On knitting, foraging, and so on

It's been another long while since my last post, sorry about that.  It's easy to put it off and put it off and think "who cares?".  But then of course: who does care?  Me.  I care.  I love reading posts about things I had entirely forgotten about, or seeing photos of the house or garden and realising with a jolt how things have changed.



We recently ticked over the two year anniversary of the day we arrived in NZ.

Here is the post I wrote when we first arrived.

And here is the post from our one year anniversary.

Now our life in Perth feels like a dream, it was so long ago.  Sometimes I take for granted our amazing life and beautiful location.  Usually when I'm pushing the lawnmower around the acre of lawn twice a week, and I dream a little bit of a suburban-sized patch of grass.  Only for a moment, I promise!

Not having knit a stitch over summer, I've had a burst of productivity.  I knit up a little cardi for J in record time, and while we were on the most holy Button Selection mission, I discovered that A had chosen some buttons for her own (non-existent) cardigan.  So being the sucker that I am, I'm now making one for her too.  The only issue being that I was in such a hurry to get it done that I forgot to follow the directions for the size 3 and am now making a size 5.  At least she'll get years of wear out of it I suppose.



I'm rushing through A's cardigan because I'm a bit obsessed with something on my needles that's just for meeee.

I bought some merino/silk yarn, and am making a seriously luxurious shawl for myself.  I've been wanting a sort of "investment" project for a while and when my friend showed me this pattern it was an instant yes from me.

And it is an investment.  The most expensive - and prettiest, softest, dreamiest to knit - yarn I've ever bought, and a major investment in time.  Hours and hours of work have gone into this thing.  I'm over halfway through and my major motivation to pick it up every day is that I simply can't wait to wear it.

I finally frogged bloody Sauvie which was very freeing.  I realised what a dud project it was when I was discussing it with my friend and saying how I hated knitting it, the wool was so scratchy and I didn't even know if I was going to wear it.  What was I doing??  I ripped it all out that day.  Not sure what will happen with that scratchy yarn (I have ten balls of the stuff) but at least I don't have bloody Sauvie hanging over my head anymore.

I'm also planning to make a beanie for B's birthday (in June, giving myself lots of time to get it done) out of some possum/merino yarn which I'm just waiting to arrive.


Another very autumnal thing is that the kids have been sick/coughing for the past month.  When we were in Perth I thought "cold and flu season" was a bit of a myth, but here it certainly is not!  The weather turns cool and the kids get sick.  It's all much easier to cope with now that they're a bit older and better able to cope themselves, but A is still the queen of the cough-vomit which is unpleasant for all of us.  At least now she can tell me it's going to come up before it does.



Check out the vegetable garden!  Bit weedy and very quiet.  The freezer is full of beans and carrots and broccoli.  I thought I dried the onions correctly but they've all rotted in storage which is annoying.

It doesn't get more autumnal than this: there was a few weeks there when B and the girls were picking bucketfuls of mushrooms from the paddocks every day.  I'm not a mushroom eater but it was pretty awesome to be able to forage food like that.

This is the last of the gooseberries and I had to fight the chooks for them.  I'd never seen gooseberries growing before we moved here and isn't it cool how they ripen inside their little paper lanterns.  The chickens know exactly which ones are ripe and ready so you have to be quick.

Other things that have happened ...

I made a quick trip back to Adelaide at the end of March.  There are two milestone birthdays in my immediate family in June but with B's work schedule it was a matter of book it now or run the risk of not being able to get away.  I had five full days there which was great and I squeezed in a LOT of eating and drinking.

Because it wouldn't be a trip to Adelaide without it, of course one of the girls got hideously sick while I was away.  Poor little A was coughing and feverish and generally incredibly miserable... B made sure I was kept constantly up to date.  I might have to tell him that if it happens again next time I don't want to know.  I did feel bad for him of course.  It's bloody hard doing it on your own and I've done it plenty.

