While we were away travelling around the countryside, I don't know how many times I heard the phrases "you've really inspired me" and "you've changed my life", but it was a lot.  I feel grateful that people connect with my writing and decide to live more simply because that will eventually change them in many profound ways. I listened carefully to those stories. I heard about moving from two incomes to one, leaving a secure but unhappy corporate life for a simpler one, couples knuckling down to pay off debt, 20-somethings learning how to cook from scratch and bake, women and men being brave enough to go against what friends were doing and reject consumerism, people being made capable and productive by learning traditional skills, and being surprised that there is an alternative to mainstream life that many didn't know about. I was inspired by all of it. I've come back with renewed commitment, eager to settle into my home and live a life that I know is good for me and will see me through my days.

I thought a lot about those stories while I drove long country miles and they helped me put my own life into perspective. Sometimes it takes distance to see something so familiar up close. I realised that listening to those stories confirmed my own decision to simplify and gave me a renewed and stronger commitment. Now that I'm back here I've been reassessing the lay of the land, making sure that what I do is right for us, checking that not a moment is lost and planning for the right balance of productivity and slowness in my home.

The quietness here belies my plans. I have a deep freezer to rebuild and have started that already, there is a kitchen garden to plan and plant, passionfruits, chillies, rosellas and raspberries to pick and process and there are many sewing and knitting projects waiting. I have countless hours of grandmothering to enjoy. And in the years ahead I will live a life that will slow and then stop, so I have a death to prepare for. I won't write about all those things in books but I'll write about them here, because writing helps me grasp the superficial issues while understanding and coming to terms with the deeper and more difficult parts too.



I've been watching the ABC series Jack Irish. I had to catchup when I returned home and yesterday I saw the final episode. This wild, violent and chaotic series ended in a quiet natural setting with the main characters speculating about the fate of a racehorse. The last words they spoke could have been aimed at all of us - we people who choose to live outside the mainstream bubble.

"Everyone deserves a bit of space, something to chomp on and a bit of quiet time to do what they bloody feel like. There's not much more to it than that, eh."

It's been a quietly busy few days here. I finished my blue swap sewing, worked in the garden, baked bread and a cake, made a quick quiche which fed us for two days, watered the garden when I gave up all hope of rain, finally booked an appointment to have a haircut and did the hundred other unnoticed but necessary things that make up a day.

I smiled when I just read what I'd written. It seems like so little was done and yet it filled my days not only with activity but with satisfaction and contentment as well. There was a time when I would have thought I was wasting time doing what I've been doing, a time when only busyness counted. Well, I'm more enlightened now. Now I value each moment. I've stopped rushing and I'm just as committed to enjoying what I do as I am about the productivity of my hours. Life's too short for anything else.

In the old days I would have known I had a certain task to complete - let's say it was my swap sewing - and I would have planned it out, cut it out, spent time at the machine sewing, ironed what I'd made and within half a day, I would have finished the job. HA! Not now. Many of you know I now have my sewing machine set up next to my computer and so before I sat down to make the last blue item, I searched for some music to listen to and watch on You Tube. I settled on the funeral music of country  music legend George Jones, yes, the funeral music, then readied myself to listen to Alan Jackson singing He stopped loving her today. Not the most popular music but oh my, it was beautiful - I was captured by the emotion as much as the words.  As it turned out, I listened to that particular song about 10 okay, 30 times. Long term readers will know I've referred to myself before now as the ageing equivalent of a box full of monkeys being let loose in the jungle. This is another manifestation of that. We are all many people rolled into one and this is a small example of my obsessive self.  It surfaces fairly frequently. ;- )

So, I had the music ready and was just about to start sewing when my good friend Kathleen messaged me. I have phone messages set up on my computer too, so we had a long chat, in between stitches, cutting, snipping and listening to Alan singing sadly for old George and watching a bit of flat foot dancing on the porch. It took me three or four times longer than it should have to finish my project but the enjoyment factor was sky-high. I was smiling and ready for anything.

