March 2026

Hi, how are you?

Of course, I had grand plans to write here every month, but I just can’t believe that it’s April this week. Crazy.

The last few months have been great—productive and lots of fun. On the family front, Benji celebrated his 50th birthday on the 1st of March. My sister, her husband, Benji and I went to Japan to celebrate. We spent a week there and had the best time. The first few days were spent in Tokyo, and then we took the bullet train to a town called Kanazawa. We hadn’t been before, and it certainly didn’t disappoint. It’s like Kyoto but smaller, with very few tourists. There’s a long history of samurai in the town, and the sites are just stunning. We will definitely return when we go back to Japan.

The morning we flew home, I surprised Benji and had arranged for his family to gather for a weekend at the beach. Eden and her partner flew in as a surprise as well. We spent a couple of days swimming, cooking lots of food, and playing board games. It was just perfect.

From the beach, we drove straight back out to the farm, where we’ve spent the last few weeks. I’ve been working in the garden as we transition from the last of the summer produce into the winter crops. The tomatoes, beans, and zucchini are hanging in there but will probably finish in the next week or so when the real cold comes. The dahlias and zinnias too.

I’ve planted out most of the winter produce—spinach, silverbeet, broad beans, broccoli, cauliflower, kohlrabi, radish, coriander, beetroot, and lettuce.

The chooks are doing okay. I love Freddy the rooster, but the hens are pretty useless, to be honest. They rarely lay, even in the warmer months, and they don’t like scraps. I’m thinking of keeping Freddy but trading the girls for some new hens in the warmer months. I’ll wait and see.

The cattle are doing well, although we haven’t had much rain over summer (which is usually our rainy season), so it’s very dry now. Cattle auctions have been selling stock by the thousands lately, as farmers offload due to concerns about feed. We have 16 head on 50 acres and two dams—one is nearly empty, but the other is about three-quarters full. We also have the bore if we need it.

I’ve spent many of the warmer days inside, in front of the computer. While I was in Japan, I finally decided to start scheduling some events here on the farm. I’ve wanted to do it for a long time, but I was doubting myself and waiting for everything to feel “perfect.” I decided to stop worrying and just give it a go.

I realised the Autumn Festival was only a few weeks away—a big event for Tenterfield that brings in lots of visitors—so I reached out to the coordinator. She was so supportive and offered to help with advertising. Once I got her response, I kind of just jumped in.

I’ve now scheduled a few High Teas in the paddock, long lunches, and workshops. I started with a knitting workshop and will add a gardening one, as well as a Homesteader Experience, where you can come and immerse yourself in farm life for the day.

As I said, I’ve wanted to host events here for a while, but my insecurities have held me back. I’m feeling good now that they’re scheduled and am really looking forward to sharing our farm with people.

The reasons I want to do this are the same as when I started back in Lauriston. It’s about giving people the opportunity to spend time on a farm—to connect with nature, the food they eat, and each other. And maybe learn something new along the way. It feels even more important now, in such a digital world, to create space for real, human connection. Benji and I talk about this a lot. We’re not against AI—we can see its place—but we both feel strongly about protecting that human connection.

I will say, though, that over the past few weeks I’ve also been carrying a kind of heaviness. Watching what’s happening in the world, it’s hard not to feel overwhelmed at times. I’ve found myself feeling quite small in it all—unsure what I can really do, or how to make any difference. It can feel a bit hopeless if I sit in it too long. I don’t have any clear answers, but I do find myself coming back to this place, to the garden, to feeding people, to creating spaces where people can gather. It feels like something. Maybe small, but still something.

I’ve also started building an online shop—a place to share some of the things I love and offer you a little piece of our farm. I’ve uploaded a knitting pattern and have started working on my focaccia ebook.

Another thing I’ll be adding soon is a collection of posters—photos we’ve taken around the farm that capture small, quiet moments. Dahlias in bloom, garlic being planted, a basket of freshly picked tomatoes. I love these images and wanted to turn them into something you could bring into your home. A little reminder of the beauty in the seasons.

I’ve been working on these for several months now and just want to make sure the layout feels right before I upload them to the website. I can’t wait to show you.

Anyway, I must go. I’m writing this from the dining room table in Brisbane. I’m here for a few days, spending time with Kobi and Maya. My parents are taking us to see the Michael Jackson show at QPAC tomorrow night—have you seen it?

I hope everything is wonderful in your world.

