big moments, little pauses and this [im]perfect life

The last few months for me have been epic.
Two jobs, two different cities, a new house and plenty of competing demands to be “managed”.
Working 50-60 hrs a week…often no proper weekend, and my “to-do” list still as long as ever each night I crawl into bed.

It has pushed me, bent me, and at times crushed my resolve but showed me such great wisdom I can’t be anything but grateful.

My head and body hurt at the end of each day  – from the physical challenges of working on a farm again, but also mental demand to keep each of my priorities in order. Naturally schedules have clashed, missed calls remain un-returned and various commitments I’ve made fall by the wayside in place of sleep, work and rest time.

I’ve never felt so out of control yet at the same time so grounded, present and content.

While I washed 3 days worth of dishes at dawn before running out the door to catch a train, it hit me – I laughed out loud –  because I find myself strong, healthy and alive in an imperfect world!??

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Home is a sight I am forever grateful to see. Driving up the drive, I curse out loud when the sheep have got in and eaten the “garden”. I notice the growing pile of leaves that need raking up from the back door, a reminder that summer has been and gone with autumn now in her place. Everyday I think “today’s the day I will clean the cobwebs from the shower”…then proceed to find something else to fill my time with (usually cooking or reading instead!). I’ve embraced the space, the silence, that I’m afforded now that I live in the country…padding up and down the long corridors, eating on the makeshift couch or reading by candlelight tucked up in bed.

“Waverley” is still revealing herself to me, piece by piece. No water for 2 days in the first week I moved in (the tank was empty!) then the power goes out for 3 days (luckily for me, whilst I was in Melbourne for work). There is still plenty of empty rooms and blank walls to decorate, when I find time. Add that to the list…
But with all her kinks and crooked floor boards, with water pipes that clang and doors that don’t quite close; with spider webs adorning the windows and possums fighting on the roof at dusk, my Farmhouse reminds me that the wrinkles and bruises and scars we carry are evidence of a meaningful, rewarding life.

That it is all a “work in progress”, to be refined and polished when we find ourselves growing stronger and more certain of what is true.

Here’s to sitting squarely in our own imperfection and chaos, to learning the true art of building ourselves a content, happy life.

 

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Be careful what you wish for…

For it might just come true! I mean this in the most awe-inspiring, miracles-do-happen and dreams-can-come-true kinda way.

But it nearly didn’t happen…I was almost too scared to take the leap and say “yes” for fear of what may (or may not) come.  Oh so glad I did make the call late in 2013.

(more on this next time)

Because as it turns out, listening to that little voice inside me, saying yes and committing to the move has been the best decision I’ve made in a long time.

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Fast forward to this week, and I’m moving house. And not just any old house…but into  a 90-yr old farmhouse.

My dream farmhouse.
Yes, it’s currently covered in several layers on dust, mice droppings and flies, but this house is alive.

Oh, the stories she could tell!

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I can’t quite begin to explain the feeling I get driving in the driveway, up to my house….and there she sits, a little withered by the harshness of summer but no less impressive in her old age.

I love the wonky floor in the kitchen, sloping away towards the sink. The pot-belly stove tucked away with a peak-a-boo window behind.

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I love padding down the long hallway from the kitchen to my bedroom, noticing the squeaks and gaps in floor boards as they yield under foot after all these years.

I love the five – FIVE! –  fireplaces, the antique door handles and screen doors that don’t quite close properly. The lounge room, large enough and grand enough to hold a gala ball.

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Then there’s a study attached to my bedroom, with built-in book cases and just waiting for a desk to sit under the broad window. Complete with a view across the valley that will certainly prove a lovely distraction from any future work to be done.

There’s the bathroom….ah, maybe you’d call this look “rustic”?
I love it.
(minus the cobwebs)

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I love the pantry. Did I mention the walk-in pantry? Complete with blackboard for list-making and drawing.

And the cellar down below, waiting to be swept out and filled with wine, cheese, preserves and root vegetables.

But the fun’s only just started. Now I must spend a few days sweeping and cleaning and polishing her up. There’s a few things to fix, a few to find, and some big ticket items to buy. There’s a garden to grow, a verandah to sit on and more dreams to realise.

Then I can  begin to make this house in the country a home.

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