I was a country kid. Of all places, the river was my favourite. We spent whole days sailing round on an old fallen log, catching minnows and catfish, and just pottering. If it was too cold to go ‘down the river’ we’d be in the woods. Swinging back and forth across a ditch, on the old rope swing, or making complex dens in the ferns. It was the perfect childhood. Until the teenage years crept up on me and all I could think about was ‘hanging around town’ and escaping to the city. I left the sticks the day after I left school and didn’t look back. For a while.
Two month’s ago after nearly two decades of city living, we ‘escaped to the country’. Given the number of programmes on the living channel devoted to subject I suspect it’s something a lot of people think about. So I thought I’d write a quick post on it for Munch, by way of explaining my absence and sharing a little of this new chapter with you.
It helped immensely, when it came to making the decision to pack up and move over the hill, change the kids school and ‘start over’, that I have the wanderlust running deep in my blood. My grandparents were wanderers, my parents did their share of drifting around , and if I don’t have some travel on my horizon I start scheming something. So when life in Welly started to get a bit hard, I suggested running away to the country, and here we are.
Two month’s in – is country life the sweet good life ? Well, I find it a little hard to write this, because I don’t want to come across as the perky turkey (because that’s always irritating, right?), but yes, so far it is the sweet good life in spades. What makes it so great? The light. Low cloud on the back mountains. The kids mucking about together in the garden. The chooks, just milling about. Running out to find a ripe lemon in the cooking. Piecing meals together from what’s in the garden. Collecting pine- cones from the paddock. Story time in front of a roaring log fire. Picking flowers for the table, the dressing table, the window sill. The smell of sunshine on the frost on a cold morning. The school bus picking up from the gate. Browns, yellows and oranges or falling leaves that herald actual seasons. I could go on but it all boils down to one thing. I feel at home here.
Over on my own blog (link to on the monkey trail) I am keeping a sporadic record of the goings on in the kitchen and garden and going forward will be sharing one of my favourite posts each month on here in a new ‘Seasons’ series. This month it’s all about apples. We have harvested kilos and kilos of shiny green apples. They are beautiful stewed and even better as the star ingredient in apple brownies. Hope you enjoy them.