Let's get things straight. There is an undoubted romance here. The peace, tranquility and solitude. The majesty of the blue gums, the song of the magpies, the green productive garden.
Living this far from the conveniences most of us take for granted comes at a cost. At the moment the river is too low for the micro hydro to generate enough electricity for daily showers and the washing up - we have to choose. Scratching a garden from a clearing in the forest takes hard work and mucky effort. Work mates struggling to the office will be delighted by the image of me, this morning shovelling fresh cow manure into buckets on the back of the Ute before spreading it on the garden beds.
Inside the house, huge plaits of garlic are drying.
Today we tore one into cloves for planting in the garden for next year's crop. Pulling the heads of garlic apart revealed beautiful patterns of cream, pink and apricot cloves. (Tucking this idea away for a knitting colour scheme).It felt good to plunge them into earth warmed by the sun.
I really do smell terrible. My jeans could stand up by themselves. My nails are short and stained. I am happy.
Knitting steals its way into quiet moments. Not sure I'm feeling the Noro love. The colour of the yarn is fascinating and very beautiful. The fabric, despite the stringiness of the yarn, is fairly soft and feels sort of felted, if a little lumpy. It's just very hard to knit in anything like a consistent tension and not good for low light conditions at all. The fact that I'm exhausted and aching in muscles I didn't know I had has, of course nothing to do with it!