When I crawled into bed last night and shut my eyes, exhausted and buzzing from two and a half full days, phantom base lines were still beating in my ears. So many highlights and I don’t have the stamina for complete sentences…

Best music:

:: Grand Analog

:: Horse Feathers

:: Shad

:: Royal Wood

:: Brasstronaut

:: Alex Cuba

:: Sunday morning Gospel Hour with Sarah Harmer, Frazey Ford, Horse Feathers, Basia Bulat, The Good Lovelies & Sam Doores

(so wish I hadn’t missed Matt Andersen, Beardyman and Shane Koyzcan but my oh my revelers are spoiled for choice with four stages and 67 bands)

Best of the rest:

:: Friday sunset and good laughs with old and new friends

:: farm sleepovers and breakfasts with most amazing Marianne, Tim, Heidi, Emily and Bo

:: Saturday rain and mud - ankle-deep and so many pairs of gorgeous mucky barefeet!

:: sparky mid-afternoon sunshine buzz courtesy of my local - Wellington Brewery

:: Main Stage living roof, solar-powered Sun Stage, water tanker of Guelph tap water, reusable dishes and wash stations

:: Mapleton Organics ice cream - oh the power of suggestion at work with sun-kissed beauties licking dripping waffle cones

:: baby Wyatt - just the most playful eight-month old and helping round out the next generation of Hillside lifers

:: solid Sunday sunshine mingled with Guelph Lake breezes

:: intimate and interactive jam sessions and musicians chilling out in the grass next to revelers (Hello Sarah Harmer! Would you like to share my ice cream cone?)

:: Bollywood dance lesson (please, please bring classes to Guelph!)

Until next year, Hillside, I’m so grateful you’re in my backyard!

I was actually tempted to stay at the farm to get my tall tomatoes in the garden but I couldn’t spend my birthday alone. Best to be with sisters Cathie and Tori on the eve of my day at Tori’s fantastic ‘Iterations’ closing party (all the better with delicious Venezuelan arepas).

And with sis and Nancy for a scrumptious lunch today (love the cow).

Big city plans with urban pals are in the pipe for tonight and simply the best gift ever to anticipate: my first trip to the spa with best friends tomorrow. Freshly brewed ice tea and fine dark chocolate at my side, I’m a happy birthday girl indeed!

:: winter sunsets

:: windows of down time to recoup from a frantic work schedule

:: stimulating Kensington Loft conversations with Tori, Nancy and Roddy of art, architecture and culture spiced up with pop-culture-and-in-stitches YouTube entertainment topped off with homemade French onion soup and wine. The perfect evening really.

:: farm tetris - stacking wood by the fire. The only predicament being that some pieces are just too beautiful to burn

:: Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love (I thought it would be flaky and now I wonder why I waited so long)

:: Nag Champa, bees wax candles and a great reduction in skunk sprayings of late

:: Joseph Campbell and the power of myth - wow, what a brilliant grasp of cultures and the myths that guide them!

:: snow falling in the sunshine

:: a widening circle - a warming Monday night meal with new farmer friends just down the road and Everdale’s new farm manager

:: fireside crop planning and seed shopping

:: the new and the old - the new K-OS album and learning more about Louis Armstrong’s genius

:: hot apple cider with a cinnamon stick

:: my new doctor’s name: Stella Pasion

:: preparations for a warm welcome of farmer friends from Peterborough way for the weekend

Living in the country has brought me up close and personal with three products: wheat, corn and soy. Corn, soy, wheat. Soy, wheat, corn. These three food commodities, which drive our mass produced, processed foods are rife in the countryside! It’s pretty depressing when I think of all the ‘real food’ that could be covering our fields.

At Union Station last week, I was rushing to find a healthy breakfast before my early morning train departed for Montreal. Still bleary eyed and getting desperate, I reached for a V8 Splash but had the sense to read the label first: “water, high fructose corn syrup, …” I stopped there. Isn’t this drink supposed to be loaded with fruit? Why on earth does it need added sugar? Because that’s essentially what high fructose corn syrup is - a chemically produced sweetener made from corn, which is just as sweet as sugarcane but cheaper to process and ship. The concoction is also almost certainly made from genetically modified corn and then processed with genetically modified enzymes. Yuck!

