I'm not a particularly emotional person. 

I don't typically well up at weddings, or around babies, or under crisis. 

But some moments undo the best of us.

I have a very long standing dear friend, Sue (sometimes found over here) who I met when I was fifteen and we've been friends ever since, notwithstanding varying continental distances.  

On Monday, having been in Sydney all day, we came home to a long package on the front doorstep. In that long box lay two apple trees, top and tailed, with root balls moistly sealed, ready to be planted. 



Sometimes it's your oldest friends, even if they're in London, who know just the right moment to send the perfect present. 

Adam and I stood the trees up on the dining table after we bundled sleeping children out of the car and into bed, and stared at them. How did she know?



How did she know that putting a tree in the ground here on this old, old family farm, right now, was exactly what we needed this week? 

Apples, even. Our first fruit trees. In what will be the orchard. 

Right when we're floundering just a little bit, unsure if we can sustain the luxury of farming full time; will our eggs sales, chicken sales, pork sales, biscuit sales uphold us? 




And then today after dinner I was watching my two girls in the bath; Tilly was squeezing out the stocking with oats in it to calm her eczema, Ivy was singing in Ivy language, Henry was quietly achieving something extraordinary on his ipod while waiting for his shower – I am amazed at the coding he's figured out already, he's still seven – and I welled up with happy tears. Adam had put on his favourite piece of music, Pachelbel's Canon, and was conducting in the hallway.

There'd been a funeral on Friday for a local lady, not someone I knew, but someone that was a dear friend to friends of ours. Adam had been with the fire brigade at the accident. We reminded each other, just at dinner, how short life might be. 

Grab it. 

Don't miss it.



Put a tree in the ground. 

Hold your nerve. 

Find a new market, idea, income stream, and one day we'll have apple pie and preserves and sauce to go with the pork loin chops. 

Really, she'll be apples.



Thank you Sue, we love them. And you.


17 Comments on “permanent

lily boot
April 30, 2012 at 9:24 pm

Oh what a lovely gift. Good luck with your pressing on Fiona! If I could buy your pork and chicken here in Melbourne I would in a heartbeat! You’ll get there – you were born to 🙂

Christine @ slowlivingessentials
April 30, 2012 at 10:07 pm

A beautiful post. I got goosebumps when I read that Pachelbel’s Canon was playing – this would have to be my most favourite piece of music…ever!!
If anything can inspire one to seize life and enjoy the moment, this piece can.

Best of luck with your plans – enjoy watching those apple trees flourish – as I’m sure they will under your care. A very thoughtful gift. 🙂

April 30, 2012 at 10:29 pm

Beautiful. Yes! YES.

May 1, 2012 at 12:18 am

What a lovely gift and friend. Hope you and the new trees prosper!

May 1, 2012 at 1:24 am

What a gorgeous gift. If you were looking for a sign you were on the right path I reckon that was it 🙂

Following your dreams and creating a life by your own design takes so much courage; if it were easy, everyone would do it. You guys are going to do amazing things, I know it. Hold tight to your vision! xxx

Nancy in Canada
May 1, 2012 at 3:46 am

*sniffle* *wipe* *mist* well, YOU might not well up easily, but it’s one of my Olympic sports. Talk about Pachabel, apples, and old friends and ya got me!
God bless you and your apple trees. Now when someone asks how you are, you can say ‘appley dappley!’ 😀

May 1, 2012 at 9:20 am

Appley dappley?!?! Awesome! Is that a crazy Canadianism?? Thanks Nancy x

May 1, 2012 at 11:29 am

You always seem to be able to bring a tear to my eye. I hope that floundering leaves you alone soon – because you are onto something so very very good.

That Sue is a keeper. What a gorgeous friend. x t.

May 1, 2012 at 12:27 pm

Hot Damn Fi! You even made this tough chick cry. All will be apples, and whatever the path you will no doubt continue to inspire!

Bee Girl (AKA Melissa)
May 1, 2012 at 2:25 pm

What a beautiful gift…what a wonderful friendship. Thank you for such a moving post 🙂

May 1, 2012 at 6:35 pm

How wonderful and uplifting. What a amazing friend.

May 1, 2012 at 10:42 pm

Such a warming post, and has a lot of meaning for me right now. Thank you

May 2, 2012 at 3:05 am

Oh, you lovely thing, I knew because you blogged, “how I wish I had an apple tree!”

And because my new apple tree, planted in March, is covered with blossom and makes me smile every day.

And because I am just so excited that you’re on the farm, and making all this happen, and I ache to be there, to pop in, to eat and drink with you, and absorb as much as I can of your Mum, and help with picking coffee, or anything that I can do, and feel wholesome, and go away smiling, as I always do.

May 2, 2012 at 3:10 am

We were at a funeral Friday, too- Dave’s Auntie, way too quickly, and way too young.

You grab it, my dear.

Nancy in Canada
May 2, 2012 at 6:48 am

not a Canadianism – a Nancy-ism

May 4, 2012 at 7:42 am

I love that you can see the sea from your orchard. That is perfection.

May 9, 2012 at 9:38 pm

What a wonderful post. We have three apple trees now, and had apples off two of them this season. That was exciting, they were only 2 years old. Hoping the third, the Cox’s Orange Pippin, will provide next year too.


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