the big news

Some people might have got a sense that somethings going on around here, other than I'm flat stick with the wedding plans...something else, something big, and scary and important and exciting all at once. (Some people are dying to know!)

We decided to come 'home' to Gippsland and leave behind our life at Ythanbrae 12 months ago, as it (Gippsland) was always where we thought we would eventually be. It was all part of The Plan. We missed being closer to our family and friends, we wanted to take a step up for Mr M's career and thought that this was the natural next step, into the family business and away from farm management. Our eventual dream is to own our own farm, our own business, our own home. We saw an opportunity here at Brindabella. We thought in farm management jobs like we had been working in this was not a possibility (which it's not really, you work somebody's else's land for them which isn't our ideal, but was still very rewarding and we ran and loved Ythanbrae as if it were ours). 

Over the past 12 months I've learnt a lot. A year ago I thought I had it all figured out - The Plan was swinging into action. Perhaps I shouldn't have counted my chickens and all that. Perhaps I shouldn't have even had A Plan. So I've learnt a lot. I've learnt that you can not manufacture happiness. I've learnt that all the promises in the world don't amount to much if there is no action. I've learnt that a house which is almost yours, your dream garden, closeness to family and friends, all means not much if at the end of every day you're not happy. Truly happy. If you still don't feel right within yourself as to how you are spending your life. Do what you love. It's simple but hard all at the same time. 

Yes I've learnt much, but the greatest lesson learnt for 2011 would be what a sense of 'home' is. What it is, not where it is. That was a big lesson to learn. Yes.

Thorpdale was always home. Yes, Gippsland is where the majority of our family and friends are. Yes, this is where we grew up. But is it still home? Perhaps. But Ythanbrae was our home also, and before we embarked on that crazy adventure I would've never said anywhere but Thorpdale would be 'home'. I borderline would say Ythanbrae felt more like home than my family farm here does. Over the past few months I've had many a sleepless night asking myself why? It's hard to put our fingers on - but at the end of a day here we are not happy. We are not content, fulfilled. We want more. That we know.

We want to explore, to discover new opportunities, which we just know are out there for us. We want to have amazing experiences and open doors throughout the agri-industry for ourselves. We're 25 years old - we want to travel and do all of these things before we have kids and 'settle'. 

Settle. I always thought that's exactly what I wanted. I wanted the white picket fence, the scones in the oven, the dream. It was all in The Plan. I wanted to build a home with Mr M, raise our children and live happily ever after. What I know now is that I don't need a white picket fence and my perfect home to actually have 'the dream'. That reality smacked me hard in the face. It was like a lightbulb was on. No, a floodlight. I could see clearly. Things don't make you happy, people do, experiences do. Perhaps The Plan wasn't a bad idea, but The Plan can change. And that's ok. 

And so, we have made the hardest decision I have ever had to make. 

We are walking away from what we thought was our dream here at Brindabella. No we are not 'walking away' - this is not a failure or a disappointment. No. Perhaps we were wrong to even come here. Perhaps we are wrong in this decision to leave. Only time will tell. But we can not not make this decision. Forward movement is vital, essential to healthier, happier selves.

Mr M is my home and I am his. This we know. A roof or a door or a tree or the perfect paint colour are not our home. We are our home. Us. Not much else matters is what I keep telling the doubting voices in my mind.   

We have a new Plan. A better Plan. That plan is rough and sketchy and flexible. It's a good Plan.

Images of prints from A Typical A

whelmed

POST PUBLISH NOTE: IT APPEARS I AM NO MOVIE BUFF AND THE QUOTE IS FROM 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU NOT CLUELESS...CLUELESS INDEED!

"I know you can be overwhelmed...and you can be underwhelmed...but can you ever just be whelmed?"

Good point. Ah Clueless, the answer always lies with you. Ok maybe not always, but lately I have been feeling that being 'whelmed' could actually be a highly plausible phenomenon. Totally.

Yes I have a ten page long, five tab wide spreadsheet to get a handle on The Wedding preparations (no I am not kidding). No I don't have screaming children to deal with (as I know a lot of my readers do). Yes I do have a demanding 40+ hour/week job away from this blog, away from weddings, away from my photography business. Yes I have booked every supplier needed for The Wedding, so I don't feel overwhelmed, I seem to have a handle on it, everything's cool. But I am definitely not underwhelmed.

I felt I still needed A List. So I made one. And promptly stuck it on our fridge as some sort of validation of my thought process. 'Here's my list for all to see - I dare you to not complete it!' is what it says to myself. I am promising myself not to get distracted by other shiny easier tasks on a bigger list I could have written. I could have made the list three pages long, not one, but these are the things I need to do first. So I will.

Image by Emma Durkin for Cinderella at Brindabella

our farmers, our future

As an almost farmers wife, I feel strongly about supporting rural women and their families. Despite what might be portrayed on The Farmer Wants A Wife, this gig isn't all sitting on wide verandas of your country estate sipping cups of tea and flicking through Country Style magazines.

Oh no. Sometimes it's hard. In fact, a lot of the time it's hard. Bloody hard.