Tash xxx

January 2026

our new tractor looking extra gorgeous at sunset :)))

How are you?

I just read my last post..July last year.. it’s been a while. We have so much to catch up on…

Last year was huge. We spent pretty much most of our time at the farm working on something. The house is pretty much renovated, the gardens are complete, we created some outdoor seating areas, Benji started on converting part of the shed into a studio, we bought a few hens and a rooster named Freddy and we did a lot of landscaping. We ended up buying a tractor (changed our world) and I slashed the paddocks which took many many weeks. In between we spent time with the kids and family in Brisbane, went to Bali to celebrate my Mum’s 80th, went to Moreton Island to celebrate Maya’s 21st, made some new friends and spent time with old friends.

So there is a very brief recap of the last six months.

This year we are planning on taking it a bit slower.. not working as hard here on the farm. We have two main projects we would like to do, covert the old garage next to the house into a potting shed/workshop space and finish Benji’s studio. We might get a start on the bathroom and outdoor kitchen over at the tiny house but we will see…

This past weekend we worked over at Millers Lane all day Saturday, we are going to put it on the market in the next week or so, and then Sunday we had a day off! Didn’t do any work (we can’t remember last time we did this..). Had a late breakfast, went to the gym, went for coffee, had a late lunch, Benji had a nap, I did some crocheting and spent the evening chatting and making plans. It was so relaxing!! Slow Sundays! I'm here for them.

I have been playing with lots of things in the kitchen, guided by what is growing in the garden. I have been pickling beetroot, zucchini, rhubarb, drying flowers for tea and kombucha, dehydrating herbs and beef jerky (this has been a little life changing) preserving lemons, and made cheong for the first time with a friend’s kumquats which was delicious.

The garden is coming along ok. The soil is not great and the plants never seem to be thriving. It will take time to build the soil. In the meantime I just give them as much love as I can… the summer garden at the moment consists of lots of zucchini, eggplants, bush beans, tomatoes, basil, cucumbers, silverbeet, spinach, fennel, watermelon, corn, choko, and pumpkins… there are also some berries but the birds usually beat me to them.. I have started to focus on growing flowers and am loving it! Who knew. I grew some foxgloves for the first time which were stunning, and now I have lots of dahlias and zinnias in the garden. It is so lovely to look out the kitchen window and see so much beauty.. little works of art.

At the moment the zucchinis are what I am harvesting mostly. It is really extraordinary how fast they grow. I love it when I get a glut of something because I find I really need to get creative…I have been making zucchini and basil soup (a soup Benji has made for years and one we really love) which I am freezing for cooler seasons, roasting them, pickling them, and making a salad with them.. I have decided to start sharing some of my recipes which you can find here... I love to hear if you have any interesting zucchini recipes…?

I pulled out the knitting needles again last week after having a break over the past few months. Maya and her boyfriend Jeremy are heading to Europe next month for a holiday and I thought I’d knit them a beanie each before they go. I found a beautiful wool blend, a pink one for Maya and slate coloured for Jeremy. It’s nice to be knitting again. The drive from Brisbane to here is about 3.5 hours so the perfect amount of time to get in some serious knitting…

Well that’s it from me at the moment. Benji and I are about to head over to Millers Lane to do some more tidying up and then go to town for a pub dinner.

Love to hear your news.

I hope everything is wonderful in your world.

Love Tash xxx

July on the Farm

July has been a beautiful and busy month here on the farm. One of the most exciting moments was moving our tiny house—and I’m happy to say it went so smoothly! No damage at all, and now it’s nestled right in the heart of the property. We’ve already started dreaming and planning the next steps: a little camp kitchen, a bathroom, and hopefully welcoming guests by spring. It feels like the start of something really special.

This month was also filled with family and friends visiting the farm. Benji’s brother and his family visited for the weekend, then my niece and nephew stayed for the week. The had never been to a farm before and we had lots of fun. After that, my sisters, their families, and my parents all came out to celebrate my birthday. Our kids, Eden, Kobi and Maya, were all here too, and having everyone together on the farm made me feel incredibly loved. We had a full weekend of noise, food, laughter, and connection—exactly what I needed.

On the project front, we’ve started building Benji’s studio. We’ve taken the end bay of the shed and are converting it into a creative space for him. He’s so excited to have a place to work and create. We also did a big clean-out of the shed—built some storage shelves, organised all the tools and gear, and made sure everything is off the ground before snake season rolls around.