For easter this past weekend we had dinner with B's mum on good Friday - freshly caught snapper with thanks to B.  Saturday we made a day trip to the bach which was fabulous as always.  The girls even braved the water which was a lot colder than it had been last month.  On Sunday the easter bunny had hidden the eggs inside because a rain event was forecast for Sunday, and it didn't disappoint.  The girls were a bit berserk after being cooped up inside and way too much chocolate so last night B and I made ourselves ill reducing the size of their stash.  Luckily today is bright and sunny (for now).

The yarn for B's beanie arrived a moment ago so I'm off to do my swatch.  Hope you're having a lovely autumnal time with all the best bits of the season, and not sick or suffering chocolate regret.

Autumn is here

This morning we woke up to the soothing sound of pattering rain.  It's still raining now and hopefully it will continue all day.  My Aussie friends will probably scoff, but we really need rain.

It's been ages since my last post and in that time we've shifted from summer to autumn.  There've been some cold nights, and there was even a sprinkle of snow on the mountain before the end of February. 



In the last week or two I've noticed a flush of yellow at the top of the gingko tree out my kitchen window.  It reminds me that we're coming up to two years here in NZ.  That flush of yellow was one of the first things I photographed when we arrived, with our toddler and our baby.  The toddler is now in her last year of kindy, and the baby is in her first.  The cycle goes on.  And I love having the seasons to mark out the memories.

The longer we're here the more I can recognise the different seasons with my eyes closed.  Summer is the ear-splitting zing of cicadas and the drone of tractors.  In autumn it's the song of blackbirds and the sound of chainsaws.  Spring is bees buzzing and the sound of chainsaws, and winter is the smell of woodsmoke and the sound of chainsaws.



It's also the changing angle of the sun coming into the house.  Usually highlighting somewhere that I really need to vacuum.

The vegetable garden has passed its summer peak and we're in the process of changing over to winter crops.  I don't want to see another zucchini for a really long time.  I've already harvested my first head of broccoli.  The beans are done (thank god) and I'll be pulling the vines down once this rain stops.  The cherry tomatoes are ripening their last fruits and the carrot bed is almost empty.

The grape vine has a couple of tiny bunches which will hopefully ripen before it gets too cold.  The lemon tree is dropping the remainder of last year's crop while the new green lemons start to swell.  The hydrandeas in protected spots carry on giving.

I've filled the wood basket and set the fire in readiness but am proud to say I haven't lit it yet, despite some chilly mornings.  

I picked up my needles and cast on a new knitting project for the first time since last winter.

The lawn is suddenly covered in fallen leaves which weren't there yesterday.

So that's where we are in almost-mid-March.  Overall, happy.  Just really happy and content.  With the odd bout of sibling fisticuffs for good measure (more about that on another day I think).

How did I get here?

A while back, I alluded to how my whole life suddenly changed when I got into the oil and gas industry.

Since it's the end of the year, which often puts us in a reflective mood, I thought I'd tell you the long convoluted story of how I ended up who and where I am today.

I've put the photos in this post as close as possible to the part of the story when they were taken.  I'll caption them so you have some idea of what you're looking at.

So...

Back many years ago, when I was... 21?  22 maybe? I had quit the supermarket job I started right out of school when I didn't get into any university courses.  I went from the supermarket to behind the bar of an Irish pub, and I was really hating it.  Crying every day before work kind of hating it.

My dad took pity on me and gave me a job in his law office as a rounds clerk.  I'm not sure if they even have rounds clerks anymore but back then my job was walking around town every day filing documents in court, delivering briefs, picking things up, dropping things off, and conducting property settlements.

For whatever reason, I really enjoyed doing property settlements.  Back then (again, this has probably all changed) all the conveyancers in South Australia would meet at the Lands Titles Office every morning.  The banks had desks around the perimeter of the room, which was always packed with people and LOUD.  You walked around yelling at the top of your lungs for the conveyancer you were meeting, then you lined up to see the banks deal with the mortgages, and that's how property changed hands.

Now bear with me.  Things get a bit complicated here.  I did say this was a convoluted story.

