“There’s a flavour of happiness that doesn’t photograph well. It’s not excitement or gratitude or triumph. It’s closer to a kind of ease. A person at rest inside their own life, not because everything is perfect, but because they’ve stopped requiring it to be . . . the happiest people I know have mostly subtracted things. They’ve dropped the argument with reality. Dropped the need to frame everything positively. Dropped the belief that happiness is something you have to generate rather than something that shows up when you stop blocking it.”
– Lachlan Brown (from an article on Space Daily)
I open the gate, and as I slowly walk towards the washing line, my eyes scan the landscape. I regularly remind myself to do that. Not just to appreciate the immediate beauty of it, but in the hope of catching a glimpse of the roe deer with her two little ones that live in the area.
As I hang the washing out, I notice the warmth of the early morning rays mingling with the coolness of the breeze on my exposed skin. I listen to the birdsong, but I mostly pay attention to the wind creating different sounds as it passes through a clump of bamboo, various types of trees, and the tall grass. The landscape has faded into a palette of yellows and browns, with only the dark greens of the trees providing splashes of colour.
June has been hot, except for a couple of gloriously cool days, which means that I do most of my outside work between 6 and 8 or 9 am, before retreating into the shade or air-conditioned interior of the house.
Except for the zucchini and green bean seeds I pressed into the soil, as something of an afterthought, I don’t have a vegetable garden this year. Of course, I still have herbs and flowers, but I am waiting for us to level the soil in front of the house, before I start planning what will finally become a permanent garden. In the meantime, I buy fresh organic veg from a lovely couple with a market garden nearby.
Chores can quickly become overwhelming, as, even when regularly ticked off a list, they keep either coming back or are being replaced by new ones. It is therefore vitally important for me to regularly take time out to notice my surroundings.
The early morning birdsong that sounds different from the afternoon, the frenzied crowing of a cockerel in the distance, the wind rustling in the leaves of the vines on the porch, and the way the early morning light slants through them, glowing a rich orange.
I take deep breaths in these moments to soothe my thoughts that have a tendency to wander off and stir up discord. The feeling of always being two steps behind where I would like to be, can be very unsettling if not hold in check.
I am lucky to live in a place that invites slowing down and experiencing a deep sense of peace, but unless I am mindful of it, it can just as easily dissipate with the coolness of the early morning. The quinta isn’t a safeguard to the intrusions of the world, no matter how much I would love it to be just that. I know all too well how much work it takes to step away from the deluge of information and distraction that is at our fingertips at all hours of the day without respite, and because of that, I also know how important it is to savour those moments in which life feels ‘just right’. And the older I get, the more I am aware of these moments running out for me, and as such, shouldn’t be wasted.
Notes:
# At the beginning of the months when Michael final finished up the borehole the way he’s wanted to in a long time, and I carefully with the help of a funnel filled up the gap between two pipes with bentonite, the overriding switch failed. Michael’s knowledge can only take him so far, but luckily for us our electrician friend had time to pass by on his way to a nearby town, and with the fault correctly identified, he could buy the switch and install it on his way back that same afternoon.
# I bravely told Michael that I will take it upon myself to remove the silicon in the shower and redo it, after we bought all the necessary bits. I suspect that it was the last time that I have happily volunteered for that job.
# Other jobs included raking up piles of leftover rock after the stone mason finished the wall around the olive tree right in front of the house. Work on the dry-stone wall, which is very close to being finished, has come to a grinding halt, as we are waiting for more stone to be delivered. Unfortunately, we are not sure when that will happen, as the supplier doesn’t know either. Although I can’t wait for it to be done, I’ve also learned it is best to shrug it off, and focus on something else in the meantime.
# And then there were unexpected, unwelcome jobs like the steel delivery taking place, as I was driving back from Madrid after dropping Michael off at the airport. Luckily I no longer have spaghetti arms, as I had to move all the steel into the workshop, bar two pieces which were impossible to move alone.
# Strimming is a continuous chore, and although I’ve done a fair amount this months, I’ve taken a break until the tall grass has been cut and bailed before I finish the edges and left over areas.
# Summer is also that time of the year in which the cork oaks are harvested, and on a couple of early mornings, my own work was accompanied by the dull thud of axes, and the tearing away of the bark, punctuated against the flow of ongoing conversation, and the thin sounds of music floating out of a mobile phone.
# Another cork oak belonging to the same neighbour, whose tree came down in the freak tornado, finally broke off and fell into our land. The first half of the tree broke off four years ago, and since then, we’ve been waiting for the remaining half that reached over our land to come down. This time there wasn’t even a puff of wind, and lucky for us, there was also no damage to our dry-stone wall. For now, we are just leaving it be, and will most probably only deal with cutting it up when the weather cools down in autumn, as it is tucked away in a corner.