Out in the garden, we’ve been doing bits here and there: finishing garden edging, planting raspberries, fruit trees, and some deciduous trees. Even though the weather has been cold, it’s been breathtakingly beautiful—crisp skies, golden light, and the kind of quiet that only winter brings.

Inside, we’ve been working on the laundry space. It’s come a long way! The toilet that used to just be there when you walked in now has proper walls around it. We took out the old laundry sink and are replacing it with a smaller one, plus a timber bench over the washing machine. It already feels more practical and a lot nicer to be in.

We’ve also started shopping for a tractor—which is kind of a big deal! We think we’ve found one that suits our needs, but we’re doing a little more research before we make the leap.

In between everything, I’ve kept my hands busy with a few knitting projects: a couple of beanies, some gloves, and I’ve just cast on a vest. I even hosted a little giveaway on Instagram and sent one of the beanies off to a new home. It felt so good to share something handmade. I’d love to do more of that—maybe seasonal giveaways or little shop updates down the line. Speaking of sharing things, I’ve been thinking a lot about starting a gardening community. A space to share what I’ve learned about growing food, to help others build confidence in their gardens, and to connect with like-minded folks. I’m still figuring out what that will look like—whether it's a newsletter, a group, or something else—but it’s definitely something I feel pulled toward.

And while we’re still in the thick of winter, little signs of spring are beginning to show. The daffodils have started shooting, the roses and raspberries are waking up, and I can almost feel the shift in the air.

How are you? What did your July look like? I hope it was also filled with the things you love and the people you love.

Tash xxx

This is Where I'm At

The past few weeks have felt long and full. We’ve been going back and forth between Brisbane and the farm in Tenterfield, trying to keep up with both places, both lives. Kobi got home from his trip to Japan—he had the best time. It was so good to see him come back happy, relaxed, and still glad to be home. That felt like a good sign.

The very next day, we were over at the neighbours eating pizza when Maya called. Eli—our old cat—suddenly couldn’t use his back legs. We rushed him to the emergency vet and then to the animal hospital the following day for more tests. Eventually, they suspected a growth on his spine. They said he’d need surgery but didn’t know if he’d ever walk again. His blood pressure was high, and at 17, the risks were too great. We decided, together, that the kindest thing we could do was let him go. He died on my lap, where he always curled up in the evenings. It was his favourite place to be, and I’m glad that’s where he took his last breath.

Back at the farm, winter has properly arrived. Mornings are freezing—zero degrees most days—but the sun’s been shining and the light is beautiful. The garden is moving slowly. The cabbage moths have finally stopped laying their eggs, which is a small relief. Everything is sleeping, and I’m trying to listen closely to what it needs.

Benji and I have been working on the tiny house, getting it ready to move to the farm. We had to reinforce the cladding, take off the front screen and the bench seat, and clear everything out. She’s empty now and ready to go. The builder and the removalist think we’ll be able to move it in the next couple of weeks. It feels like such a big step—even though it’s just a small house, it holds so much hope.

I’ve got a few knitting projects on the go at the moment—one of them for Maya’s 21st birthday in September. I’m also back on the gloves, starting from scratch again and trying to work out where I went wrong last time. It’s fiddly and slow, but knitting has become part of the everyday now. A quiet kind of anchor in the evenings.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about what A Plot in Common could look like as a business. I don’t need it to be huge or extraordinary. I just want to offer something gentle and grounded—an invitation for people to come to the farm, learn how to grow their own food, maybe try their hand at fermenting, share a long lunch, stay in the tiny house. Real things. Good things. A way of covering the costs without turning it into something it’s not.

One idea I’ve been playing with is starting a gardening membership—monthly videos, PDFs, a Zoom conversation where we can share what we’re growing and learning. Members would also get discounts to farm events and workshops. It’s something that makes sense in my head, but I haven’t been sure whether it would make sense to anyone else.

And honestly, I don’t know if any of this is going to work. Some days I feel really unsure. Like maybe I’m just fooling myself. I’ve put so much thought into this farm and A Plot in Common and all the things I want to share here—but I keep asking myself: is this something people even want? Will anyone come? Will they care?

I’m not trying to build anything big or impressive. I just want to create something slow and real and useful. But the truth is, I don’t know if it’s enough. I don’t know if I’m enough to make it happen.

