:: a visit

:: sun, sun, sun!

:: swimming in Guelph Lake - so refreshing

:: dipping in c-c-c-cold Lake Ontario amongst sandy little kids

:: new Cee-Lo, old Talking Heads, and all-time-best funk tracks here and here

:: amazing Toronto Island - big old trees, endless tucked away green spaces, long beaches and bike paths

:: bare feet on hot sand and sand sticking to suntan lotion-lathered skin

:: the World Cup in car-free Little Italy

:: thousands of bees buzzing in the yellow field - vuvuzelas at Gothic Cottage

:: laughing in the garden

:: sturdy tomatoes surrounded by a bed of straw mulch

:: reminiscing, de-mythologizing and storytelling

:: the original karate kid’s self-deprecating humour

:: peonies filling every room with their luscious aroma

:: the vireo down the road - most original bird song

:: homemade rhubarb ginger jam and iced tea

:: new-to-me lawnmower with power wheels (where have you been all these snow-free months, you beauty!)

Carrot Fest was an excellent excuse to get over to Everdale Farm & Environmental Learning Centre. BBQ, an abundance of carrots in big bowls on harvest tables, workshops, guided farm tours, self-guided exploration - who could ask for more on a sunny Saturday afternoon? In the spirit of the orange root vegetable, the staff placed laminated pages of the sweet kids book Carrot Soup by John Segal along a path through one of their gardens.

What a fabulous idea!

I remember when Everdale first crossed my radar three years ago. Roddy and I were living in Toronto and being exposed through our work to inspirational food security groups and the world of community gardens. I was bubbling over with enthusiasm for this newfound arm of my passion for engaged communities, sustainable agriculture, seed diversity and simply, food - thinking about food, preparing food, eating food. It’s safe to say that food has always been at or very near the forefront of my mind (and I am relieved and eternally grateful that I have a fast metabolism).

When I learned more about Everdale, the centre sat in my mind as a beacon of alternative living. From it’s web pages I learned about straw bale construction and farmer apprenticeship opportunities. I didn’t know it at the time, but Everdale was part of the inspiration for my volunteer experience at an organic farm the following summer. It was also one of the sparks in the creation of my mission to integrate community, deeper connection, and organic agriculture, which ultimately led to the development of Roddy’s and my shared dream to create an organic market garden.

I visited Everdale in person for the first time when I was back home in Ontario last September. My mom and dad were curious to get a tour of Home Alive - the farm’s green powered straw bale house - and I wanted to suss the place out. At the time, Roddy and I were toying with a grand plan of either WWOOFing our way down the west coast into South America together, or hanging onto one of our jobs (mine) and doing an intensive apprenticeship at Everdale (Roddy). Even in the rain Everdale was quite magical, but Roddy and I decided the apprenticeship and WWOOFing options weren’t right for either of us. We wanted to jump right into our own farm. A somewhat scarier option, but definately exhilarating!

Funny how things come full circle. Roddy and I never expected to return to Ontario, and now we are only a 15 minute drive from Everdale. We’re very lucky to have landed so near their experienced staff, some of whom oversee LandLINK - an initiative that connects beginning farmers with farmland owners and farming opportunities in Erin Township.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering,

Summer has only just kicked into gear in Southern Ontario. June and July were cool and wet, which has pushed back farmers’ haying schedules. However, this week was hot and sticky, making Wednesday a BIG day for us on the farm. It was the day that our overgrown field was finally shorn.

When guests pop round to visit us, I happily step outside to greet them. When Michael from one line over arrived on his tractor, my heart started to flutter. I was so excited to meet the farmer we’d exchanged phone calls with. The farmer who knew his soils, knew what we needed, and wanted to help. The farmer who was going to reveal our land to us.

Michael is fantastic. A wirey, weathered man with a thick beard that curls over his lip, beady eyes cloaked in black rimmed glasses, toting a cracked hard hat over top a tilley hat complete with feather. His family has been living in the Township of Guelph Eramosa since 1832. His aunt went to school with the Tim Horton (who “wore Coke bottle glasses”), and one of his brothers has a PhD in Alfalfa. Micheal has been haying our field for the past 15 years, and he walked us through all the grasses, weeds and flowers growing within it: Timothy (the ultimate feed grass), Broom, Orchard Grass, Alfalfa, Solid Stan, Leafy Spurge, Heat, Velvet Leaf, Golden Rod, and Queen Anne’s Lace. I love these names - they sound like a motley crew of nerdy and showy teenagers at a 1930’s school dance.