# The cats are never far away when I venture out in the evening, after the sun has slipped behind some tall trees, to water the garden. Mostly they are still lethargic in the remaining heat, but sometimes Lily entertains me by trying to catch the steady stream of water. These days, this often replace our daily walks, or otherwise we only go a very short distance before the daylight finally drains out of another long summer’s day.
# We often get scattered thunderstorms in June, and this year was no exception. Mostly it is just a lot of promise wrapped up in noise and possibility, but we did get a decent downpour on one of the days, which brought the total to 17mm of rain for the month, which is always welcome, as it never fails to bring cooler weather with it.
A Moment of Joy:
My moments of joy or often tied up with the gifts of having close encounters with the wildlife that can be found in the area. On various mornings I encountered the little roe deer (corço). Once, she came darting towards where I was standing, only to stop about 10 metres from me, and look me in the eyes, before turning around and disappearing in the same direction she originally came from. Another morning, as I was slowly moving through the tall grass, cutting away the ragwort that is poisonous for horses, I spotted the ears of one of the little deer sticking out the tall grass a short distance away from me. It obviously got a huge fright, and quickly made its way to where it’s mom was waiting on the other side of the fence. I only realised that she gave birth to two little ones this year when I spotted them on our land one evening while watering the garden.
And then there was the evening when Midnight alerted me to something through the way her body tensed up, while staring into the grass. I stopped, and while still trying to figure out what she was looking at, a little head popped out. It belonged to a mongoose, who, the moment it saw me, dashed off in the direction of the dried-up seasonal stream, leaving a wave of movement in its wake.
Portuguese Traditions:
Corpus Christi, or Corpo de Deus (“Body of God”), commemorates the Last Supper, and is celebrated on the Thursday following Trinity Sunday, 60 days after Easter. In Portugal it is a public holiday, and is one of the country’s most important religious observances.
Street decorations known as os tapetes are a traditional, artistic expression prepared for the passage of the Corpus Christi procession. Ironically, the tradition that began in Portugal and spread to Brazil during the Age of Discovery, are no longer widely practiced in the country. Ponte de Lima in the north is still holding on to this tradition, transforming its streets into incredible works of art each year using coloured sawdust, coffee grounds, stones, flour, sand, and flowers.
Another Corpus Christi tradition in Ponte de Lima is the Vaca das Cordas (Cow of the Ropes), which dates back to around 1646. According to legend, a temple once stood where the main church is now located. Here, the locals worshipped a goddess in the form of a cow, which is why today, a bull is tied to long ropes with locals dodging it as it runs through the streets to the church, where it is led three times around the it to commemorate the conversion of the population to Christianity.
Written by: Jolandi
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I love Lachlan’s quote, thank you for sharing it. The concept of ‘letting it be’ can be so difficult to grasp, but once it clicks, everything falls into place. You start finding genuine happiness in the simplest things and it sounds like you’ve reached that place.
I’m glad you like the quote, Sarah. And yes, that is so true, and something one has to experience to understand past an intellectual comprehension.
The cats are so smart, napping during the heat of the day. If only businesses and government offices followed a similar schedule!
I always learn a lot from your blog. While my ancestors were farmers, I was spared the details of running an agricultural enterprise in the face of human and natural disasters. I doubt my grandparents had to move steel by hand either, as all of the buildings on their farm were built from wood, much of it rotted by the time I became an adult. I am glad you’re leaving that fallen tree for the autumn and cooler weather. We were living in a suburb when a 30 year old elm tree went down on our aluminum and vinyl fence in the middle of a dreadful summer. We had to clean up everything because the city would have fined us if we left it as was, but chopping up a huge tree and hauling away the wood while mosquitoes ate us alive and humidity made our clothes stick to our bodies like a second skin felt like another circle of hell! Being a homeowner on one’s own is not fun.
I’m sure you still cringe at that memory, Hangaku. Cutting up a 30 year old elm tree in the middle of summer sounds like a particular kind of hell. Michael and I spoke about the enormous amount of work it often takes just to make sure everything looks neat and tidy. Work that is mostly invisible.
I think of this kind of work as well: cleanup for the sake of tidiness. It is so much effort (I feel for you, Hangaku, being forced into it by the city), and most of the effort is invisible. But we who do the work, we know what we’ve done and can celebrate the completion of it. …at least for now.
Working in the cool of the morning or evening is such a sensible thing to do. Your cats have the right idea about what to do! I love the photos of them both asleep next to you in the shade.
It is also wonderful to know that the land you live on is shared by all sorts of other creatures. To be able to see the roe deer and her fawns now and again must be so exciting.
