My blogs about food are about to be introduced to Matty's wonderful website about eating locally, http://www.localontario.ca.

In the few months that we've been out here, it has become increasingly apparent to me that getting our food from a few miles around where we live is quickly becoming a necessity again.

We're lucky that we can do that so easily here: the surrounding landscape is teeming with food (not only animals and fish, but also edible wild plants, like the delicious fiddleheads that come up in the Spring or the giant rhubarb patch in my back yard), we are surrounded by family farms, live only a few miles from the "animal exchange" centre, and have the facilities to raise and nurture our own food, whether it be animals, dairy, eggs, vegetables, nuts or fruit. What we can't get from our direct neighbor, we must venture to the supermarket for; but living in close contact with the people who dedicate their lives to making our food has recently made me hyper-aware of the importance to at least buy Canadian product. In certain cases, this is impossible (i.e. I don't think I'm about to stop drinking coffee or start my own plantation). Nonetheless, understanding where our food comes from and what's involved in making it and getting it to our tables may alter our eating habits.

Apparently, a basic meal averages a travel distance of 2400 km before being served on a plate in Canada. Think of all the pollution and emissions, as well as the oil costs related to that travel. Add to that the fact that the time for travel greatly reduces the freshness of the produce, thus reducing the taste and nutritional value of our food.

Just as important to me is the packaging issue. It drives me nuts to see all my food wrapped in plastic. Plastic that will just end up in garbage island one day (see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Pacific_Garbage_Patch)... The worst is the supermarket meat, with its Styrofoam tray, plastic wrap and most repulsive absorbent pad that lines the tray. The meat I buy from my neighbor - or the meat you can buy at your farmer's market - is neatly wrapped in a brown wax paper, which will rapidly biodegrade in one way or another. Styrofoam egg trays? Foods wrapped in plastic, then plastic again and again? Would you like a plastic bag with that?

Perhaps what I love most about eating local foods is the lack of packaging and the ensuing reduction of garbage output. The animals and the compost consume all of our food-based garbage and we end up putting out one small blue box of cans and plastic for recycling and a small black garbage bag every two weeks, which we pay a $1 fee for. My goal is to one day be able not to put out that recycling box at all.

Trying to eat locally all year long might prove a bit more difficult, but it helps put you in tune with the seasons and their various tastes. You can always use different food preserving methods to enjoy the fruits of your labour throughout the cold winter months - which is what I intend to learn how to do over the next few years. They say it's not as difficult as it seems!

Shot Through the Heart, and You're to Blame: You Give Love a Bad Name

So a few days after Anthony generously offered to help start our flock, I woke up one morning to find that their water was covered by a sheet of ice. I was horrified by the thought that my beloved chickens might get frostbite or suffer from nighttime dehydration, so I dutifully went to the Feed & Seed to solve our little problem.

I walked in and the wifey wasn't there, but the kind old husband was. I asked about a water feeder and heater. He pointed to the feeder and, looking slightly embarrassed, advised me to start with the feeder and maybe, once frost took over, to then come for the heater. I dramatically announced that the water was freezing already so he graciously pulled out his step ladder and climbed up to fetch the heater. Once down, he struggled to find the price as the thing was covered in an inch of dust. When he brushed off the dust with his fingers, he uncovered a price of $75.00 and looked at me very awkwardly. "I'll take it!" I said, after which I hurried to ask about heating lamps. Very awkwardly again, he directed me to the back of the store, and after searching for a minute or two, found a heat bulb. Then, so kindly and gently, advised me that the birds are fine in cold weather and that I truly don't need to provide them with additional warmth, and that all we really need to worry about is drafts.

I thanked him for the advice, paid for the feeder and heater, and went home, so proud of my purchase.

When I got home, Stuart flipped when I told him I spent $75 on a water heater for the chickens that give us $0.25 per day of eggs. So, realizing my error, I suggested he bring it back, with the excuse that his wife is from the city. The man at the Feed & Seed looked relieved as he gave Stuart back our money.

I guess livestock aren't city pets.

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So, early last Friday morning, I left to go work in Toronto for the weekend. I was very sad to leave my hens behind as they were just beginning to trust me enough to eat out of my hands. I had a nice weekend in the city, visiting some of my dear friends. I called Stuart once to make sure that he was giving the hens their greens and oyster shells. He assured me that he had done it.