He also gave us a wealth of information on the state of our land - and his report was promising! Michael believes that we have excellent soil with good moisture levels and drainage. We knew it received excellent sun exposure (that’s one of the reasons we were so excited about this SW sloping field before we bought it), but we weren’t sure of the soil’s condition. Michael thinks it’s well-balanced and after a plow brings the nutrients to the surface we should have no trouble establishing healthy topsoil for our crops. It is a bit damp at the bottom by the forest, but we can do other things there… apparently it’s an ideal spot for beekeeping. In short: we should have no trouble doing whatever we want to do here, from tiny farming to creating an orchard. Music to our ears!

As I hung over the big machine that would sheer our grass and took it all in - the blades, the tines, the stretching wheels, Michael’s black fingers and missing thumb tip - it struck me that this is where I’m meant to be. Chatting in the sun with Roddy and a wise and witty farmer with bags of character, creating a life centered around good food, the outdoors, and community.

And then, Michael was off and the entertainment began. Roddy and I sprung up to the roof with our cameras to capture this momentous occasion (look out for Roddy’s crisper, paparazzi shots soon).

We’re seeing our field with new eyes now that it’s cut and the hay lies drying in rows.  We can easily walk within it and to the forest, and the scope for imagining our crops has magically opened up now that we can see the land rather than it’s shaggy overcoat. When I’m at the back of the field and Roddy’s in the middle it feels expansive but manageable at the same time. There’s room for Roddy’s mouth watering Scottish tatties, my prize-winning heirloom tomatoes, plump squash and towering sunflowers, our greenhouse, grape vines, foraging hens, and a thriving row of nutty arugula.

Who knew that a close shave would bring dreams to life?

I’m in Montreal - a city I love - for work this week, but I feel like a mom stripped from her babe. I’m so looking forward to returning to my clover meadow, my love, and my kits.

The farm is so much more beautiful than I imagined it would be in summer.

The 2 acre field is filled with graceful grasses, buttercups, clover, wild strawberries, and wild flowers yet to be ID’ed. I’ve strolled through it in a skirt at dawn and come back completely soaked in dew and happy. I’ve also walked to the field’s edges after the rain in Roddy’s oversized hip-waders, and I still got dew-dusted.

The grasses are growing taller at an alarming rate. Roddy mowed a path right the way round the field and the cats come bouncing along with us. I wonder how many trips round we’ll make?

My cross-Canada adventure has now come full circle.

In late August 2007 Roddy and I jumped aboard a train in Toronto and traveled west with clothes, a few books, Moroccan treasures, a yoga mat, two computers, two instruments, two cameras, one mountain bike, and two young cats.

From the train we sat back and took in the vast Boreal Forest

and we both saw the Prairies for the first time

before we stopped in Vancouver, gathered our luggage and hopped on a ferry for the final leg of our journey to Nanaimo, BC on Vancouver Island.

Over the following 10 months, Roddy moved to Victoria and I to Vancouver for jobs in our fields, I moved in Vancouver once more and then to Victoria to join Roddy and work from home. Our past year in Victoria is the longest we’ve lived in one place together in Canada.

In the last 7 years I’ve moved 14 times. 9 cities, 3 provinces, 2 countries. Now back in Ontario, I’m nomadic again for the next few weeks, floating between my parents’ place in sleepy Barrie and my sisters’ and friends’ places in bustling downtown Toronto.

But my transience is about to come to a grinding halt. In 25 days Roddy and I will plant roots on our new tiny farm. Our load has grown a bit: we’re returning with additions of a Persian carpet, art, paints, a second guitar, a third camera, more books, and a collection of seeds. After all these years of wanderlust, our dream of living off the land and developing an organic market garden is finally unfolding.

I’m supposed to do a “final walkthrough” of the property before it closes next week, but I don’t want to set foot on the land until Roddy joins me next month. Surely my dear pop can do this! My mom thinks I’m shirking responsibility but I’m fighting hard to get out of this one. Roddy and I haven’t seen the farm since February – it will be lush, green and full of promise now.

Am I a crazy romantic? Wouldn’t you want to walk down the gravel road hand-in-hand with your lover the first time you approached your fresh new life?

Pretty wild, eh?! It’s starting to feel real now, but this has been a surreal couple of months.

