Epic fails, minor successes and a new mindset.

We're in!  We're exhausted, bruised, bloodied, scraped, bitten and aching, but we're in.

The move went well thanks to the help of friends.  We were well organized but lacked the sheer muscle to load the heavy stuff.  I'm afraid I let the team down here.  I'll willingly lift, stack and carry but, as Ian laments, I'm "as weak as water".  Thankfully we had some local muscle to call on.  A massive thank you to Travis, a parent from Jessica's school who amazingly booked time off work to help us.  We also took advantage of Juliet, our long suffering friend and Realtor, who had the good sense to marry a Rugby player and spawn Rugby playing offspring; thanks Lee and Liam.  No lack of strength in that household!  We're also eternally grateful to Jenessa, Kyla and Shenade for looking after our kids and feeding us.

Within a week of living on Farmageddon, my life & priorities have began to change.  I haven't worn a scrap of make-up, I've barely left the farm, Ian had to ask me politely to shave my legs yesterday and my daily hair wash habit has reduced.  At the moment all of this is due to time, we've been working all hours to get things done and it's sometimes easier to stay dirty.  I am hoping that I am not really turning into a Eco hippy recluse and that my hygiene will improve with time, but who knows?  I've been too exhausted to care about such trivial matters.  I've also been drinking cider out of an jam jar...how very hillbilly of me.  I hope this is not gateway behaviour; cider today, moonshine tomorrow.

Ian has been in his element building the chicken coop (Chickingham Palace) and setting out plans for the tree house.  His smile ratio has dramatically increased.  Ian is a Superintendent for a Construction company but a Joiner by trade.  Constructing something out of nothing is his art and it's been fascinating to observe.  The chicken coop is almost the same size as our house and will be there long after we have gone.  I have assumed the role of a kind of Magician's Assistant during this process; painting, moving, lifting, etc. and listening to everyone accredit the Magician for his awesomeness, it's ok though, I'll let him have that one. ;-)

Lauren is having more fun than she cares to admit.  What I mean by that is she doesn't really know how to enjoy it and maintain the necessary street credibility.  She has had a crash course (no pun intended) in tractor driving and is responsible for mowing, a job which she loves.  However, she still has 'city' friends and these thing don't fit with the accepted image.  I think this will change though as she becomes more comfortable with the lifestyle and when she starts school.  She'll make friends from a more rural community where tractors are the norm.  It's tough to be 13.

Jessica is.....I can't think of a word that really encapsulates her excitement and joy.  This place is a 5 year old child's dream.  The first time we were here, she behaved like a zoo animal that had just been released from captivity.  When we saw a snake next to the house, I said we had to move house immediately whilst she looked on in awe and declared her love for for this beautiful creature.  When she's not running through the long grass or chasing dragonflies, she's hanging out in the chicken coop and kissing the chicks heads.

Talking of the chickens, I'm chalking this one up as a success.  They have been here 5 days and are still alive!  I collected them, aged 8 1/2 weeks, from the hatchery last week.  They are truly lovely Caramel Queen hens.  The had a temporary home in our barn during the day and in the house at night but have officially moved into their permanent home now.  I'm really enjoying them and watching their little personalities emerge.  They've been given very regal names, Elizabeth, Victoria and Anne (the rowdy one).  Very fitting for residents of Chickingham Palace. Today I have called the hatchery to ask for three more.
 

Chickingham Palace itself is another success for our reduce, reuse, recycle ethos.  Ian purchased $16,000 worth of timber that had been sitting unused for years in a construction yard for just $500.  The doors and windows were purchased from a reclamation yard for $100. The mesh is actually a hard wearing material normally nailed down to bridges to stops you slipping, this was acquired from a construction site too.  We only used a fraction of the timber, the rest will go towards the tree house and, in time, a new house for us.

And so to our failings.  We've budgeted every dollar and cent for this move.  We really made sacrifices in the run up to the move, including a short time where we dangled  precariously off our own fiscal cliff.  We knew this would happen, there was a period of one-off payments to be made, like tractor deposits, and therefore a void between money in and money out.  Anyway, the plan was to spend no money on non-essentials for this house.  We bowled into this with our 'make-do' attitude only to fall at the first hurdle.  The metaphoric hurdle is the kitchen.  By then end of the first day I had announced my inability to cope.  I hadn't even unpacked one box and the cupboards were full.  One kitchen wall was occupied by a huge top-loading washing machine and tumble dryer.  I expected my protests to be met with cries of "suck it up",  but it seemed everyone was struggling with the teeny-weeny kitchen.  The next day Ian went and bought kitchen cupboards and relocated the washer and dryer into the back room.  The cupboards have made such a difference, but cost us $1100 (including plumbing supplies for the washing machine, etc).  We have made a cut back though as a gesture to 'making do', we didn't buy doors.  There is just the skeleton of the cupboards, but actually I like it.  I can see everything.  I don't think we're going to bother with the doors ever.