I guess I’m saying this because I want to be honest. Not the tidy version of starting a farm business, but the real one—where I lie in bed wondering if I’m wasting my time. Do I keep moving forward anyway, but with shaky hands.

So I’m putting it out there. Would you be interested? In coming to the farm, learning something new, slowing down, being part of it? I’d really love to know.

Tash xxx

Tiny house at sunrise (photo taken by our lovely neighbour)

Love Grass and Jam Drops

Firstly, thank you. To everyone who reached out after the last post and offered to come and be part of the working bee on the farm—what a joy. I’m really looking forward to meeting everyone, sharing this space with you, and spending time together doing something meaningful.

Last weekend, our son Kobi flew off to Japan for a two-week holiday with a friend. He’s called and messaged a few times and it sounds like he’s having the most amazing time. It’s such a thrill watching him stretch out into the world like that.

Back here, things have eased a little. Maybe it’s the colder weather, or maybe it’s just where we’re at—but the pace feels slower, gentler. It’s been so lovely. Since moving here, we’ve started a little ritual — the #sunriseclub. Every morning at sunrise we sit on the front deck with a coffee, watching the birds wake and the world slowly come to life. It’s such a peaceful, grounding way to begin the day. We’ve had the fire going most days now, and the rhythm of our time has shifted into something warm and wintery. I’ve been leaning into it too—lots of slow-cooked meals, sticky date pudding with rum caramel sauce (because why not?), and a batch of jam drops, which are Benji’s favourites. Both recipes are from Donna Hay, and I’ll share them at the end of this post.

Benji and I brought out an old shelf from Brisbane—one he made years ago that had been sitting unused. It’s now by the front door of the farmhouse, home to muddy boots, garden trugs, baskets for harvesting, and a few of our most-used tools. I’ve also repurposed my dad’s old toolbox—the one he had before I was even born—to hold all sorts of little garden odds and ends. There’s something so grounding about surrounding ourselves with things that hold stories. Pieces from the past, woven into the daily rhythm of farm life.

We had some beautiful friends come and stay over the weekend. The kind of friends that make everything feel easy and full. We gave them a little tour of town, had lunch at the pub, cooked lots of delicious food, and sat around the fire chatting late into the night. I gifted one of them a crocheted scarf and ended up teaching her how to crochet by the fire. We drank wine, laughed hard, and talked deeply. My kind of weekend.

Earlier in the week, Benji and I netted the veggie patch. The cabbage moths have been absolutely relentless—every day I’d be out there plucking off caterpillars and inspecting every leaf. The plants were struggling, so I’m hoping the netting helps them bounce back. Fingers crossed.

I’ve also been working away on the paddocks. It might sound ridiculous, but I’ve started mowing the top half of the 40 acres with a ride-on mower. It’s completely covered in love grass—a persistent, overgrown mess that smothers the good stuff. The cattle will eat it when it’s short, but they avoid it when it’s long. We had an agronomist out a while ago who recommended slashing and mulching to help manage it, but since I don’t have a tractor, hiring someone to slash this much land would be incredibly expensive. So I’ve decided to slowly chip away at it myself. It’s oddly satisfying, and I’ve got this idea that by spring I’ll be able to start strip grazing the cattle. I’d also love to bring in some sheep, since they’ll graze down the grass and help fertilise the soil too.

Of course, I managed to get the mower bogged earlier in the week. There’s a little trench through one of the paddocks that the previous owner dug for drainage, and I somehow got the back wheels stuck in it. You should have seen Benji’s face when I came back up to the house and said, “Umm... I think I got the mower stuck.” Luckily it didn’t take much digging to get it back out.

In knitting news, I finally finished the hot water bottle cover using a free pattern I found on Ravelry—shades of pink and so cosy. And now I’ve started on a pair of gloves, though I have no idea what I’m doing. But I’m loving the challenge and the change of pace from all the beanies.

It’s been a week of slower days, small wins, and moments of connection. And really, that feels just right.

Tash xxx

Here are this week’s recipes that I used and loved…love to hear what delicious recipes or knitting projects you have been creating…?

Rum and Date Cake

https://www.donnahay.com.au/recipes/sweets/cakes/rum-and-date-cake-with-caramel-sauce

Jam Drops

https://www.donnahay.com.au/recipes/desserts-and-baking/cookies/jam-drops

Hot Water Bottle Pattern

https://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/hot-water-bottle-cover-48

From Little Things..