I did my conveyancing diploma part-time at night, and I got a job at a small private mortgage company, which was then sold to a bigger private mortgage company, who transferred my role to their external conveyancer... who wasn't much fun to work for.

The view from my old house in southern Adelaide.  The black clouds are a good reflection of how I felt about that house.

After the private mortgage company was sold, and I got transferred to the external conveyancer, and he wasn't much fun to work for, I went job hunting again (always, always, looking for a change) and got a job at a company which did a lot of work for oil and gas clients.

I think this is Moana beach in Adelaide.  It's a beach south of Adelaide that you can drive onto, at any rate

Around the same time, I met my then-boyfriend's brother's girlfriend's sister (still with me?) who worked for a client of my new employer.  The boyfriend's-brother's-girlfriend's-sister had been transferred to a job in a little town called Roma in Queensland.  She recommended me for her old job in Adelaide, which I got.

I loved it, loved my job for the first time probably ever.  Part of the job was giving safety presentations.  I think the goal was 50 presentations.  In my first year I gave over one hundred presentations, all over the state.  Turns out, I love public speaking!

Me, describing in lavish detail how gas pipelines can explode and destroy everything in the vicinity.

Heading north on another pipeline safety trip, looking towards the Flinders Ranges I think

I was earning good money, feeling motivated and positive.  I quit smoking.  I got really dissatisfied with my personal life which in comparison seemed like the same old depressing hamster wheel.

Anyway, after not long at all, my boyfriend's-brother's-girlfriend's-sister was leaving her job in Queensland.  Once again, the role she was vacating was suggested as the logical next step for me.  Once again, I got the job.  Yes, in Queensland.

It never once occurred to me not to leap at the chance.  Of course I would move to Queensland if the opportunity arose.  Why on earth would I say no??  Always, always, looking for something.

I was to move to Queensland around Easter that year, with the intention that my boyfriend would be in Roma within a couple of months.

I left Adelaide mid-morning and arrived at the house in Roma late at night.  It was a big new-ish house, almost empty.  I walked in the front door, set my bag on the kitchen bench, and let out a huge sigh.

I love that I have a photo of that very moment.

I remember it so clearly.

It felt like the first time I'd exhaled in years.  At that moment I knew my relationship was over.  I was so unhappy.  It wasn't fixable.  It took getting away to realise it.

The drive to work in Queensland.  After that I never want to commute through city traffic again.

Then, very shortly after, I met B at a community boxing match.  He got my phone number from a mutual friend, we went on a date to the second-best Chinese restaurant in town, and I remember looking at him as he paid the bill.  I'm not a believer in love at first sight but I knew that this was going to be something.  This was the start of something good.

Sunset from my house in Roma, Queensland.

Of course you don't just sail off into the sunset.  Ending my previous relationship was hard and messy and painful, and severing things financially took months.  But there was no question about what the right thing for me was.

I had never wanted children.  Never wanted to get married.  In fact Past Prue would probably look at my life now and feel a bit disappointed with how ordinary it's turned out, what with the baking and gardening and stay-at-home-parenting.  But what Past Prue would not be able to fathom is how deeply contented and happy she would be - at last - in this very ordinary life.

I rattled around a lot for the first 30 years of my life.  Looking back it's easy to see that I was never very happy.  Always, always, moving job or house or friends, always looking for something.

Always dreaming of a different life without knowing what it was.

I found it!

My crown is in my heart

“My crown is in my heart, not on my head; not decked with diamonds and Indian stones, nor to be seen: my crown is called content, a crown it is that seldom kings enjoy.”
― William Shakespeare

It's a year today since we arrived in New Zealand to live.

I had been so excited in the lead up, but on the big day I didn't feel anything like how I expected to feel.  It all came crashing down on me as we drove to the airport that day, hours away from leaving our beautiful life in Perth. 

I was terrified. 

I suddenly thought it was a huge mistake.  I couldn't even talk.  I spent the first week here sick with a shocking cold, lost my voice, and inwardly was freaking out.

