I drool just thinking about rhubarb. I’m a huge fan of tart fruit in baking, jams, compotes, or just blobbed onto yogurt or ice cream. Raspberries, gooseberries: anything that makes me pucker. But rhubarb is my favourite, and it’s the first local fruit to make an appearance in the locavore calendar year.

Jenny and Philip have a beautiful bushy patch in their “field” at Backyard Farm. Roddy and I got a sizable haul after transplanting Jenny’s baby lettuces, and it went straight into rhubarb muffins (wheat-free and dairy-free). I adapted this recipe from Canadian Living and they’re the perfect tea time treat.

Rhubarb Muffins
Servings: 18 muffins

2 ½ cups rice flour
1 tsp baking soda
½ tsp salt
1 cup packed golden sugar
½ cup walnut oil
1 egg from next door
1 cup soy milk (with dash of vinegar)
1 tsp almond extract
2 cups chopped rhubarb

Topping:
½ cup packed brown sugar
1 tbsp butter, melted
½ tsp cinnamon

Prep:
In large bowl, combine flour, baking soda and salt.
In separate bowl, blend sugar and oil; whisk in egg, soy milk and almond extract. Stir into dry ingredients along with rhubarb just until flour is incorporated. Spoon into greased or paper-lined muffin tins, filling ¾ full.

Topping:
Combine sugar and cinnamon and sprinkle over batter. (My batter was quite wet because I swapped all purpose flour for rice flour, so I added my topping after the muffins had baked for 10 minutes. I also didn’t add butter to my topping because I’m preserving what we have – but I’ll include it next time)

Bake in 350 degree F (180 C) for 20-25 minutes or until toothpick inserted into centre comes out clean (mine needed 25 mins). Let cool in tins for 10 minutes before removing to cool completely.

Please pass on tips for making these muffins even more local (how much honey/maple syrup would you substitute for sugar, have you found a local flour producer, and obviously local milk is better than soy - perhaps my gut can handle raw milk?)

This may be the last time in a long time that Roddy and I are transplanting lettuce seedlings into a plot in April. We’ll be leaving the milder west coast climate for the more extreme seasons of Southern Ontario, where transplants to field in April are uncommon.

We’re happy to help Jenny and get a refresher on the process. She follows some tenets of biodynamic, or French Intensive, farming. This method is new to us, and we’ve been studying our loaned copy of John Jeavons’ How to Grow More Vegetables to aid our education.

I have a feeling this method may be too time consuming on a larger scale. At some point we’d like to be growing fruit and veggies on all or most of our new 2 acre field. The techniques I’m more familiar with are those touted by Eliot Coleman in The New Organic Grower. My summer working Mike’s 2 acre field on Thurston Organic Farm was my first foray into organic farming, and Mike farmed by Coleman’s rules. Roddy’s and my interlude at Backyard Farm is an excellent opportunity for us to discover different techniques.

These baby lettuce seedlings are getting the biodynamic treatment. They’ve been planted to create triangles between the rows, the logic being that once they’ve filled out, the lettuce itself will serve as a mulch. The plants will grow close enough together to block out potential weeds. This method also allows for more food in a smaller area, hence “intensive.”

Perhaps our farm will be a hodgepodge of different farming methods? One thing’s certain: we’re keen students and all ears for advice!

Ahhhhhh! A lovely Friday afternoon it was. Sun was shining, birds were chirping, and we were taking our time winding through the trails in the Governor’s Gardens near our house.

The Garry Oak ecosystem here is striking. Their knarly trunks and branches create such a moody effect.

On our slow stroll we stopped to take a closer look at the delicate native forest flowers, like these Fawn Lillies.

We also stumbled upon a forager’s jackpot: a hillside brimming with tasty Miner’s Lettuce or Winter Purslane (see top photo, and below). This annual edible plant is native to Western Coastal regions, and is so named because the gold rush miners ate it to get their dose of vitamin C to prevent scurvy. We eat it because it’s delicious, local and free! Our haul went into a simple salad, but the fleshy plant can also be steamed like spinach.

While I filled a bag, Roddy quietly trod ahead and found two Black Tailed Deer sleeping on the forest floor. I wonder if they shared the same romantic dinner for two last night?

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!

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)!

We haven’t just been lazing about in my absence. Quite the contrary. I’ve been getting my hands dirty at Backyard Farm.

While I did some quick research on potting mix recipes, I threw caution to the wind and made my mix like I make dinner: a little bit of this, a dash of that. My recipe was approximately 3 parts composted manure, 1 part earth, 1 part peat moss, and a of cup of bone meal. But it was all by eye, and I can’t be completely sure that this is the correct ratio because I mixed it three weeks ago.

I’ve also been planting seedlings. I’ve got Juliet tomatoes in those flashy tray-less cubes shown above: no guesswork on re-potting here - when the roots are exposed it’s time for a pot upgrade. I’ve also started my Red Bull’s Horn peppers, cress, and parsley in Jenny’s greenhouse. Jenny and I are sharing seeds, so wherever there are blanks in my seed line-up, she’ll fill them. Aren’t neighbors fantastic?!

Roddy’s been manning the direct seed front lines. Check that attention to detail in the trenches! In a couple of months we’ll have a lovely row of Mammoth Melting Sugar peas, and a row of Oregon Trail shelling peas weaving their way up our trellis fence. Roddy also planted a couple of rows of Westlandse Winter kale at the bottom of our garden. Mmmm, kale chips.

And in between spells in the garden, we’ve been awestruck by the abundance of new life.

These fat new Horse Chestnut leaves bursting out of their buds tell it all: new life is in motion, and massive change is brewing. We have big news to tell, but I’m waiting for the right moment to spill the beans.

How can you blame me for my absence? I’m powerless to the gossamer wonderland that seems to span all of Victoria. I stand underneath the cherry trees with my head tilted back, mouth ajar. Passers by understand. We nod in acknowledgment of the blinding beauty that surrounds us.

They started blooming weeks ago, but they’re bursting now. And the delicate flowers come in waves on different streets, so the wispy petticoats will be showing off for weeks to come.

I don’t know how any work gets done in this city during cherry blossom season. I’ve managed to hold onto a job in this recession, but it’s taking all my power to stay firmly seated at my desk when all I want to do is float away into a blossom dreamland.