Over the last couple of years, Benji and I spent a year building a tiny house on our smaller acreage, Millers Lane. If you’ve been here a while, you might remember those long weekends—us, covered in dust and sawdust, learning as we went. We poured so much of ourselves into that space. Benji’s brother’s old windows frame the views, and his Grandad’s workbench stands proud inside. It holds memory and meaning and many, many cups of coffee.

At the end of last year, things shifted when we bought a bigger farm just ten minutes away. A house, more space, more sky—and so many more possibilities. For a while we weren’t sure what to do with the tiny house. It’s so full of our story, our sweat, and our time. But after many conversations and walking the new land, we’ve decided to move it here, to the new farm.

The move itself is no small thing—it wasn’t built with relocating in mind. But we’ve found a wonderful local builder and a removalist to help us make it happen. We’ve chosen the most beautiful site, nestled amongst the trees and hills, private and peaceful and just right.

Once it’s settled in its new spot, the tiny house will become guest accommodation, a space for people to come and stay, rest, and experience the farm. We hope to open it this spring. It’s warm and welcoming, with a cosy fireplace, handmade details, and views that stretch for miles. But the vision goes beyond the tiny house itself.

This patch of land will also become a space for long lunches, workshops, artist retreats, pizza nights, and movies under the stars. It’s about gathering, connecting, and sharing the farm with others. Sharing the food we grow. Sharing the quiet. Sharing the joy.

That’s the heart of it for us—connection. We want people to feel part of something here. To come together around a table, around a fire, and into a slower rhythm. To experience the land and the life we’re building, one garden bed, one story, one meal at a time.

And now, here’s the part I’m really excited to share with you.

As we prepare to give the tiny house its new home, we’ve realised this next part of the journey is something we’d love to open up and share. We’ll be building a deck, a bathroom, setting it all up for its next chapter—and we’d love your help.

We’re inviting a small group of adults (for safety reasons, kids will be welcome at future events!) to come out to the farm for a working weekend. It’ll be a hands-on, communal couple of days helping us bring this vision to life. There’ll be plenty to do—building, lifting, painting, planting—and in between we’ll camp, share meals, sit around the fire, and spend time together.

Here’s what you need to know:

• It’ll be a weekend event (dates to come soon).

• Adults only.

• There’s no payment involved—just us, a bunch of jobs, some good food, and the joy of building something beautiful together.

• You’re welcome to camp on our property (BYO camping gear) or book local accommodation nearby.

• All materials will be provided by us.

• I’ll cook and provide lunch and dinner—think hearty meals straight from the garden.

• There’ll be coffee (and other beverages), laughter, firelight, and that great kind of tired that comes from doing something meaningful together.

• We’ll work, we’ll eat, we’ll share stories and build something beautiful—together.

  If this sounds like something you’d love to be a part of, please email me at aplotincommon@outlook.com to express your interest. I’ll be in touch soon with dates and more details.

  As always, thank you for walking alongside us in this wild and wonderful journey. We truly can’t wait to share more.

  Love,
  Tash xxx

Family, friends and a jar of pickles

We spent most of last week up in Brisbane for our son Kobi’s 22nd birthday—how did that happen so fast? Our beautiful big man. It was a week of family catch-ups, a little taste of city life, and a special night at the theatre with the book club girls. We saw The Dictionary of Lost Words, a story we’d read together a few years back, and the production was just so lovely—the kind that lingers quietly in your mind. The set design was especially beautiful, full of thoughtful, delicate details that brought the story to life.

While we were up there, I also caught up with a woman who’s been following me on Instagram for nearly a decade. She messaged me a choko recipe after I posted about the avalanche of them growing in the garden. It was delicious. When I realised she lived in Brisbane, I asked if I could drop off a jar of our pickles to say thank you. We ended up meeting for coffee and sharing stories—hers, mine, and everything in between. It was one of those lovely, unexpected connections that makes me really appreciate the good parts of social media. Isn’t it wild how we can find each other like that?

Benji and I drove back out to Tenterfield on Saturday afternoon and spent Sunday chopping wood. Well, until Benji’s chainsaw started acting up. We gave up and went into town for a coffee instead—maybe the chainsaw knew we needed a break. The rest of the day we spent in the garden. I’d brought a few old plant pots back with me from Brisbane, gave them a fresh coat of paint, and filled them with flowers. A couple of dahlias too, which are always my favourite. I popped them out by the front door, and now every time I walk past, they make me smile. Do you have a flower that always makes you happy, no matter what?