Of course I had many other things I could have been doing but I came away from that sewing machine feeling that I'd looked after myself and given myself the time to enjoy those hours. Sometimes it's not so much about what is produced but the feeling the production gives you. That is the true gift and there will be days when that gift will carry me through a bad day and help me continue this journey of simplicity. And even though some people would look at me there, madly re-listening to Alan singing for George, and taking longer, much longer, than the job needed, sometimes we all need to embrace the mad feelings we have, invest that time and craziness in ourselves and then reap the rewards.

What craziness do you get up to? :- )

I should not complain. I know that. But here I go again. I want my old routines back. Once upon a time I had this very comfortable routine where I rose early, did a few outside tasks, had breakfast, made the bed, cleaned the kitchen and had bread on the rise before 9am. Starting each day with that unremarkable jumble of activities set me up for the day and seemed to launch me into hours of productivity and, occasionally, creativity.

Work was done, ordinary days were lived, life was simple.

Let me say before it's too late to include it that I know I'm fortunate to have the extraordinary opportunity to write a book. Knowing it's going to be read by a lot of people all over the world still makes me think: who? me!!  My publisher, Penguin Random House, is incredibly supportive. And yet I can hardly wait until the writing phase is over and I'm back to what I think of as my real life.

I long to get back to ordinary days just doing what needs doing around my home. I want to use my sewing machine to make what we need, I want to clean up my green house and repot baskets and pots and increase the number of plants on my front verandah until we can hardly move out there. I want to sit, read and talk to Jamie. This beautiful age will be over soon and maybe I'll forget that he makes me laugh by saying: "that's marvellous" or "it's bad news, grandma." He's so wise as his just turned four year old self, I want to pick his brain for more unforgettable things. I have much to tell him too.

I'm glad there is only a short time to go. In four weeks I'll be finished. Four weeks and my written message to you will be at Penguin with Jo and Andrea and they'll send it to the designer, send me samples and I'll become excited and proud once again. So maybe it's okay to be an old curmudgeon this one time - get it all out and then settle in for the final four weeks. I am really happy I chose a short writing period and met every deadline. And soon I'll have that book in my hands and know that putting my routines aside for six months was a small price because it will give us the chance to travel around again, talking to people and hopefully encouraging everyone to work to routines and be happy doing it.  ♥︎

Earlier in the week we shared what we love about our homes and the work we do there. I thank you all for sharing your incredible stories; I thought many of them were inspirational and I'm sure other readers did too. Now let's carry on highlighting what we love about our simple lives. Today we're going out to the backyard to examine what we love out there. You may be growing fruit and vegetables, you might have chickens, pigs, goats, a house cow or bees. Or are you harvesting water, generating electricity or recycling? We want to know what you're doing in your backyard, why you're doing it and why it's important. It's much easier to sit and read a book so why do you want to work outside instead? I hope some of the men join in today. I know you're out there. :- )


I'll lead off. You've seen photos of our backyard and will have probably have noticed the line of trees along the back boundary, behind the chicken run. That is a creek that defines the back boundary of our property, and along that creek runs a thick line of remnant rainforest. That rainforest and the fences on each side seem to embrace us and anyone in the backyard. It gives a feeling of seclusion and privacy and I count myself very lucky to be able to produce food in that space. I love the feeling of being self-contained here, that we can grow food, keep chickens, harvest water, make things out of scraps, use what we produce to keep our grocery bill lower than average and take advantage of the land we live on. Making our land productive gives us better value for the money we spent buying this place.

But I think the main thing is the feeling I get when I walk out there. There is a feeling of connection, that we're improving this land, increasing its fertility, encouraging microbes to grow in the soil along with the vegetables and knowing that partnership benefits the plants, the soil and us. I love that such a productive area is also very beautiful and that I can sit out there, work, pick things, invite people around, enjoy my family there or just sit alone and think under the elder tree and no one can come along and tell me to leave. When I produce good food in my backyard it makes me feel capable and reliable and that what we're doing here has more significance than just mucking about in the backyard. There is purpose here.



