blueberrying

One fine morning, we rose early (taking a break from that prolonged, distracting state that we call moving house) and headed to the farm with our buckets, hats and snacks.

blueberrying

A summer isn’t right without a few trips to the local farms, strawberrying, raspberrying. I feel rooted and stable when I’m eating food we’ve gathered ourselves, and I see the children are so content.

blueberrying

We are so lucky to know a farm that uses organic practices. (If you’re on the southern part of Vancouver Island, visit Nicholas Farm, they’re wonderful, I’m so grateful to live nearby.) Not a chemical to worry us, and such beautiful rows of heavy fruit.

blueberrying

Be sure to bring your young blueberriers with you. They are nimble and close to the little bushes, and if you ply them with sandwiches they may pick quite a heap.

blueberrying

My small one shouts “Jackpot!” upon finding gigantic berries. Extraordinary things. Six of us picked 120 pounds of gorgeous fruit in a short morning on the farm.

blueberrying

Berries to cook into jam or kiiseli or tarts; to dry, to sink in a jar of gin, to freeze. I could live on the beauties. Soon we’ll plant our own little patch and go blueberrying at the lakeside cottage.

flower farm

Not so far from our little cottage is a flower farm. We drove across Kentish countryside full of bluebells and blossoming orchards, to visit the land where Blooming Green grow row upon row of gorgeous flowers. We’ve something very special happening this week, and we wanted to pick flowers ourselves, ones that are in season, local, and grown with as much care as the organic food we eat.

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flower-gatherers

flower-harvester

flowers-picked

One day I shall grow my own cutting garden, inspired by this gorgeous bit of England. If you have something special you’d like to pick your own flowers for, do visit Blooming Green Flowers, they are so wonderful. Thank you ever so much, Jen & Bek!

flower-buckets

real milk

Life is very sweet but slightly mad around here just now as I try to find homes for all our things and get accustomed to our place. We are facing the slow pace of the country, and while it is a delight, it is hard to sort out how to get around, putting internet and telephone in, and getting everything running. Sorting out food is far easier. We took our dear friend Sonny with us to the organic farm down the road.

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They let us explore and meet the darling piglets and cows, and go to the roundhouse where friendly folk come to do woodwork. The children and I tried out the lathe. More about this later. (Oh, my heart races when I think of working with a lathe!) The cows were peaceful creatures, and we were amazed at how gentle the smells of the farm were. I wonder if this is a biodynamic/organic quality? They are healthy, contented animals.

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The farm produces real, clean milk, untreated, with all the enzymes left in. The herd have their horns, which is understood to affect not only how they organise socially (as well as preventing squeezing a lot of animals into a small space) but has an influence over the digestive enzymes they produce. Interesting? It’s been quite some time since we had raw milk and it is gorgeous! We got some of their raw milk cheddar and some yogurt. None of us wanted to leave the creatures, the children are talking about volunteering to look after them. We took a great load of local fruits and vegetables home with us. Such a pleasure. We’re looking forward to our next trip, when we can go visit the chickens and cows and say hello to the piggies again, after shopping for our food. Bliss.

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