The rain’s been pretty consistent these last few weeks. Everything is damp, lush, and teeming. The winter veggies are slowly getting there, though the cabbage moths are being particularly relentless this year. I’ve spent so much time picking off eggs and caterpillars, I’ve started dreaming about them. And with all the rain, the slugs and snails are having the time of their lives too.

Benji’s still chipping away at the garden edging—a big job, but it’s really transforming the whole space. It’s starting to feel more settled, more like the garden we’ve been imagining.

We had some friends over for dinner last night, which was so lovely. Benji used one of our pumpkins to make a pumpkin soup, I made a chicken and leek pie with garden greens, and a chocolate custard mousse to finish. Do you have a go-to dessert for guests? We’ve got more friends coming Friday night, and then my sister and her family are staying over on Saturday, so it’s shaping up to be a very social week. It feels good to share food and space like that. Especially when it’s been a bit grey and wet outside.

With the weather cooling, I’ve been getting back into my knitting again. I just finished a bright yellow beanie for Eden. She’s living in Melbourne now, and asked for something cheerful to help get her through those dark, dreary winters. So yellow it was. I’ve just started a hot water bottle cover now, in soft shades of pink. I think I’ll offer it to Maya. It’s nice working on something that isn’t a beanie for a change—do you find that too? That feeling when a new project shifts your rhythm a bit?

Hope you’re warm and well wherever you are. I’d love to know—what’s keeping your hands busy and your heart full these days?

Love,
Tash

Slowing down with Autumn

For Easter this year we managed to get all five of us together. Eden came up from Melbourne, and we all drove out to Tenterfield for a few days. It’s getting harder to coordinate now, getting everyone together —Eden in Melbourne living her best life, Maya and Kobi both juggling part-time work and uni—but when it comes together, it feels really special. There’s something about being in the same place again, even just for a few days, that fills my cup.

Eden stayed for ten days, and it was just so good to have her home. We spent a lot of time visiting family, eating good food, and just hanging out. It’s not often we get that much time together anymore, so I really soaked it up. We saw grandparents and cousins, baked a few things, and stretched dinners out into long chats around the table. When she left, the house felt quiet—and I really felt the gap she leaves behind when she’s not here. But I’m also so happy for her. She’s doing her thing down there, she’s happy, and I’m so so proud of her.

Since then, I’ve been mostly in the garden or in the kitchen pickling. The winter vegetables are starting to find their feet—broad beans, garlic, kale, cabbages, carrots, broccoli. I’ve been doing a lot of weeding, added compost and worm juice, and spent way too much time removing cabbage moth eggs and pulling off caterpillars. They’re so persistent, those moths. A constant little battle.

Over at Millers Lane, the chokos and pumpkins have been coming in thick and fast. Benji and I have been trying to get creative with the chokos.. I grew up eating them cooked in the microwave—usually for way too long—and served with just a bit of salt and pepper. I couldn’t stand them. But now that we’ve got them growing like crazy, we’re on a bit of a mission to bring back some flavour to the old choko.

Benji tried cooking them in butter and miso a couple of weeks ago, and it was surprisingly good. I also made a choko kimchi—same method as usual, just swapped out the cabbage—and it worked a treat. I’ll pop the choko kimchi recipes at the bottom of this post in case you’d like to try them too. The choko pickle is hands down our favourite. A lovely woman on Instagram recommended the recipe from the Cornersmith’s book Pocket Pickler and it’s so moreish. I’ve been making batch after batch, and we’re eating it almost every second day. I’ve been giving away jars to anyone who stops by.

In other news.. I bogged the ute. Classic. Got it properly bogged. A friend tried pulling it out with his ute, then a neighbour had a go with his tractor, and finally another mate came over with his digger and had to lift it out. It wasn’t funny at the time—just frustrating. But it did make me realise I need to slow down a bit, not take on quite so many things at once.

Benji’s been spending a lot of time in the garden too, working on edging the beds and creating little paths in and around the garden and the house. It’s made such a difference. It suddenly looks intentional and really defines the spaces.

And autumn? She’s definitely here now. The mornings are cool and still and golden. Benji and I have been setting the alarm extra early and getting up before the sun. We take our coffees out onto the deck, rug up in jackets, and watch the day begin. The birds start calling, the light shifts, and everything feels calm and new. It’s become one of my favourite little rituals. Do you have a seasonal ritual? Something that you like to do each season as a way to mark the change?

