Roast Dutch Carrots, Carrot Top Salsa Verde & Honey Macadamias
3 Reasons You Should Eat Fresh Corn ASAP!
Roasted Green Beans with Parmesan
Easy Ways To Cook Squash
Why Are We Selling The Farm? Since Our Announcement, We’ve Been Asked This Many Times
Since announcing that we are selling the farm. I’ve been asked many times: Why are you selling the farm? What made you want to pack everything up and hit the road with your family? To be honest, each time I was asked, I still didn’t fully understand why. Six years ago, we packed our bags, left the city, left our comfort zone, and embarked on this farming journey. Are we doing the same thing now or is it different this time? I came to this farm chasing a dream — the romantic idea of a quiet, simple life in the countryside. I pictured a few chickens, some farm animals, kids running barefoot under a golden sunset. That warm, gentle glow of rural life — I thought that was it. I thought I had found my utopia. The first 12 months shattered that illusion.
Dear Incredible Community, We Have Some Very Big News To Share
We can now say without doubt: this model works. Technology has allowed our family to bypass the supermarkets and connect directly with YOU. I sincerely don’t think we fully grasp the full potential of what’s been unlocked. Over the past few weeks, our family has been deep in discussion—reflecting on what we’ve learned, what we know works, what doesn’t work and where we go from here. Now, we feel ready. Ready to share it. Six years ago, we left our jobs in search of something we couldn’t yet quite understand. But we do now, what we desired deep down was simple, it was freedom. Along the way, we’ve experienced the full spectrum of human emotions, crashing over us as frequently as waves along the shore. Like a river finding its way to the sea, we’ve braved the chaotic rapids and gut-wrenching waterfalls—and now find ourselves drifting peacefully along the meandering bends.
Autumn’s Finally Decided To Show Up... Slowing Down Enough To Listen
It’s 3pm, Monday, April 7th. Autumn’s finally decided to show up. The sky is blue again, clear and still, until a gust of wind kicks up dust and dead leaves. I squint as it rushes past, and for the first time in weeks, I feel grateful just to be dry. After all the mud and dying plants, it’s a relief to be squatting in the sun. I’m picking capsicums with my daughters under a big old camphor laurel. A flock of white-headed pigeons are up in the branches, tearing into the ripening black fruit. Every now and then a hawk passes overhead and the whole tree erupts—branches shaking, birds panicking, wings flapping into leaves and branches. Then somehow, within seconds, they’re gliding in perfect formation, like a scene from a fighter jet movie. It’s wild how quickly chaos becomes harmony.