxious about leaving the farm and my job for that length of time with literally no money to spare.

It was almost a month to the day before I was supposed to fly to Ontario, when my landlord decided that evicting me was the best course of action for something we disagreed on. I was given 30 days notice, the day I was to vacate the premises was the day I was to land in Ontario. That was it. That was the straw that broke me. I was overwhelmed with sickness from the stress of the situation. I was absolutely devastated. On top of that, not three days later our Back-up Plan fell through and our friend was also evicted from the 5-acre property we had been slowly moving our farm to. By that point I was already in shock, and there wasn't much that would surprise me.

Going home was my saving grace. It couldn't have happened at a better time. My spirits have been uplifted. Spending time with my family was a good start in the healing process. Though I wasn't fully aware of what lied ahead in my journey to health, I'm 111% sure that I wouldn't have found the same kind of motivation elsewhere. I'm still tired. Everything still hurts. But you all reminded me that I will make it. That this journey is just another of my crazy adventures, and I'll figure it out. That under the pain and sickness, I'm still me.. Sadie Sea.

Stay tuned...

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

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.

Getting the goats

Saturday was an interesting day for me. It was my first Farmer's Market, and immediately after, I drove to the city to pick up our goats. It was a hot summer day in May, and everything went well I'd say.

I was a little nervous at first about getting goats. I've never even owned a dog before, though I've lived with and cared for many. It just seemed so hard to fathom that I'd be housing and caring for two somewhat large, intelligent non-human beings. I questioned whether I was ready for goats. I was concerned that I might not do it right, or they'd be uncomfortable or unhappy with what we have to offer. I was worried they'd take forever to train, and get used to us.

I was worried and nervous and concerned for nothing.

Day one was a little hectic at first.. getting them into the halters was a bit of an ordeal. Getting into the van was.. interesting to say the least. But once they were in the van, it was smooth sailing. All I could think was, 'I can't believe I have two hooved animals in my van'. They were pretty content.

Once we got them into their pen area, they did their best to evade us. In their previous home, they were more or less free roaming with very little human interaction for a good portion of their lives. I was sure it would take us weeks to get them used us, and maybe months to get them halter trained. I was so very wrong.

We hung out in their pen with them for a while. After half an hour, Zorro started to warm up to me. We figured we may as well start right away with their halter training. It took us a couple tries cornering them in the barn to get the halters on and leads attached, but once they figured out that halters on meant the gate would open, their attitudes changed.

The next step was to get them to understand the concept of walking on a lead. As I said before, they were mostly free roaming.. and their previous owners couldn't recall if they had ever even been haltered at two years old. The first twenty minutes was not promising. As soon as we led them to the sea of bramble, they realized that halters also meant free to eat to their heart's content. It was pretty smooth sailing from there!

...


It's now been two weeks since we brought them home. At first I couldn't imagine having them here. Now I don't know how I lived without them! They're our pets, our friends, and part of the family. We are learning their individual personality traits, and how they interact with one another and with people.

They're becoming more used to visitors and vehicles driving by. They LOVE being walked, they now trot proudly down the road knowing someone will slow down to give them attention.

Having them here with us has been more than a joy, and in a sense, therapeutic. In fact, I haven't had time to write about how much I love having the goats because I've been too busy enjoying their company, brushing them, walking them, feeding them the garden scraps and watching them play.

We decided since we got them that they needed a social media profile to be the stars of, so we created a Facebook page, Instagram, and even a Twitter for Sandy Shores Farm... between them and the bunnies, you can find your daily dose of cuteness at any one of those pages! Oh and you know, a little gardening too ;)


Xo

journalog 1-7-18

It's quiet out here. Well, sort of... It became quite loud all of a sudden yesterday, and just as quickly it was done. The several inch thick layer of ice on the roof let go in an instant- weighed down with snow and then rain. When it crashed onto the awning separating it from the house, it sounded like we were run over by an avalanche.