With the beautiful family time over Easter, the hours and hours spent preserving, the bogged ute, and the gorgeous changing season, it all feels like a gentle nudge to slow down. I feel like autumn is quietly reminding me to pause, take a breath, and let things unfold at their own pace. For once, I’m actually trying to listen.

Love,
Tash

Choko Kimchi Recipe

Here’s the choko kimchi recipe I’ve been loving lately. It’s super simple to make, and the choko works so well in place of cabbage!

Ingredients:

• 2 large chokos, peeled and julienned

• 2 tablespoons sea salt

• 4 garlic cloves, minced

• 2 tablespoons ginger, minced

• 2 tablespoons fish sauce

• 2 tablespoons sugar

• 2 tablespoons gochugaru (Korean chili flakes)

• 2 tablespoons rice vinegar

Instructions:

1. Start by salting the julienned chokos. Place them in a bowl and sprinkle with sea salt. Toss to coat and leave them to sit for 2-3 hours to draw out the water. Afterward, rinse and drain them well.

2. In a separate bowl, mix the garlic, ginger, fish sauce, sugar, gochugaru, and rice vinegar.

3. Toss the salted chokos in the spice mixture until well-coated. ( I recommend wearing gloves here)

4. Pack the choko mixture into a clean jar, pressing it down as you go.

5. Leave the jar at room temperature for 2-3 days to ferment, then store it in the fridge for up to a month.

   Enjoy it as a side dish with your meals, or use it in sandwiches and wraps. It’s a bit spicy, tangy, and totally addictive!

Focaccia and Persimmons

The past week has been a little bit of everything—in the best way. Life seems to be falling into a rhythm lately, moving between Brisbane and the farm. I spent a lovely few days in the city with the kids—soaking up time together, going out for lunch, and hosting bookclub. We just finished The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store—have you read it? I absolutely loved it. A gentle, powerful story with so much heart. I’ve just started listening to The Wedding People, another bookclub pick, and I’m really enjoying that too.

After a few days in Brisbane, I headed back out to Tenterfield to check on the gardens. I’d just planted out both Millers Lane and Bella Vista with winter seeds and seedlings—spinach, silverbeet, kale, broccoli, radish, rocket, parsley, coriander, cauliflower, and beets. In those early days, they need a bit of extra care—water, warmth, and a little attention so they don’t get too stressed. I’ll do a separate post soon about how I’ve been setting up the gardens, for anyone curious.

I brought our old cat Eli with me this time. Since Olive passed away a few months ago—his best little mate—he hasn't quite been the same. He really loved her. These days, he likes to stick close, so I’ve decided to start taking him out to Tenterfield with me whenever I can. He seems to really enjoy it. Most evenings he’s curled up on my lap, purring away… which, if he had his way, would be his full-time job.

On Friday night, Benji and I went to a pop-up pizza night run by our favourite barista in town. It was so good. I love seeing these creative little events popping up—there’s a real buzz building here. Thoughtful, talented people bringing their skills and ideas to the community. I said to Benji, how fortunate we are to witness the small shifts happening.

Most of my time over the past few months has been spent indoors at Bella Vista, painting and redecorating the farmhouse—which I absolutely love doing. I am nearly finished and figure whilst the Autumn weather is so beautiful I will started focusing on working outside in the gardens and paddocks and when the weather turns I can return to the jobs inside… I’ve just finished staining the second old church pew I found on Marketplace and restored. One now sits at the front of the house, the other at the back—perfect spots to perch with a beverage of your choice and take in the beautiful views. I also set up a compost bin, laid weed mat, helped move stones to make garden paths, and squeezed in some bread baking.

Speaking of bread—there’s a recipe I wanted to share with you. It’s my go-to focaccia, and I make it at least once a week (sometimes more). It’s simple, reliable, and always a hit—bookclub girls gave it rave reviews!

Tash’s Focaccia

In a big bowl, mix 5 cups of baker’s flour and 1 tablespoon of salt.

In a jug, stir together 2½ cups of warm water, 2 teaspoons of sugar, and 1 sachet of baker’s yeast. Leave it until it starts to foam—this means the yeast is active.

Add the liquid to the flour and mix well. Knead until smooth and bouncy.

In a clean bowl, pour in 4 tablespoons of olive oil, then add the dough. Cover and let it rise until doubled in size.