When I was back in Toronto and Barrie for the holidays, I wasn’t just sipping mulled wine and eating shortbreads by the fire. After getting my fill of holiday cheer, I slipped away to my parents’ icy basement (with cozy slippers) and sat before the MLS glow. For all the hours Roddy and I have spent pouring over this online real estate hub, my holiday property scan was relatively painless - hardly anything fit the bill in the region I zeroed in on.

One wee place in did catch my eye. I could picture Roddy and I pottering in the open field lined with tall trees. I had a gut feeling about this place.

Meanwhile, Roddy was roaming the Scottish Highlands and also scoping out a property we’d found online. But it didn’t feel right.

So what led us to away from the land of milk and honey to Ontario and Scotland? After much soul-searching during our property scout in Nova Scotia, we made a critical realization: if we’re going to endeavour to become farmers, we want to be near one of our families. Along the way something else has become clear: we need both of our families and both of our countries to be part of a more regular routine. But we can’t afford to buy two farms. So for this chapter, we’d pour ourselves into one property, and extended visits (winters?) overseas.

Just before New Years Eve, I followed up on the wee farm. It was bizarre prospecting without Roddy - strange to be sending my photos across the ocean, awkward not to be able to communicate my excitement, and even more weird thinking and talking about the farm for a month when we were reunited again. By February, Roddy still hadn’t seen the place, so on Valentines weekend, we hopped on a plane to Toronto.

It wasn’t love at first sight. We had aspirations for a lovely little character home (or no house at all), and this place has character… it’s just, er, hidden. The farm house (vintage at 125 years old) has a poor layout, some plaster is cracking, the old carpet is hideous, and it’s exterior has been covered up with vinyl siding (does it get any worse than vinyl siding??).

But the field, (sigh) oh the field! 2 acres of gorgeous earth, slightly sloping to the south-west, which has produced pesticide-free hay for the last 15 years. At the bottom is 1 acre of hardwood forest (and much more which belongs to another farmer) with the house, workshop, a small barn, and yard overlooking from the top of the 4 acre property. It’s flanked by mature hardwoods on all sides - a blank canvas just begging for TLC. And we’ve got a whole lotta love to give!

The farm is in the beautiful rolling countryside of Guelph Eramosa Township, just a 10 minute drive from Guelph, Ontario, and an hour west of Toronto.

We bought it at the end of February, it’s ours at the end of May, and we’re moving in at the end of June. I still need to pinch myself but I’m sure once we’re knee deep in renos, DIY and dirt it will feel very real. YEEEEEHAAAAWW!

Last weekend was a reunion of sorts: my sister Tori and her fiancée Nancy were in Vancouver and after seven months of unsatisfying phone communication, we soaked up our time together. Roddy joined us for brunch on Sunday where we were also reunited with Tan, one of Tori’s oldest pals and our ex-housemate from Nanaimo.

Being in the same room as Nanaimo and Toronto buddies really put our current plans in perspective: just a year ago Roddy and I were selling off almost all of our stuff in Lindsay, Ontario in preparation for the long train journey across Canada. When we pulled into our new place in Nanaimo, we came with the precious belongings that made the cut: some books, our computers, clothes, cameras, quilt, Moroccan lamp, special trinkets, djembe drum, guitar and our two young cats. We also arrived on different terms than we’d expected. Neither of us would return to academia, instead we would look for jobs in our fields.

We did find excellent jobs, albeit in different cities. But in retrospect our distance brought us closer to first developing our own dreams, then merging those visions and finally going after “the dream” full throttle. All dreaming aside, however, last weekend was one of embracing the weather, the season, the city, and the fabulous energy of my sweet sis and her darling partner. The wind wasn’t very strong but Tori fell in love with a city – with its game and book stores, its relaxed air, and its bountiful blackberries.

For those who’ve been following, a preliminary step hasn’t yet been posted, but the first step on our local food/local living quest has certainly been sniffing out local food. This step has been carried out in various stages: monitoring which grocery stores stocked seasonal, local produce; foraging fruit trees and bushes in summer; buying direct from local farmers; working on a local organic farm; and attempting, within our limits, to grow our own veg.

But the broader vision is to be growing our own food on a few acres in a bucolic setting. We also want to be mortgage-free, which led us to explore numerous properties in Nova Scotia last June. Well, after vacillating upon our return, we took the plunge and put in an offer last week on a piece of land in the middle of Cape Breton.