We got up at first light today to venture over to the other farm. Our land owner had a stash of materials we could use to repair the awning, the only challenge was getting to it. He ran the tractor to dig out a path to the barn, and we loaded Delilah's roof racks with lumber while taking in the view. The warmer temperatures and slight breeze brought in a fog that made our mountain backdrop disappear in sweeping brushstrokes.

The awning adventure and getting a fire going was our excitement for the day. Cabin fever is a thing, and we're getting a little restless. We're going on our tenth week without steady work. Putting around the property when the weather allows to keep ourselves busy. We seek out downed branches we can buck up for the woodpile, and make our way out to the general store every few days to keep up on the social and make sure the van runs.

It's been a challenge to be at total peace with our situation. If we were truly remote, off the grid and not so reliant on finances, we'd be much more comfortable with what we have. The fact that we have to pay for the space that we occupy monthly is the part we're having troubles with. We've managed to find odd cash opportunities here and there to get a few bills paid, but it's been tight.

I'm glad that we stored up as much as we did for the winter. Every trip to town we made through the summer I chose an essential to buy in bulk. We've used a decent percentage of our food stores though, and we're edging on 'uncomfortably low'. We're getting into our last can of coffee, jar of honey and bag of sugar. The frozen fruit stores are well below half, and we've made a sizeable dent in our veggies. Our cupboards are fairly light, though we do still have a decent amount of rice and flour. Three weeks from now, we'll be setting into 'desperately low'. It's essential that we get steady work soon. Garden season is still a couple months away.

Hibernating hasn't been a total bummer though. I couldn't have imagined a better place to be holed up in for the winter. Something tells me I wouldn't be as settled being so long without work if I were living in the city. I know this from experience. After one week without a job I lose it- city living is costly on the daily and it's hard to avoid.

Out here the shift in priorities makes not having steady work much more bearable, even enjoyable at times. There's so much to do to maintain the cabin and the property- especially in storm season.. it's enough just to make it through the day without a panic attack. When you're more concerned with staying warm and making sure your home isn't destroyed by the weather, having a couple bills a few months overdue doesn't seem so pressing. There's no real worry to get anywhere on time if you can't get anywhere at all.

Also the view ain't half bad. We find enjoyment and satisfaction in the beautiful simplicity of country living. We could sit for hours watching the fireplace, and bundling up to go for a walk down our road is a scenic nature tour. Watching the eagles by day and listening for owls at night is a delightful blessing. Maintaining the house is more than just chores, it's fulfilling and satisfying that we are free to enjoy our own space as we choose.

I feel very fortunate to be here. There are far more challenging places I could be while broke in the middle of winter, like tenting in the woods. We may not have access to some basic luxuries, and it may get a little uncomfortable at times, but as Erik Salitan says, "excessive comfort is detrimental to one's character". There is always peace to be found amidst the chaos. There's always so much to be grateful for that it outshines the not-so-glamorous aspects of living a transient sort of lifestyle.

I anticipate getting real busy real soon with work in the field and in the garden, so I'm doing my best to savour the downtime. I've made one of my goals for the year to be better organized in my writing and little photography projects so my ideas and images don't get buried forever. As always, thanks to everyone reading this, for always sending words of encouragement and support. And a HUGE thank you to everyone who contributed near and far by ordering smelly things from my website, and sending us Timmies bucks and lunch cards. Your generosity and thoughtfulness truly warmed us! All the love.

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

December already..

11 months now I've had this lovely little house to call home... and I'm stressing every day trying to rustle up enough dough to keep it going. This time last year we had more work than we did time, and now we've been searching for weeks to pick up new contracts with no luck.

Don't get me wrong, I love having time off from work, it just came a little unexpectedly and we weren't financially ready. I'm so thankful that we invested in a big chest freezer to keep our summer garden goodies in, our produce stash along with a giant bag of rice has kept us going. We Also stocked up on flour and various other baking ingredients, so if we can't scrounge enough money for fuel to get to town, at least we have a somewhat full pantry for a while.