Using two forks, fold the dough over itself from either side, then transfer to a tray and let it proof again—until it spreads about a quarter of the way to the tray’s edges.

Heat your oven to 220°C. Drizzle olive oil over the top, then use your fingers like you’re playing piano to make those iconic dimples. I love sprinkling nigella seeds and salt over mine, but you can go wild with toppings.

Bake until golden and fragrant. So simple, so good.

Let me know if you try it, or if you have any questions. I’m no expert, but I love playing around with recipes and this one’s definitely a keeper.

Something else I’ve been experimenting with this week is hoshigaki—a traditional Japanese method of drying persimmons. I first came across them while travelling in Japan. You peel the fruit and hang them somewhere with sunlight and a bit of airflow for about four to six weeks, gently massaging them daily to help move the sugars around. I was planning to hang them under the eaves of the house, but with the concreter coming to do the deck, I shifted them out to the shed instead. They’re all strung up now, jiggling in the breeze like little orange lanterns. I just love the slowness of it. A small, sweet reminder of Japan right here at home. I’ll keep you posted on how they go..

Our eldest daughter Eden is flying in from Melbourne on Wednesday to stay for ten days—I can’t wait. Benji, the kids and I will spend a few nights out at Tenterfield and then head back to Brisbane to spend time with family.

If you’re getting a bit of a break over the holidays, I hope it’s filled with the things and people you love.

Love Tash xxx

Two Farms. One Dream

When we first stumbled across Tenterfield a few years ago, we had no idea how deeply we’d fall for the place. We were just visiting—chasing space, fresh air, and the kind of quiet you can actually feel in your bones. The moment we drove into Tenterfield, I fell deeply in love. We ended up buying a 5-acre block (Millers Lane) a few months later—a beautiful little patch of land with views that made us breathe a bit deeper.

Over the next couple of years, we built a tiny house (with big dreams of one day building a home), planted trees, and slowly carved out a kitchen garden. It became this really beautiful, grounding place for us—a retreat from city life and a space to grow food.

But something in us kept stirring. The more time we spent in Tenterfield, the more we fell in love—not just with the land but with the people, the community, and the quiet rhythm of life out here. We started dreaming bigger. We wanted to grow more food. To farm ‘properly’. To really commit to a piece of land and do something meaningful with it.

Late last year, we found her. Bella Vista. A 45-acre block just 15 minutes out of town. The kind of place that made my heart race the second we stepped onto it. We could see it all—veggie gardens, cows in the paddock, long lunches under the trees, workshops, a place to welcome people in and show them what’s possible. A place to grow real food for our family, friends, and the community.

We’ve spent the past few months renovating the house and building the kitchen garden. It’s been wild and exhausting and beautiful and so, so worth it.

Right now, we’re living between two worlds—Brisbane and Tenterfield. Two of our kids are in Brisbane, and spending time with them is everything to us. We go back and forth often, juggling this dance between city and country, family and farming. It’s not always easy, but it feels right for now.

Millers Lane is still such a special place to us. I’m working towards renting out the tiny house soon—so others can come and experience what we’ve built there, and feel some of the magic we feel when we’re on that land. It’s peaceful. It’s honest. It holds a lot of love.

We’ve just bought three cows for the property, which is a really lovely addition to the property. I think it’ll be really lovely for visitors—to wake up, have a cuppa on the deck, and see the cows grazing just over the fence.

And if you’re wondering why we’re doing all of this…

We love being in the country. We love the stillness, the seasons, the sound of the birds... I love so much being in the garden with dirt under my nails and sun on my back. Growing food brings me this deep, steady happiness—it’s like something in me exhales when I’m planting, tending, harvesting.

Benji loves it too—especially when there’s a good design or build project on the go. He’s always sketching ideas or tinkering with something, and being out here gives him the space to dream things up and bring them to life.

But it’s not just about the joy it brings me. I’m also deeply worried. I’m scared. And yes, sometimes I’m angry. Our food systems are in real trouble—they’re fragile, broken in places, and so disconnected from both people and the land. I feel this strong pull to do something, to be part of the solution, even in small ways.

This farm, for us, is about hope. It’s about showing what’s possible when we reconnect to the land and our food. It’s about creating a space where others can learn, grow, and feel inspired to be part of the change too.

It’s not perfect. It’s definitely not easy. But it’s real. And it matters.

Thanks for being here and following along. I’m really glad you’re here.

Tash xxx