Fifteen minutes north-east of the historic town of Baddeck, set in a wild valley surrounded by comforting hills, lies what we call Baddeck Farm. This 70 acre swath of land contains 11 acres of cleared field, a solid driveway leading to a mammoth sand pit (hello cob house resource!), 3 streams, 1 river teaming with trout, a forest, a wild blueberry patch and wild strawberries. It’s free of traffic, has moose tracks meandering through the sandpit, and the air is fresh and filled with bird calls. Ahhh – peace, serenity, resources… an ideal place to create Locavore Farm? (above and below)

The process of looking at land and bidding on a property led us to refine our needs and desires.

What we need:

1. At least 3 acres, but definitely not more than 100
2. Clear land – a couple of acres should be field, without an existing dwelling
3. Clean soil and water – no contamination
4. A permit for a well
5. A building permit
6. To be mortgage-free

What we desire (or “The Wish List”):

1. To be as self-sufficient as possible, and then extend ourselves/our product(s) to others
2. To build our own straw bale/cob house
3. To grow food for as much of the year as possible (hoop house a must)
4. To be a destination
5. To be surrounded by wilderness – no traffic, birds and bees please
6. To have a view that gives us a sense of place
7. To have wonderful neighbors
8. To be near a fabulous community with lively, witty, fascinating characters
9. To experiment with various hobbies/trades/endeavors which excite us

Could Baddeck Farm at least meet our needs, if not please our desires? As it turns out, this Cape Breton acreage is not ours. We’re not certain it was just right for us for the price we would ultimately have to pay. We suspect the sellers aren’t serious about selling (it’s been on the market for a year), and decided to let it sit. Plus, in the meantime we discovered that it’s even cheaper to buy farmland in PEI… a new spanner in the works?!

So for now, we’re enjoying summer’s bounty right here in Victoria. One thing is certain, however: we’re closer to knowing where we’ll likely end up. PEI will require an investigation in March, along with the other potential location. Then we will have narrowed it down to three runners up. The big, exciting task will be finding our farm!

I’ve got some ‘splaining to do. Locavore posts have gone by the wayside, not just because it’s summer and the sun shines everyday here in Victoria but because Roddy and I have been in the midst of some pretty major future planning.

It all started with MLS – the all-consuming database of property for sale in Canada. Hours upon hours have been spent by the pair of us on this website searching vacant land everywhere from secluded Gulf Islands to the Atlantic coast. The land acquisition plan was integral to our goal of living off the land – Roddy’s burning desire to be self-sufficient mingled with my yearning to grow veggies. It didn’t take long for Roddy to discover the wonderously affordable options for acreage in Nova Scotia. But, having done my time in the east during my undergrad, the last thing I wanted to do was hit the rewind button… it just felt, well, like backtracking.

In the spring, I was tipped off to a promising option for aspiring farmers. Farm Folk City Folk, a fabulous Vancouver non-profit, has teamed up with The Land Conservancy to establish the Community Farm Program, which pairs keen young farmers with land held in the Agricultural Land Reserve (ALR) or leased land from older farmers. New farmers procure long-term (40+ year) leases to work the land and create their own business plans. The best part: a group of people work the land together so that leisure time is valued as much as bread labour. Roddy and I are on the database of people looking to be matched up with a farm on Vancouver Island. But we’re also impatient.

So, after much arm twisting, last month I found myself suggesting that we fly out to Nova Scotia to see what we find and how we FEEL out there. The Annapolis Valley was the first stop. It’s supposed to be the agricultural zone in NS. We thought it was beautiful, open, and welcoming. But then we moved on to Cape Breton and the Valley was suddenly eclipsed. Cape Breton (above) is wild, dynamic, fresh and breathtaking. And we found a place… stay tuned!

I’ve moved four times over the past year and half and I’m about to do it again. Next weekend I’ll pack up my precious few belongings and our two wee cats and take a five hour journey across the Straight of Georgia to Victoria, where Roddy and I will be reunited after 6 months in different cities. The long commute for bi-weekly visits was unsustainable and as our dreams merged to one of self-sufficiency and community farming, it became clear that opportunities were more abundant on the island.

So I’ve had my hands full and my mind preoccupied with preparations for this exciting new chapter in our lives (hence the blogging absence). I’ll be transitioning to working from home for the David Suzuki Foundation and Roddy and I will able to put “Operation: Locavore” into full swing!