When I came home Sunday afternoon, Stuart was absent but the dogs were ecstatic to see me and I kissed them and cavorted with them a bit. I then headed straight for the bird house to check if there were any eggs waiting for me. What I found was a bunch of feathers and no hens.

Chico is the devil - in disguise. 

The poor birds succumbed after the evil-dog dug himself into the coop. Poor Stuart had to deal with the messy situation. We were ALL traumatized and very sad about our failure to care for this lovely and amazing gift.

 

I cried all night. I was shot through the heart. Welcome to farm life, Anthony said to comfort me.

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We've got two new hens, generously given to us by Matt, who knew how devastated I would be to have lost my prized birds. Stuster the Rooster is much happier now then he'd been these past few days. He just didn't know what to do with himself without any women around, and had taken to sleeping in one of their nests. The ducks also seem to take comfort in the arrival of the new gals. I won't name the new hens until I'm sure that they'll be my friends for a while. Some reparations to the chicken coop are in order now. Work work work. But lots of play too.

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Today, we bought a couple of piglets to grow for a New Year's dinner. They are well settled in their pig sty at Matty's.

Yummy.

Watch for your next Country Life update soon.

Life in the Country

Stuart and I feel like we've finally come home.

Where is this neurotic woman you guys all know? I feel like she might have gone away for ever. I never realized until now how claustrophobic the city made me feel. That the city was the root of most of my anxieties. Life here is slow and steady, with always a task to be done but no stress involved. New and old friends have been welcoming us with open arms and offering more help than we really need. Were so grateful! And its always good to be able to return the favor.

Yesterday, we got invited to help with the cattle drive at a friend's farm. Ive never been so close to a cow (or a bull) before! I must admit that I found their enormous size unnerving, but I soon realized that they were much more afraid of me, a stranger, than I was of them. A two and a half ton bull skittered past me like I was a wolf in sheep's clothing. So strange!

Emma and Chico are in Paradise here. Though the road is close to the house and cars go by at 80 clicks and hour here, they are allowed to roam free. Its amazing how quickly they learned the boundaries of their territory and remain within them. We have a new barn cat. He just showed up one day to eat from the compost pile and I set him up a little bed and some food in the barn. We don't see him much because of the dogs, but I've had three sightings so far. The food is always gone in the morning, but for all I know, raccoons are eating it. When I've seen him five times, i'll name him.

I've never been an early riser, but my favorite thing nowadays, is to rise at 6:30 and head outside in my nightgown and a warm coat to have my first cigarette while watching the sun rise over the hill and the ground frost melt in the shape of the barn.

 

We finally bought a clothes drier last week as it's become too rainy and cold to hang clothes on the line. The drier was delivered to our door in 30 minutes with this:

(the note says: "Thanks for buying from Smitty's Appliances, I do appreciate your business. And welcome to the area. Please come back. A little treat on Smitty."

 I love the country!

So we also set up our new wood stove yesterday. Stuart made a beautiful slate base for it. now were really warm and we can save on oil! It is so very exciting!

Working hard and living good.

We dit it!

It didn't take long for us to make our decision.

The question was: What about moving to the countryside?
 
"We're such city people though... lived in the city all of our lives... Edinburgh, Montreal, and now Toronto. We'd get bored in no time in the country without all the urban excitement Toronto provides. Wait a minute... what do we actually do in the city? We wake up, walk our dogs, go to work, come back exhausted, make some dinner, watch some mind-numbing tv and go to sleep. Over, and over, and over again."

Sure, there's the occasional band we like to see, the occasional night out for sushi... maybe an art show here and there, but really, Stuart and I prefer to avoid crowds like the plague.

"What about work?" Our line of work is gardening, landscaping, and construction. Scary to move the whole operation to a new place, with no contacts. But we've never been the kind of people to be frightened about turning a new leaf. We're experts at it, actually.

There was just no way under the sun that we could ever have been able to afford a house in Toronto. Our future as it was unfolding: barely staying afloat paying exorbitant rent, year after year, until we wouldn't even be able to afford our crappy apartment with the tiniest yard you've ever seen (at least we had a yard, maybe in a few years from then, we wouldn't even have been able to afford a yard at all).

So with a bit of coaxing from our best friend, we took the plunge and called a real-estate agent. We fell in love with Hillcrest Farm, the second house we saw, and within a month we were living in the midst of rolling farmlands and wildlife conservations. The only thing we would miss, really, is our amazing roster of friends.

This is my blog about the trials and tribulations of a full-on city girl moving to the country.