Life on the quinta really brings so many wonderful blessings, Clare. I hope you are well and coping with the heat.
I am very well, thank you and most of the time I cope very well when it gets hot. The only time it gets difficult is during the night when the house doesn’t cool down enough to sleep properly. My husband really suffers in the heat and would love it if it stayed at 20C all the time in the summer! We have had a cooler few days recently with a northerly wind and he is much calmer and not so grumpy 😀
My younger self would’ve probably disagreed with what Lachlan Brown wrote. But his words resonate with my current self so much. Taking time to regularly take brief pauses and notice our surroundings really is my way too to keep on doing whatever I need to do. It’s a way to put things into perspective and not get drowned by piles of tasks. I love the shot of the roe deer. How nice that you get to see them right in your backyard!
Isn’t it wonderful when we notice how we have changed and our priorities are regularly shifting?
It really is a blessing to have these wildlife encounters, Bama, and to know that I am sharing the land with beautiful creatures, both big and small. It is something I don’t think I will ever take for granted.
I, too, appreciated that quote. I am not there yet, but right in the midst of realizing that perspective might be exactly where I want to go. One problem for me is, I *can* make happiness by working really hard at it. I am now interested in letting contentedness find me without all that effort. I think of your paragraph headers “Moment of Joy,” and it seems important, and healthy, to make this a priority.
I am sad to hear you have lost another cork oak, or at least lost the final branch of one on your neighbor’s property. I love that you keep spotting wildlife, especially the mongoose this time, which is more rare. I always love the deer. Pedro’s kids, and Pedro, have spotted deer in the field behind our house. In three years I have not yet seen one. But I will! The photo of the clouds before a storm excites me, with the cumulus mammatus indicating saturated air. I was trained in meteorology at age 19 & 20, and it seems those early lessons never leave me. I love being able to look at clouds and understand some things about them.
We have less of a garden this year as well, as we have committed finally to tearing out the rotten raised beds, transplanting landscaping, and rebuilding raised beds in a new location. Those beds will be in the single spot on the property that gets good, strong sun, and is the future location of tomatoes and peppers. It is a big project with earth moving and gravel and rock and pavers moving. It requires step by step stages – break one part down, move the dirt, move some plants, break another part down, move the dirt, etc – so aside from having nice beds to plant in, I am looking forward to the day when I can CLEAN IT UP, ha ha. 🙂
I love a good quote, as you know, Crystal. I also love that there is a deer in your neighbourhood. Fingers crossed that you will have your own special encounter with it soon. Good storm clouds also excite me, but definitely in a different, and less scientific way than for you. It must be amazing to have the meteorological knowledge that you have. What a job that you have committed to in your garden this year, but for sure it is going to be so amazing once you are done.
I definitely relate to Lachlan Brown’s words these days. It has been freeing and calming. We recently spent 10 days with two grandchildren, most of them without their parents, and I found that I have finally matured enough to be able to focus on only one thing at one time, and that nothing has to be done perfectly (beyond keeping them safe). In the many decades before this, my impatience and perfectionism would not have allowed me to simply revel in their company.
Meanwhile, about you and your post … I love seeing the kitties relaxing with you, the pretty deer, the stone walls that I will never get enough of, the trees (although not the fallen one!), and I always enjoy reading about your work on the quinta. Hope July stays a little cool and a little wet!
What a blessing, Lexie. I suppose that is also why we often think fondly of our own grandparents, who most probably also learned to be present in a way that is not possible for parents. They can be such special relationships. I still fondly think back to the times I spent with my grandparents on my maternal side for instance.
For some reason, the word singing in my head is “somnolent” whereas you are nothing but. Always another task at hand, always the finish line inches further away – and yet… Taking the moment to stop – and stay in that moment.
Last week I had the pleasure of a night away on a secluded rural property where the owners have made a conscious decision to return it to the bird- and wild-life of the area. I thought of you, although the contrast between your “cottage” and their house was huge. But! As they said, for them, living there was not the house, but the surrounds. The woman also grows her own food and transforms it. I was sent home with a pot of homemade jam.
(I have to confess though, I did remark that the only time I had been in a house this big, I was an employee working in it 🙂 )
They have it on the sales market as they are getting older and need to move to something smaller. But it will be a wrench. I think he has so far tracked and catalogued 170 birds that call their property home. They also walk their talk – hosting an ecological philanthropical organisation.
As for me, I feel your underlying panic, as sometimes the “chores” feel overwhelming. I had to fight off the sensation tonight of being on the verge of tears — and that was only dealing with the emails that have built up over the last week. How meaningless!