Some nights your husband won't crawl into bed until 3am because he's out ripping a paddock preparing to sow because the rain will be here later in the week. Some days you will find yourself literally up to your armpits in a heifer trying to help her with a difficult calf. Some nights you will find yourself in the pitch black holding a torch trying to fix a trough so your livestock can be watered. Some days you will be screamed at by angry farmers who are at breaking point financially due to market conditions. Some days you'll spend all morning preparing a beautiful lunch whilst caring for a sick child to be told there's 'just 60 more to go' when you're AI'ing (true story). Some days you'll be knee deep in mud (it's mud right?!) and directing wayward cattle dogs to 'get away back and push push push!'. Some days you'll be hurtling through a blizzard on the back of the motorbike trying to muster ewes and lambs, the next day you'll be cursing the flies and heat and dust - so much dust - whilst helping to needle 200 stroppy mama cows.

Yes, some days it's hard. You are a cook, a financial planner, a counsellor, a trainee agronomist, a livestock agent, a plumbers apprentice,  a vet nurse, a jillaroo of all trades. But you have your best friend beside you.

If you have ever walked into your local supermarket and picked up a potato, an onion, some flour, some bread, some sugar, some meat and thought you appreciated where it comes from - please please please think about what you are truly appreciating. That cup of sugar, that piece of bread, those eggs and milk, have all come from hard working families. Families who sacrifice an awful lot to feed your family. Farmers are undervalued, underpaid and overworked. But for most they would not do any other job. It's not a job, it is a vocation. It's a misconception that farming is a low skilled industry, please take five minutes to watch this video to mark 2012 - the year of the farmer, and hopefully come away from it with a greater understanding of just what goes into producing the food you eat this evening.

ythanbrae dreaming

I love Gippsland. I do. It's home to me. Always will be.

But when I saw this image, my heart yearned for the wild and magical hills of Ythanbrae. It was our home, not just my childhood home. It was something we did together. Us against the world.

Sometimes I miss that feeling.

Image via Style Me Pretty



the great retail moral dilemma

On my recent trip to the big smoke I visited all my favourite big chain stores: Ikea, Freedom, Provincial Home Living, Kikki K and The Works (Bed Bath n Table's superstore headquarters on Burwood Road, Hawthorn). Because I don't get to Melbourne very often, I really tend to go on a 'binge' and have a total overdose experience.

There were the usual things I swoon over at Provincial: long library bookcases with sliding ladders, chalkboard tags, little zinc birdhouses, white ceramic jugs, wicker trunks and glass storage jars topped with nickel roosters. All the products are always impeccably styled and laid out, they are the masters of visual merchandising at Provincial Home Living. Everything always looks perfectly cohesive, yet attainable. I often want to live in one of their stores forever.

We are currently on the hunt for a bench to go on our back porch by our kitchen door. I love the idea of an old church pew if we can find one (there are plenty around on ebay etc. but some cost an arm and a leg!) but I would also like the bench to have a lift lid for storing all of our boots that seem to kick around the back door.

Then, standing in my favourite store, I saw the perfect bench. It was exactly what we wanted (I didn't snap a photo of it, but you can see it on their facebook page and in their catalogue). At first I was ecstatic, then I took a step back and was almost repulsed by it. Here it was, perfect in every way, yet I didn't want it. I knew that there were hundreds, if not thousands, exactly like it. No doubt all pumped out of a factory in China. As much as I wanted the bench, I didn't want the bench. I was torn. I left my favourite store feeling...strange. On I trundled to The Works, a staple on my retail adventuring list and sure to bolster my mood. Surely?

I loved the styling of these rustic, botanical inspired products. Great selection of terraniums, slate herb markers, hydrangeas, mini pots, garden ceramics and wire baskets.  

As usual The Works did not disappoint - beautiful window displays (love the roll top bath window display below), usual favourites like TG Green Cornishware, a wall full of cushions and pretty seasonal displays like the cheerful Easter inspired one above.

I wandered the aisles admiring the beautiful homewares and looked up to see a wall (a wall!) full of glass milk bottles in all shapes and sizes. I stood back and just stared at them. The weekend before I had spent hours sifting through antique and vintage stores in Healesville and Yarra Glen searching for the perfect milk bottles for our wedding centrepieces. Both Mr M's and my grandparents were dairy farmers, we wanted milk bottles with soul. And now here they were. A whole wall of them. None with soul though. Again, all pumped out of a factory in China all because people like me determined that they were 'on trend'. I left feeling oh so confused and conflicted. Was I, as the diligent robotic consumer, the cause of the problem? Yes.

  

Don't get me wrong, I love to shop as much as the next girl, I love pretty things, but after a whirlwind of stores and seeing so much stuff it all gets a bit overwhelming doesn't it? I started feeling quite sick about it all. Retail 'therapy' is sometimes not so therapautic after all.

Have you ever had a moral retail dilemma like me? How do you mix vintage and new items well in your home without it looking like a) an Ikea catalogue and b) a treasure trove of junk?

P.S. All images taken on my iPhone - not bad hey?!

Images by Emma Durkin for Cinderella at Brindabella.