Just one more failing to mention, it took us 4 days to find this switch for this delightful light fixture:

Other than that, we're doing ok and I'm proud of us.  We're dealing with four of us sharing one tiny bathroom.  We're making do with the lack of storage space (at least for the moment when the weather is dry and boxes can sit outside).  We're excelling at tractor driving and chicken care!  We're seeing snakes and bugs that I've never seen before and we're taking it in our stride.  We're learning to think about the ground water and well management.  I guess we're starting to live with the land.  And the icing on the cake is that everyday I have to remind myself that I'm not on holiday, I get to live here, in this beautiful, tranquil, serene place.  I get to continue to live in harmony with the land, I get to watch it evolve as we make subtle changes in order to become self sufficient.  We get to look after the land as it looks after us.


We're jammin'

The big move is next Wednesday!!!!!!!  I hope you can gauge my anxiety by the excessive use of exclamation marks.  Actually, we're in pretty good shape as moving day approaches.  Everything except for beds and kitchen essentials is packed in a mountain of boxes.  It makes me feel both sad and liberated that our worldly possessions now fit into our garage.  It's strange to think that next time I write a blog post (hopefully a week on Friday), I will be a Farmer with my very own tractor and chickens.  It's amazing how quickly a transformation can happen.

Talking of transformation, I've just signed up for another workshop.  In keeping with my new lifestyle, I've registered for a Food Preservation Workshop.  That's right, cannin' and jammin'.  I'm thinking of taking my 13 year old daughter, Lauren, but I'm too afraid of her teenage mood swings to tell her yet.  I might post it on her Facebook page or Tweet her or something.  When I called to sign up this morning, I was told I need to bring "an apron, cutting board and a paring knife".  This evoked another "Oh f#*k" moment.  I don't own an apron, I do have a cutting board but it's marble and weighs about 1000 lbs and I had to Google paring knife.  Should go really well.


It's interesting though, when I talk about my newly acquired skills from various obscure workshops, it's met with mixed reaction.  My friends, the ones who know me really well, display reactions on a sliding scale...from smirk to uncontrollable outburst of hilarity. But others are excited, this lifestyle change doesn't appear to be as ludicrous as I feel when I talk about it.  There is a real change of attitudes out there.  The people who attend the same obscure workshops as me aren't what I thought (with the exception of well maintenance seminar where we were the youngest by 3 decades).  There's a real movement of late Generation Xer's and Y's out there recognizing the need for change.  The general feeling is that we need to preserve old fashioned skills and be equipped to provide for ourselves.  Of course, this group is peppered with some crazy.  I have listened to theories about the Zombie Apocalypse!  Oh well, whatever the future holds for humanity, I'll be ready with my excess jars of jam and canned tomatoes.  See you at my place!




The learning curve

As with any major life event, this move is an emotional one.  I've realised that my last post was a little anxiety-ridden.  Ian says I was unfairly hard on us and that I need to celebrate this brave new venture and give ourselves credit for what we've achieved so far.  He's right of course.  On reflection I see that we are not quite as unprepared for this challenge as it might have sounded.  Having said that, I'm usually a 'glass is half full' kinda girl but it's important that we are realistic, don't you think?  And this week has been a real example of how confidence can be boosted and knocked in an instant.

With regard to our specific learning curve (maybe a more accurate description is steep, rocky mountain pass with 200 ft. sheer drops on either side rather than a curve).  We never embark on anything without giving it careful consideration and in preparation for Farmageddon we have read, researched, listened, questioned, networked, become very familiar with YouTube, and attended workshops.  Some of the highlights have included a well maintenance seminar, an evening of 'looking after your septic system', permaculture lessons and, perhaps the most mind numbing, a chicken nutrition workshop.


We also have an existing skill base and strengths that will be useful.  Firstly, we are a great team.  Ian and I work well together and can get things done.  Ian is a great leader and organiser.  He is also knowledgeable in growing and has produced vegetables on a small plot for many years.  I believe I am the right type of person to manage animals.  I used to work with horses, often on farms, until I was 21.  I always care for and respect animals and make their welfare my primary concern.  If there is a hard decision to be made, for example, an animal to be sold or put to sleep, I can turn off my emotions and make that choice objectively.  So I felt entitled to begin my day yesterday quite well informed and confident.

The day began with cleaning Jessica's guinea pigs out.  Instead of the usual routine I decided to embrace our 'reduce, reuse, recycle' ethos and bring the old paddling pool out of retirement as an enclosure for them while I cleaned the cage.  I put it in the back yard and lovingly placed some toys and hay in there and was careful to ensure their safety.  All appeared fine as I wondered off to get clean bedding.  As I was on my way back to the yard I noticed a huge shadow zip over me and the realization hit.  This is Canada and my Britishness had made me complacent.  I forgot about threats from above!  There was a huge eagle circling above my yard surely believing this to be the eagle equivalent of Subway.  In my rush to save the Guinea Pigs I left the door open releasing our dog (a terrier cross, bred for catching rodents) into the yard.  Chaos ensued.  I had to dive for the dog and wrestle poor Baxter to the ground, knocking the plastic paddling pool into a spin.  Once the paddling pool regained stability, I became suddenly aware that all of us (me, the 2 G-pigs and Baxter the dog) were sprawled on the floor, silent and shaking.  On the bright side, at least that lesson has passed in my small backyard.  As caring as I claim to be, I would have never sprinted across 5 acres to save the damn rodents! Note to self: think predator.