The bit of extra time just happened to coincide with the eagles returning to the valley. And an ankle sprain.. So the past couple weeks I've been slowly rolling up and down my road with my hazards on, a foot on the brake and a lens to my face with the driver's door open. Anywhere else but here you'd def get looks for that, but I live on a dead end road out in the country. And right now, it's eagle country. There's plenty of people rolling around with cameras pulling over at random to get the shot.

Unfortunately, a storm took out our greenhouse a couple weeks ago. This on top of the sprain and being out of work really got me down. We ended up having our first frost the other day, which means the crops that were inside the greenhouse are pretty much toast. I've decided to keep a little green in my life this winter by adopting some houseplants. I even found a perfect mini lemon cypress to stand in as our Christmas tree. It's so cute!

So in summation, lots of ups and downs this season. My ankle is starting to heal, so I'm doing my best to get back on my daily ten thousand steps. I'm hopeful that work will pick back up again soon, and our home will be saved for the winter.

As always, thanks to all my amazing friends, fams and fans that have kept in touch and kept my spirits up. It gets a little lonely out here at times, but man is it lovely. If I don't write again before then, I wish you all a merry ho ho.. and bring on 2018!


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

Vagabond-ish.

Once a vagabond, always a vagabond. In mind and in spirit, and occasionally in body too. Though I've had a pretty solid home base for 8 months, it's hard not to feel like a squatter. I am, after all, on someone else's farmland. My partner and I both feel this way. You just never know where life will take us, where we may have to move to find work, or what might happen to this ever-changing landscape. We have planted seeds and established roots here, and have even planned our layout for next year's crops. But that doesn't mean we aren't ready to move on if we have to.

The nature of our work keeps us on the road most days. We usually make it home to sleep, but keep a bit of camping gear in the van just in case. And we always have a tote of food and water, a portable kitchen, and a change of clothes too. What a change from living out of a rucksack. I can carry a lot more things. I try my best to keep it minimal. Last summer I would drag my rucksack with me to work, if I didn't have time to make it to my storage locker in the morning. I'd be the one getting changed and brushing my teeth in the staff bathroom.

People get a kick out of us at lunch time when we bring out the stove top to cook. We have been asked on more than one occasion if we just live in our van, a question to which we never really have a straight answer. Last winter before we'd found this place, we had organized ourselves in such a way that we would essentially be camping at our jobsites. We were prepared to use the resources we had access to such as the electricity to keep us warm and charge our wares, and on some more remote sites using scrap lumber to build a fire. Every town has a laundromat, every gas station has a washroom we could use to get clean.

As ready as we were, I'm glad we found our little farm house in the valley. It's our piece of paradise. We fit in well here, and quite enjoy the country life. If we do decide to move on, I refuse to do so unless we find something just like what we have, only better. Garden space, a river out front, mountain views, and we're allowed to have our smoker and fire pit too.. we're kind of spoiled. A home base that satiates our vagabond-ish needs. It's kind of like camping, with a roof and power and ruining water.

Winter is making it's way back again as quickly as it left, and we are preparing. Totes need stocking with food and water, firewood needs collecting, and seeds need to be stored. We must look into purchasing some warmer wares and repairing what we have. The generator is good to go. The garden is winding down, the freezer is almost full.

Wherever I am, I am home.

Whether it's here in this farmhouse in the valley, or on a patch of gravel in my van down by the river, no matter where I find myself, I am home.

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.

Just when you think it's alright...

Suddenly, it isn't. I mean it's not the end of the world or anything, it just feels like it in this moment. I suppose it's a good thing I have a hard time getting comfortable in life situations, because in a moment (especially when you least expect it), everything can change.

Sometimes my anxiety gets the best of me, but sometimes it saves my ass. It's too soon to tell which way things will go, but I'm doing what I can right now to be ready for anything.