Luckily I got well again, and life got amazing.  You can read the first post I wrote after we arrived here.  Gosh I can't believe that was a year ago.  The kids were so little!

Every day now we collect eggs and check on our cows and eat apples from our orchard.

I remember those first few times driving home along country roads, barely believing that this wasn't a holiday and we weren't going to leave.  I still drive those roads and drink in the views.  Every time I turn in our gate I still can't believe we get to live here.

Our girls will never remember anything different.  This is their childhood.

“My crown is in my heart, not on my head; not decked with diamonds and Indian stones, nor to be seen: my crown is called content, a crown it is that seldom kings enjoy.”
― William Shakespeare

2017: finding my way home

Brace yourselves!  Here comes the pensive pondering of the year that was...

In January the purchase of our ten acres went through and it all became official.  We were really and truly going to move to New Zealand.  I remember when B sent me this photo of our new front gate and I just about couldn't breathe from excitement.  Was this really happening??

Those first few months of 2017 passed in a blur of stress, excitement, fear, apprehension, and joy.  Oh and sleep deprivation.  Always with a side of sleep deprivation.

Suddenly it was April and we packed up our house in Perth that had so many happy memories attached.  Splashing in the pool, scootering up and down the driveway, many beers and laughs shared with friends on the back verandah.  J's first steps, A's arrival, it all happened here.



We farewelled that sun-drenched suburban garden...

...for a slightly damper but much bigger one.

With the added bonus of our country lifestyle dream.  Acres for our girls to roam, animals for them to raise and care for, warm eggs collected from under soft feathers, fluffy calves waiting at the gate, wood smoke and muddy puddles and apples hanging in the orchard.

Yes, it rained this winter.  It rained a lot.

There were so many peaceful misty mornings that I stopped rushing out in my pyjamas to photograph them.

It rained some more.  The paddocks literally streamed with water from all the rain.

And in between times it was very cold.  Biting frosts, layers upon layers of woolies, the fire roaring all day.

We got sick.  Over and over, the revolving door of coughs and colds that everyone had warned us about when moving to a new country.  The girls coughed and coughed and coughed, they had permanently runny noses, we consumed (what felt like...) litres of children's paracetamol and ibuprofen.  We were up with them, worrying, in the cold tiny hours of the night, or lying awake listening to one - or both - cough in their beds, and worrying.

We were stuck inside due to the rain for days on end.  J's gumboots all sprung leaks.  The cows huddled in the sodden paddocks.  The trees were bare and cold, and the wood basket was filled and emptied, filled and emptied.

Then someone threw the switch and the sun came out.

A learned to crawl, and her sleep improved (for a time anyway).  A sunny little toddler personality, with a side of fiery temper, emerged from that forlorn difficult little baby.

The trees and the garden beds all sprang to life with blossoms popping open and bulbs poking through the soil.

The paddocks exploded with buttercups.

My baby A turned one.

We added chooks and sheep to the menagerie, and had homegrown produce that we could barely keep up with.

The girls fought and cuddled and made each other shriek with laughter, then fought again and made each other cry, and then cuddled and read books together.

The feijoas, hydrangeas and the pohutukawas flowered.  The sun beat down, the ground dried and cracked, the grass grew tall, went to seed and died.

The joy and excitement of Christmas filled little J to bursting, we ate and drank and the girls opened mountains of gifts.  A day on the beach, shells in little plastic buckets, sunburn, hats, sandy toes.  Little girls fast asleep in the back of the car winding our way back home, hot chips for dinner, early to bed for us all.

It's been a busy twelve months.  So much has happened since this time last year!  It's been hard at times, feeling lonely and exhausted and sometimes plain fed up.

Over and above all, though, it's been the year we finally got to start living the life we've dreamed of since we first met.  It's been watching J pick a sprig of thyme to smell as she passes by.  It's seeing A laugh properly and joyfully for the first time.  Watching B tend to his animals.  Sunshine, rain, frost, and steaming humidity.

And for me, it's that feeling of being a long way from where I started, but also home at last.