It's been awhile since I shared a little of my heart and life on this neglected blog of mine. While enjoy sharing snapshots of our life on Instagram, there is something about sitting down and sharing a slew of photos that encourages me to write with intention.
We are just finishing up another fun filled summer and slowly shifting out attention to the school year that lies ahead. I have been printing out curriculum and acquiring supplies. More than anything I have been preparing my heart and deciding what my focus will be for the year. But I will save those insights for another blog post.
My husband and I have dreamt of a life in the country since early in our marriage. We initially imagined that we would purchase land on the wild west coast far from civilization but life taught us how important community is. Over the years we have purchased and sold homes with aspirations to one day be able to afford a chunk of land. We have gardened in nearly every place we called home over the course of 18 years of marriage. In the beginning it was just an assortment of bonsai that Nathaniel had scavenged from rocky west coast cliffs. At our townhouse we cultivated a beautiful little flower garden composed of foxgloves, hydrangea and roses. When Nate became a police officer we were deployed to a tiny community in the Chilcotin. It was in that there that we had our first taste of country life and we loved it. Nate rebuilt an existing chicken coop and we built garden beds from fallen trees. We grew tomatoes, pumpkins, zucchini and an assortment of other veggies. It was thrilling.
We learned that gardening brought us life and togetherness. We loved the satisfaction of planning, cultivating and harvesting something that we could consume. When our term in the Chilcotin ended we requested a move to Vancouver Island. I knew that I would want to have another baby at some point so we purchased a newly built home with a basement suite. I needed a space that didn't require work, a space where I could just focus on my little people. We also knew that we would need the income from the suite to allow me to stay home with my children. Our house hunting trip allowed us only two days to find a suitable home and we chose the second home that we viewed.
Our life in that neighbourhood proved to be a perfect fit for out family. After moving in we discovered a school within walking distance and fabulous neighbours. Within a couple months we made friends with a farmer down the road. He agreed to a give us space to keep our bees and space for a little garden. It was bliss. We revelled in those rolling open fields just a five minute walk from our home. We would often meander down in the the evening after supper and collect baskets of sweet cherry tomatoes, fists of dahlias and more scarlet runner beans than we could eat. The children would hold chickens and collect crickets and my heart would do flip flops. In the those moments I couldn't help but thank the Lord for his provision.
That plot of land sang to me and created a longing in me for my own wide open space. In the years that followed we began to hunt for the perfect piece of property. It was a disheartening experience and it made me question if it would ever be possibility for us. I questioned whether I was reaching for something that I wasn't supposed to. And yet, the longing persisted.
We nearly bought twenty two acres with my parents but when the owner decided not to sell at the last possible moment, we were devastated. I grieved the loss of that land for over a year. After that I let go of our dream and determined in my heart that I learn to be content with what the Lord had provided us. I remember the moment when Nate and I| looked at each other and realized that perhaps we would never own acreage or maybe not until our children grew up. Perhaps we would never have land and we were okay with that. It was a beautiful release and it allowed us to just focus on the Lord's provision. We had space to garden, our children could walk to school, we had a wonderful church family, a bustling connect group and able to live within our means.
About a year later we purchased a sweet cabin on half an acre in the Gulf islands with my parents. You can read about that storey here. We spent the following year clearing land, having huge bonfires, and watching the whales at East Point. We were ridiculously content and thankful.
In July of 2019 I clicked on a link for real estate listing for the first time in over a year. I was cleaning up my email inbox when I noticed it. Within minutes I was coaxing my husband to get out out bed and look at the listing. Ordinarily he disregards them within minutes-explaining that it doesn't have the right sun exposure, that soil looks poor or that it is too close to a busy road. This time he didn't have any objections so we called a realtor that specializes in rural properties. By some miracle we were able to see the listing later that afternoon.
It was covered in blackberries, unruly gardens and garbage.
By oh, the space, and the potential. I was elated.
That afternoon we were touring the house, stepping over animal feces and garbage bags when I looked back at my husband and said "it's not that bad". His face lit up in shock and delight! While it looked like a raging disaster it ticked all our wish list boxes.
South East exposure 🗸 Water rights to pond 🗸 Wood lot 🗸 Acreage 🗸 Home with character 🗸 Views 🗸 Maple Trees 🗸 Privacy 🗸Affordable🗸Space to garden🗸Long driveway🗸 and so many other things that only the Lord knew we wanted. We took a week to pray and then put in our offer.
They accepted. We had finally purchased our long awaited acreage.
While renovating this fixer has not been easy, it has been such a deeply satisfying and meaningful project. We are FAR from finished and there are many aspects of our home and property that are ugly, ugly, ugly. If you haven't been to our property, there are no rolling hills, picket fences or picturesque barn. Our property is primarily forest with a few clearings. In fact we don't even have a garage. The contents of our previous double car garage are stacked to the roof in my windowless bedroom. Blackberry vines threaten to consume our property if given a couple months traction.. The seals on many of our windows have have failed and thus have a "cloudy" appearance. I can count three others that have shattered but have not yet been replaced. We have the remains of a cracked cement pool in our front yard. It is typically filled with fetid water and bullfrogs. I have painted quite the idyllic picture haven't I? Don't you want to come visit? The shocking thing is that people do want to visit- especially children. They don't notice the weeds, the garbage, the unfinished projects or the defunct hot tub outside my window. *Deep breath*. They see the frolicking goats, the free range chickens, the garden over flowering with jewel toned naturisms and enormous zucchini. They see the gigantic net in the maple trees, the trails, the pond and the tadpoles.
They see freedom and open spaces.
Sometimes I have to remind myself to notice these things; to adjust my lens to see the beauty in the chaos. I joke that walk around with blinders to avoid seeing the aspects of our property that make me cranky. Other times my heart soars when I meander down the garden paths I have collected with a basket of eggs or cherry tomatoes on my arm.
Sometimes the unfinished projects and piles of drywall get to me. It only takes a quick walk through our massive garden bursting with life and I am reminded of what we are doing here.
We are creating beauty together and beauty takes time.
Sometimes I have to scroll through saved Instagram pictures to remind myself that I will have the wallpaper and wainscoting that my little design loving heart has always longed for. However I have to remind myself that these things are only icing on the cake and often unnecessary. What my soul needs is an unhurried life, quality meaningful time with my children, soil to cultivate and thankfulness.