As I was saying the last time I wrote, this past year has been one of the best in my life. I've made so much progress on a personal level, overcoming my fear of driving, building on a career learning a new trade, and finally establishing a real home base. Having a partner at my side through it all that doesn't give up is a real plus. It all seemed 'too good to be true'. Maybe I was right.

But maybe it's just a bump in the road. Maybe we'll get it all sorted out. Maybe we can find work in time before we lose out on our place. The feeling of potential imminent loss has made me realize how much I truly do appreciate where I've gotten. But isn't that always how it goes.

...

We took a chance venturing out on our own as subcontractors in a trade that's greatly sought after. We had so much work, we hadn't taken a weekend in months. We were exhausted, but finally getting to a point where we could get ahead. A couple more weeks of plugging away, and we'd afford our vacation.

When we showed up for work a couple days ago, there was no material on site. When it finally arrived, so did a cheaper, inexperienced crew to install it. Which was all fine and good, as we were about to jump ship for another company that offered us full time work and an array of new tools. As we'd prepared to do so, we learned that it's not an option until spring.

So here we sit, broke and confused. What just happened? How did we go from too much work to no work at all? Is this because I asked for a day off?! Be careful what you wish for, I suppose.

...

With little else to do but think, we chose not to. We took to the lakes and rivers to calm our minds. We paced the garden picking produce from the vines. This morning I spent making calls out for potential work, with no leads as of yet. And now I sit here folding laundry, catching up on chores around the house we've been too busy working to get around to, wondering what the hell we're gonna do to keep it all. Or what the next step might be if we can't.

I'm prepared for the possibility that I could end up on this journey on my own, once again. But I'm hopeful that won't be the case. Flying solo has its advantages, but happiness is so much better when it's shared. Struggles are a little easier too. Just in case, my anxious mind is listing what to do if everything falls through.

Looking around the house, I'm taking inventory of all the things I need to keep, stuff we can get rid of, and what all could go to storage if need be. Preparing myself to once again be mobile, living in my van. Mapping out the towns that might be best to bum around in.

...


It's been a long day. I ended up at the beach, in the quiet. No sound but the waves of the approaching tide. The sun is setting and the heat of the day finally wanes. I'm thankful for these places I can tuck myself away. I'm glad that despite my ever changing situation I can find peace in the chaos. I'm grateful for all that I have, if only for today.


x

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. 

Talk of the [tiny] town.

I suppose it's hard not to be noticed when you're the new kids in a small town, especially when the overall population is only a free hundred people. People tend to be more neighborly, everyone waves as they pass on the road. Our epic transformation of the land we live on has drawn a lot of attention.

Though we live on a dead end road, there are several people that travel along it each day to watch the birds, or pick up hay and firewood from the farms at the end of the lane. Since we started digging, passers by have been slowing down to see what we are up to. We are now known as 'the gardeners'.

Last week a local cyclist, a retired officer, stopped by to chat while we were working the composted manure into our main veggie beds. He asked us how we like living out here, and commented on how we were blessed to have a 'million dollar view'. We talked about gardening and fishing, and how the small town vibes are much more inviting than living in the city. He was happy to see us out there working the land, and said he'd stop by later in the season to see how we're doing.


...

Ten days later, our beds are already sprouting. The landlord noticed our methods (and that they're working) and asked us to help poly a 'small' test patch on his huge farm. He was so impressed by what we could do with our little plot that he had his whole family stop by to take a look.

Even the people at the trading post have taken interest in our gardens, and we've lined up future trades. Our gardens will produce more fresh veggies than we can handle and preserve, so the overstock will be traded for farm eggs and honey. That means come late spring or early summer, ninety percent of our food intake will be from ten feet to a mile away from our home. If that's not eating local, I don't know what is!

Hopefully we will have some fish to add to the freezer too, fresh from the river. Fellow anglers in the area know our vehichle, and stop by to chat when we drive out to our spots. Though we've only been here a few months, this little town has become our home. And I love it!

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.