I worked for five hours solid on the train, fueled in part by Fair Trade organic green tea (kudos to ViaRail!), but glanced from my laptop at a stop near Dorval to take in the snowy scenery. I might have just glazed over the writing on these cars, but I love the aesthetic of cargo trains, especially the really old cars. And there I was, face to face with the corn that may have been harvested just down the road from our farm, processed into high fructose corn syrup and traveling to a Coca Cola plant, or destined for V8 perhaps?

I wonder if we’ll see a shift away from the mass production engine in our lifetimes? I sure hope so!

If you’ve ever renovated your home, you know what it’s like to live in complete and utter chaos. In our house, there isn’t a single serene corner that is finished. Someday, fresh cut roses will adorn our tables.

A layer of dust falls over every surface minutes after it’s wiped clean. The rare, centrally-located electrical outlet that’s in service on any given day gets heavy play with a line up of appliances vying for power. The kitchen table is in the living room… next to our bed. It’s usually covered in drywall screws, various tools, packaging, gloves, safety goggles, and unidentifiable objects by dinnertime every day. I wouldn’t be surprised to see Roddy carving a turkey with a reciprocating saw. If I crawl out of bed and take the risk of walking across a room barefoot, I have to wipe off my feet before I climb back into bed. I can’t wait for the day when I can pad across the floor with socks on.

Our new shower isn’t installed yet, so after a sweaty run I retreat to the rudimentary plastic shower taken over by spiders in our basement. If I’ve forgotten to bring my clogs down, I slip into my running shoes and strut in them as if they’re high heels (so that my fresh feet aren’t totally immersed in sweat). I teeter on my running pumps like this up to the bathroom, where I finish my post-shower regimen, and then make my way into “the cold room” (the uninsulated front addition) where our clothes live. I dress in the frigid air, balancing on my runners so I don’t have to come into contact with a filthy floor. Then I realize that my boots aren’t within reach, so I slip back into my stiletto runners and hobble across the house. By the time I’m outfitted from head to toe, I’m freezing. I blow dry my hair in the kitchen, because there’s a functional electrical outlet beside the fruit bowl.

I’ve been able to carve out small tidy pockets of calm in our house, but I am grateful beyond words that our farm is just 10 minutes away from a buzzing community of cleanliness and order. A city that houses a hot yoga studio (my respite) with gorgeous showers. A city where we can eat off spotless surfaces, marvel at painted walls, bountiful electrical outlets, and rest our reno-warn bones for a few hours. Because while we’re loving the fact that we’re making our house our own, we’re not able to kick back and relax within our walls yet.

Need I say more?

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,

Here’s to the lovely bride and groom, Donald and Fran!

They treated us to a mighty party that lasted three days. And I felt like a princess being treated to many novel experiences. Donald and Fran exposed me to my first Medieval castle,

my first sleep in a four poster bed,

my first venison sausage, my first lounging afternoon and evening in a Scottish mansion, and my first “saddle” of rabbit (veeeery gamey, but delicious).

Donald and Fran: your wedding was a treat (and while men in kilts aren’t new to me, they were certainly a highlight)!

This is the second time Roddy and I have sampled the goods at the quaint Aphrodite Organic Café and Pie Shop in Kits. The first time I was drawn by a recommendation that their pies were out of this world. Not being a pie fan, I figured I was the ultimate test subject. Lets just say I made light work of my wedge – it was divine.

Aphrodite’s has the calm effect of sitting in my late grandmother’s spacious country kitchen, without the grime and impending chaos of pattering feet and smelly dogs. Spring is here and as the beams of sunlight struck the checkered floor and warmth flooded over me, something on the delicious menu caught my eye: “From local organic farms, fresh to your plate.”

Our waitress caught me snapping a photo and must have been curious about me (“what does this mortal think she’s doing, stealing recipes of the Godess?). Well, smiling and flattery go a long way and some simple questioning led her tell me that currently the salad greens come from Glen Valley Co-op Farm, just 42 miles from the restaurant. Even though it’s not entirely local (according the waitress) this discovery still made my day.