Second lesson of the day: chicken ordering.  Again, much research into breeds and careful consideration had been put into this decision and yesterday I confidently presented myself at the hatchery clutching my order form only to have Emily (chicken Mother extraordinaire) look at me and declare it wasn't really a good time to hatch these particular breeds.  And so there I was again.  In the desolate emotional wasteland of feeling like a novice.  I did come away having placed an order after Emily had guided me through other options in her best Kindergarten teacher voice.

The day wasn't over.  I mentioned my love of animals, but as with everything, there is a limit and I have very clearly defined boundaries.  My tolerance ends when creatures have less than 2 legs or more than 4 legs.  So when I found a slug on my hand last night while I was tending my beautiful veggie patch, I lost my cool.  The slug was sent orbiting and I ran to wash my hand omitting various "eeeewwwww' noises and some choice words.

I feel like there might be a lot more choice words on the horizon.

Groan!

The journey, the plan, the objective.

As I start this blog post I am sitting in my 5 bedroom house on my 3000 sq. ft. lot in the 'burbs surrounded by packed cardboard boxes and rolls of bubble wrap. You see, it appears we've gone slightly mad.  Here's how it all began:

First, a little bit of context to help you understand this journey.  We are British Ex-pats, we moved to B.C. in October 2009.  We have 2 daughters, Jessica aged 5 and Lauren, 13.  Life had been busy and emigrating had been hard on us but we had jobs, the kids were in school, we'd made friends, settled in and had no debt outside of our mortgage.  Life was generally good.

But then 2 years ago my husband Ian sailed closer to the threshold of divorce than he had ever done before.  For my 33rd birthday he gave me a book.  After faking delight in front of the kids about "The Back to Basics Handbook: A Guide to Buying and Working Land, Raising Livestock, Enjoying Your Harvest, Household Skills and Crafts, and More", I promptly confronted Ian at the first available opportunity.  I felt shocked and bemused that we had gone from growing a few veggies in the yard to homesteading without any warning.  I felt that this gift represented a void in how we envisaged our future. I was particularly perturbed by the chapter on how to raise, kill, skin your own rabbits and then make them into moccasins (I kid you not).  I saw a future of home grown veggies and he appeared to picture me wearing gingham and rabbit moccasins selling jam to the city folk.

I'm not sure how the idea evolved from that point, perhaps he won me over, maybe he wore me down.  Life has thrown us some challenges and I definitely believe I have had some attitudinal changes as a result.  We have 2 daughters and their superficial outlook on life sometimes causes us concern.  There are some societal motivators; we both feel uncomfortable with the mass consumerism, must-have attitudes of today.  We have serious concerns about food sovereignty and environmental impact.  But whatever the reasons, I sit here in my bare house 2 weeks away from our move....to a 1000 sq. ft. log cabin on 5 acres of land in South Langley.

I feel excited, I've willing walked away from a career in Social Work and Non-Profit and I'm ready for a new and very different challenge.  I'm anxious, the mortgage is huge, there's tractor loans, the land needs completely re-working and I have no idea what I'm doing.  But the plan, arrh the plan, is for Ian to continue to work while I will run the farm.  Even I'm shaking my head in disbelief as I type so I can imagine what reaction this idea evokes in you, the reader.  Other than that, there is no plan!  There have been plans....many, many ever changing plans from vine yards to shooting ranges to growing pot, but right now, we don't really have a clue.  There will be some sort of produce, there has to be an income from the land otherwise we could be homeless by next year!  The only certainty is a desired outcome for self-sufficiency.

There is one other thing, the objective.  We have made a commitment to be mortgage free by the time I'm 50, whilst maintaining a certain lifestyle.  That gives us 15 years and 5 months from when we move.  I plan to record the changes, challenges and successes - warts and all.  I don't want to give up my lifestyle totally and become some crazy eco-hippy recluse.  I am prepared to make sacrifices and change my attitude and approach for the greater good, but there's a limit, right?

And so, let's call it a learning curve, shall we?  Let's see what happens, approach this huge goal with no clear plan and just see how it goes.  I expect to have to work hard (physically and emotionally), laugh a little, cry a bit, drink a lot and try to adapt and survive.  Wish me luck!


I Have Moved!

I am no longer writing new content for Pampers and Pinot (obviously).  Never you fear!  You can now find me at my new blog, Love and Blasphemy.

Look at it.




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