Liv­ing their bucket list dream in Nova Sco­tia

Outdoor Lifestyle Magazine - - Contents - BY SARAH MACALPINE – HALLS HAR­BOUR, NS

I first heard the ex­pres­sion, “bought the farm,” in a book sev­eral years ago.

At the time, I didn’t think much of it.

It was just some­thing peo­ple used to say in the 40s and 50s in­stead of say­ing that some­one had died. It wasn’t un­til a few weeks be­fore my hus­band Kenny and I were leav­ing our sub­ur­ban, On­tario home for a 150-year-old farm­house with two run­down barns on about five acres of hope­fully farmable land in Nova Sco­tia, that I made the con­nec­tion.

I had just worked my last nine-to-five and Kenny and I were at our lo­cal watering hole tak­ing a much-needed re­prieve from the purg­ing and pack­ing that had be­come our en­tire ex­is­tence, when a fa­mil­iar face joined us. He im­me­di­ately cou­pled his arm across my shoul­ders and beamed, “So, you bought the farm, eh?”

On the in­side, I was a clut­tered mess of emo­tion… brim­ming with ex­cite­ment and joy, but also strug­gling with my fair share of jit­tery ap­pre­hen­sion. I met my old friend’s pint glass with my own and re­turned his wide grin with a gra­cious smirk. In­deed, we did buy the farm.

We trav­elled of­ten, lived in a beau­ti­ful home in a won­der­ful com­mu­nity, our neigh­bours were some of our best friends, and I could even walk to work. Cer­tainly, we had cre­ated a nice life, but some­where scur­ry­ing through it while work­ing op­po­site shifts, Kenny and I de­cided that this isn’t what we wanted. So, we de­cided to leave our com­fort­able lives to fol­low our in­ner­most as­pi­ra­tions.

In life, know­ing when to stop do­ing some­thing is an art form unto it­self. It’s much too easy to get caught up in the day-to-day hus­tle while bal­anc­ing your ex­is­tence. Of­ten when you do re­al­ize it, it can be con­sid­er­ably in­tim­i­dat­ing to pro­ceed. It’s a per­fect storm when you de­cide it is time to stop some­thing and you know what you want.

For us, it was an hon­est break­through. We wanted to get back to na­ture and con­nect with our food, some­where we could unite with the rhythm of the tides, and sea­sonal shifts. We wanted to work pur­pose­fully to­gether to cre­ate some­thing ben­e­fi­cial and re­ward­ing. We in­tended to do some­thing that some peo­ple never get the chance to do, or wait un­til be­fore death to do. We were buy­ing the farm!

The search for our home­stead ended on a cold morn­ing in late March just down the road from a lit­tle fish­ing vil­lage on the Fundy shore. Al­though it wasn’t promptly ev­i­dent to me that this is where we would hap­pily lay our roots, when I did grasp it, there was no look­ing back. We went home, sold our house, and when I went to sleep at night I dreamt of work­ing the fields near the ocean on our thriv­ing pas­ture. Kenny and I named our cher­ished new en­deavor, Two Birds One Stone Farm.

We are only on the thresh­old of this great new ad­ven­ture. We have an enor­mous to-do list, and so much to learn. To­mor­row morn­ing, we are go­ing to pick up our lit­tle trac­tor, and we have a field full of golden rod to at­tend to. We’re in un­fa­mil­iar wa­ters, no doubt, but it’s what makes sense in my soul.

Mak­ing the de­ci­sion to live ru­rally and get into farm­ing was re­ally about find­ing a way to com­bine my favourite things. I love be­ing out­side with my hands in the soil, and I’m pas­sion­ate about na­ture. Not un­like our move, this recipe brings to­gether many of my favourites – the flavours I love most in one sim­ple, easy to eat taco.

Am­ber Rich­mond Pho­tog­ra­phy

Pho­tog­ra­phy by

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Canada

© PressReader. All rights reserved.