the tiny wood workshop

Remember last week when I wrote that I couldn't wait for the day when I looked out of the lounge-room window and saw smoke billowing from the little chimney in the side of the little wood workshop? Well on Wednesday it happened.

At first I squealed with delight. And then I couldn't just stand there watching now could I? Nope, I pulled on my boots, grabbed my basket and blanket and made my way out there to join him.

And with the fire burning golden in the pot-belly, sunlight streaming in through windows that framed the Wombat State Forest, his tools hanging from hooks and perched on ledges, it felt like the most magical little workshop on earth.

After he spent some time moving in we got to work. Him with his axes and knives carving and me with some yarn and a hook crocheting his blanket. 

99% of the time crochet and knitting is such clean and portable work. When it's warm I love nothing more than to perch on a log or laze on a blanket outside and do a couple of rows, and when the cold comes I quickly take it inside. But wood work is different. It's a fair weather friend. It's messy and it's for outside only. And that doesn't seem quite fair. 

This solution, the little workshop, keeps him warm, creating and happy.

It doesn't hurt that he's shifted in a comfy chair just for me. 

In any case plans are afoot for my very own cubby-studio. A four by four room made from old windows and wood. Fully insulated, and heated complete with day-bed. Watch out I may just forget to go home.

So this past week has been a much happier one than the last. I felt like I'd been driving through the forest on a cold foggy morning when finally I came out into a clearing and the fog disappeared, the view was far and clear, and the light felt just right.

In reality nothing's changed, it's still winter, it's still ridiculously cold if not colder, the girls are limping towards their last day of school for the term, and sometimes my face aches just from walking outside. But I guess my dark cloud time was up. I'd done the days.

It always interests me how much more attention my sadder posts get. I wonder if it's because happy posts just skim the surface? If the online world is so full of people''s beautiful moments that the ugly one's stand out? If reading about other people's real and imperfect lives feels more relateable than the pretty ones and makes us feel less alone? Or if there's nothing much to say to someone who's traveling along well, while someone who is struggling can use advice, empathy and kindness.

Whatever the reason, just know that I always love your feedback on the good and the bad, and as always am grateful that you visit and read and comment. Thank you. xx

Which brings me to today and to now and to a quick rundown of all the other stuff that's happening.

I'm still crocheting that blanket. It's thick and it's soft and it's going to be so warm when I'm done. 

I'm listening to my fabulous friend Lainie Chait AKA Electro Girl speaking about living with epilepsy on Life Matters. What a cool human you are Lainie xx

I'm feeling excited about the winter school holidays. A break from the driving and crazy long school hours. Some sleep in's, some bonfires, some bush walks and of course some basketball.

I'm thinking a lot about what a difference positivity makes. 

I'm hearing the birds having a party in the garden and worrying about them eating all of the green manure seed.

I'm watching Miss Pepper make her theatrical debut in Hollow, a story of the events that surrounded the disappearance of three young boys in the forest of Daylesford 150 years ago.

After reading so many of your comments urging me to read some lighthearted books for my state of mind, I'm reading 'Anything Is Possible'. It's completely lovely even though at times it's sad and raw and honest. Each chapter tells the story of a person in a small town in America coping with life and love and loss. It's such a sweet book. At first it feels like the chapters are separate stories, but as you read more it becomes apparent that the places and stories and characters mentioned are often intertwined, which makes them feel familiar, and ties them all together, in effect making it one big story made up of lots of little bits - just like a small town I guess.

I'm loving sitting in farmer Bren's new workshop next to the fire, sipping tea, writing my blog while he works on his lathe turning a bowl right next to me.

I'm worried about the cat's new hobby playing in the toilet. Yuk!

Now that I think of it, I'm busting to go to the toilet but I can't be bothered going back inside.

I'm wishing that my onion seedlings will come up even though I think it's been far too long since I planted them to expect anything.

I'm thrilled by the fact that in the time it's taken me to write this blog, farmer Bren has fixed his pole lathe into place and carved a bowl from a chunk of wood. That's the bowl in the first photo on this blog. So cool right! In the photo above he's cleaning up the nib where the mandrel was attached. This afternoon he'll give it to his Mum as a present.

Until two days ago that wood was part of a Blackwood tree growing in one of the rows of one of our apple orchards. I've been asking Bren to cut it down for the past five years. Only now can I see that maybe he was just waiting for it to thicken up and become useful.


And finally I'm wishing you my sweet friends a peaceful weekend. May you be warm enough, feel strong enough and have something to look forward to.


Lots of love,

Kate  xx