I like the idea of being self-reliant too. We harvest water from the roof and it is enough water to tend the garden, keep the chickens alive and clean everything out there. We are able to harvest and store 15,000 litres and therefore do not taking any water from the local dam for our outdoor activities and tasks.  We make our own hot water in the solar water system on the roof and using the solar panels beside it, we shape our lives to cut down on electricity and get by with that small system. In the two years since we had it installed we've paid only one small bill. We don't want to make money with our solar panels, we just want to live how we live without paying electricity bills. We try to recycle and compost as much as we can so the burden of disposing of our waste is not entirely on the local council. I know we pay good money for them to do that but I believe it's up to us to do as much as we can ourselves.

The icing on the cake is walking inside with a basket brimming with fresh eggs and organic vegetables and eating those vegetables minutes after they've been picked. Yesterday I picked three organic oranges from the tree and filled a glass with the juice. In less than five minutes, that drink was gone. I felt healthy just drinking it and I know that even if I had a million dollars, I could not have bought a better drink than that. And it all comes from our backyard.

I'm eager to read about your backyard too, or your food growing.  This is not about cooking the food, that will come soon, it's about your backyard, what you do out there and the feeling you get by doing it.

Most of us live on the edge. Although we live in cities, suburbs, rural towns and out in the middle of nowhere, we choose to live apart from what is considered to be "normal" nowadays. Even if we're surrounded by people or close to them, we are living on the edge of the mainstream because we've changed our mindset; we're on a slower and gentler journey.  And it is for that reason that I want to encourage you all to highlight what is important to you - to express what you love about the various things we do that others don't.  This is a reminder, or encouragement, if that's what you need today, about the life we live and why we live like this. People in the mainstream have a monotonous stream of information, advertising and peer support about their lifestyle, spending, shopping and fashion. That keeps them going - it reminds them of what they love, what is important to them. If you watch television, listen to the radio, surf the internet, read magazines or walk around the city, you'll see the current constantly changing cultural must haves; the products and services that help people live lives of convenience. 

All that glitters is not gold.

Let's share our own advertisement for a slow and simple life because we won't see it advertised, or if we do it will be the commercialised dumbed-down version of it. This will remind all of us of what we love and why we chose to walk this road less travelled. We don't have "things" to love, ours is more about feelings and self awareness, but we do need to acknowledge it. When we take the time to remember and verbalise what we value, it reminds us of the significance of it.  So let's share what we value about what makes up our simple lives - we'll do it a bit at a time so we're not overwhelmed. And today, let's start with our homes and homemaking. What is important about your home and the work you do there? Let me start it off.

The most important part of home and homemaking to me is that I have a place where I feel safe, comfortable and nurtured, and a place to work. Here in this ordinary brick slab house, at the end of a one lane, dead-end street, I am productive and creative and I think I could live another twenty years and still not be finished with the list of projects I'd like to do right here. When I finish writing these books, I want to start sewing some light quilts and teach myself how to make baskets from some of the materials growing here on our land. I'd like to take up rug making again. I loved it back in the 1980s, I want to get back to it. I want to expand on what I produce in the kitchen, be that main meals, bread, cakes, various drinks or dairy products.  I want to make more soap for gifts and I want to perfect liquid Castile soap. I want to see Jamie and Alex grow up as good strong boys and young men, just like their fathers did. I want to read a lot more. I might adopt a non-deplume and write a novel. Who knows what I will do but I do know that everything I do will be done here, in my home.


Homemaking gives structure and meaning to my days. What I do in my home is important to me and my family. The opportunities here are almost endless and that has created an enthusiasm for life that has been infused into every day. And with each passing day I know the work I do here makes my life better. Some people hate housework. I am grateful to have it and equally grateful to have my home.

There are a lot of other reasons I love being in my home and doing the work required to run it but I'd like to read what you have to say. What's the most important part of homemaking for you? Why do you value your home?  Tomorrow we'll share our stories about another aspect of our lives. I hope you'll join in.