Peter Rabbit

Tomorrow we are going to plant the vegetable garden. There will be plenty of pictures and plenty of pride.

In honor of this, I am thinking of Peter Rabbit and Beatrix Potter. So here’s to them:

WE have a little garden,
A garden of our own,
And every day we water there
The seeds that we have sown.

WE love our little garden,
And tend it with such care,
You will not find a faced leaf
Or blighted blossom there.

Beatrix Potter.

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Precious time

I’m spending a lot of time at the moment listening to slow living pod casts and trying to find a slower more grounded way of life.

We have chosen not to live in a big city for this reason, and we both work within 5km of our homes. We live near the beach; which was a top priority when we were picking moving locations. We have a garden that could hold many more vegetables than it does, and a house that really does feel like home.

But there’s something little and itty bitty inside that still makes me feel I’m not living my truest and slowest life.

One recent podcast I listened to (Slow Living) explored materialism VS experimentalism. This really resonated and thought provoked. Unintentionally I find satisfaction and suffice in the purchase of material items. I’ve really tried to be more ‘mindful’ (OMFG I’m suddenly middle aged and talking mindfulness). About my purchases, and assess their sustainability and environmental impact. But sometimes I find my materialism still there, and I don’t like it at all.

However the concept of replacing materialism with experimentalism is something I love. I think the satisfaction and joy that comes from experiences far outweighs and out cries purchases. And perhaps my unease has come from a really really really busy year where we have had incredible experiences (like beautiful honeymoons and the most incredible wedding) but where unintentional escapes to the beach and camping by the fire have lessened.

And of course, having these experiences takes time and takes money and takes planning and takes car trips and where will Basil go, will Basil come bla bla bla etc etc etc.

I spend Sunday evenings planning the week. I put pilates and runs in, I put dinner plans. I put evenings out and I put evenings in. I feel on top of the week when it is planned. But this is my weekly grind (in a job that I do love) that I’m devoting so much time to, so I wonder why it’s never occurred to me to actually sit down and think about the weekend and what we want (and more importantly, NEED) to get out of our special sabbath days.

Maybe little old 31 year old me does so plan for weekends…

Friday: Birthday dinner with Richie at Tulip. Which I love and am very excited about. This is probably stupid, but does food and wine consumption count as materialism?

Saturday: Drive to Anglesea with Basil and Richie. Walk along Point Roadknight beach, which means a whole lot of things to us for a whole lot of reasons. Smell the ocean air and even try and collect some seaweed for the vegetable garden. Breakfast at McGains nursery among the beautiful greenery, no phones. Just chat. Plant vegetable garden. (Which will involve an annoying reality of getting a truckload of soil in a Ute we don’t own.) Dinner with Jane and Alyce. Trying new local pop up restaurant. Supporting local, sustainable and community.

Sunday: Paint very odd window area above bed in lovely calming green. Long run along the river in preparation of the Great Ocean Road Half Marathon which is VERY close and I am VERY unprepared.

There, that wasn’t so bad. And it all sounds rather lovely. The proof is in the pudding, but as the weekend diary shows – there’s bound to be some pudding…

*For future reference my weekend planners will be known as ‘Too precious time to waste.”