SUMMER in the High Country can be unpredictable.

Some years, it arrives in full force; other years, it barely makes an appearance.

This time, there’s no doubt—summer is well and truly here!

With the warm days come long hours of work on the homestead.

It’s the busiest season, bringing new life and endless tasks.

Calves are being born, the sheep need shearing, and the hay must be cut, baled, and carted.

At the same time, the vegetable garden demands attention, and preserving food for the colder months becomes a priority.

As a single mum with no income, self-sufficiency isn’t just a choice—it’s a necessity.

We grow what we can, preserve what we don’t eat, and barter or sell our surplus.

A few neighbours buy our eggs, and that small income helps cover essentials we can’t produce ourselves, like toiletries and laundry supplies.

But we haven’t always lived this way.

Ten years ago, I was living in inner-city Melbourne.

We had a big veggie garden, a few chatty chickens clucking about, and I spent my weekends elbow-deep in soil.

While that part of my life felt wholesome and grounding, something was... missing.

I worked in the same place for 25 years (yes, twenty-five years).

And while I loved it once, by the end, it was just a slog.

You know how it is—staying because it’s what you’re supposed to do.

Because everyone else does it.

Because it’s safe.

But one day at work, something clicked.

Or snapped?

Maybe both.

I knew I’d been wanting to leave for ages.

But there was always one more thing to do first:

I’ll just pay off the credit card.

I’ll just pay off the car loan.

I’ll just fix the roof on the house so I can get a better price at auction...

“I’ll just do this, I’ll just do that, I’ll just…”

I’d been saying that for over a decade!

Suddenly, I saw it for what it was—fear.

Fear of failure.

Fear of the unknown.

Fear of change.

And then I had this flash-forward moment.

Imagining myself at 80 or 90, looking back and saying,

“Wow, what a life! Fifty years of filing invoices in an admin job you hated.”

Nope.

I couldn’t do it.

So, I called a real estate agent right there, in the middle of my workday.

By that evening, my house was on the market…

We brought our chickens with us from the city when we moved.

And then had to get more as we found on the first night, the chicken coop wasn’t as fox-proof as we thought.

About two months later, we bought a small flock of Black Suffolk Sheep.

And that flock grew and grew in size.

I started saving for some cattle.

It took me three years to save up enough to buy six steers.

I kept them for two years, sold them, and bought twelve…

Over the years, I had to completely relearn everything I ‘thought’ I knew about gardening.

It was quite different to what I was used to—to mean, we have snow in winter!

Life here isn’t easy, but it’s rewarding.

And I would love to share our journey with you—the challenges, the triumphs, and the small victories that make it all worthwhile.

There will always be lots of sheep, cow, and chicken stories to share.

And my DIY ‘skills’ are regularly put to the test with suspect fixes and harebrained schemes.

One thing’s for sure, with over 160+ acres, we are always busy.

And I love a challenge!

Until next time.