On another note, I recently bought some rather nice red capsicum from a supermarket with the intention of stuffing them for a group who were helping a relative vacate the post office he’s run for the last 23 years. When I realised I’d be short, the additional organic ones I bought at a country market – oh, my! Glorious, plump, vibrant – and with twice the capacity of the others. Enough to feed the horde and still have leftovers.
Until next month…
One of the things I like about the interactive nature of blogging, is to notice how the same piece of writing elicits different meanings and responses, as each person reads and interprets it from their own experience and world view. So, I love that the word “somnolent” comes up for you. And to be honest, that is definitely the energy that is inherent in the land, and what I am trying to tap into as much as I can.
The property you describe sounds amazing, and what a lovely privilege to have experienced it. I love that there are so many people out there who care for the land in their own unique way.
I love your organic capsicum story. Good luck with all those emails, Gwen. They can definitely feel overwhelming.
Oh Gwen, your tales spoke to me. I envy the enormous place the couple has, but I am more sad for them, because leaving such a special place that they have worked so hard to respect and appreciate and love…that is going to ache. Your celebration of someone leaving the post office makes me eager to write more of my novel. The main character is trying to make the decision to retire, or take a new job after her small town post office where she has worked for 18 years was just torn down. My brain is all things post office these days, ha ha. I had to look up capsicum, and now I feel even more envy. Those peppers grow well here and I have not planted them this year. I will next!
Hello Crystal, here is a link to the property at which I was so privileged to stay last month. I so hope they find a buyer who will treasure it as they do. The price is out of reach of the average buyer, so the opportunities to be choosy about who buys it are limited. https://www.realestate.com.au/property-lifestyle-nsw-berrima-700393256
Yes! Capsicum is what you call bell pepper. I made a vegetarian stuffed version. The other night, our onsite restaurant did them and my neighbour said mine were better, LOL. She found the restaurant’s version too rich. It was laced with feta cheese. Choosing that cheese would never occur to me. I use a sharp cheddar and/or a mozzarella, but only on top. I don’t blend it all through the stuffing mixture. Not that I prepare them often these days. My husband does most of the cooking while I write (although all I write at the moment is emails to libraries trying to drum op book talks!!).
It was my husband’s brother and our sister-in-law who vacated the post office. After trying to sell the business for several years, eventually they simply walked out. He is 79 and she a little younger. The community rallied to help them get the heritage 1930s building empty, cleaned, and handed back to the landlord, after Australia Post had swooped in and taken what they owned – to be transferred to another post office business in a new part of town. It was a huge and chaotic effort, and as my s-i-l is a “bower bird”, far too many things were taken back to their house instead of the rubbish skip. In fact, on two separate occasions she had volunteers empty that skip so that she could double-check exactly what had gone in. For her, the emotion and anxiety was running high. She felt as if invading hordes had over-run her space, but there was simply no time to pick through every random box bit-by-bit. The building was a hodge-podge of rooms and alcoves, and “stuff” (as well as dust) had found its way into every possible cupboard, shelf or benchtop. Plus, it had once served as the telephone exchange so there were some “interesting” windowed internal walls that served no purpose (other than to collect that dust).
A funny story. There are a few steps from the street to the entrance/s. At some moment in time a metal safety grab rail had been installed for those customers less steady on their feet. This rail had to be removed to get out the humungous ancient metal safe. (The post office was also a place to pay bills such as gas and electricity). Safe finally out in the street, grab rail re-installed. Job done.
Next day, some farming people came to get the humungous serving counter. Goodness knows when that was originally installed. It ran the width of one of the rooms. Guess what? Yep. Grab rail had to be uninstalled again!
Hours later we received a photo of the counter re-installed in this farmer’s shed. That is some mean workbench!
All ideas for your novel, perhaps. Although, in my relatives’ case, all they are doing in retirement so far is taking it easy and catching up on medical appointments. We offered to return and help with sorting out their home garage and all the other rooms which are now cluttered with “stuff”, but we were politely rebuffed.
My niece, who was one of those allocated to unpacking and repacking the rubbish skip, says “never again!” But the upside for us was that we got to spend a few days together (venting, mostly).
xx Gwen (with apologies to Jolandi for hijacking her post).
No problem at all hijacking the post. I find your story fascinating, Gwen. It also left me with a sense of exhaustion just picturing the amount of stuff. I would definitely side with your niece if I were involved in the whole process.
Gwen, I am now even more heartbroken for the couple. I have also added this property to my list of dream homes. If only…but of course we would need not only the money to purchase, but the continued income to pay a staff to keep it up. wow. You must have loved your time there.
Thank you so very much, Gwen, for the ideas for the post office. I am astonished and pleased that you mentioned an ancient metal safe, because I have already written one into my own story. Pure inspired coincidence, since I have never seen or heard of a safe in a post office, but it made sense. I had jotted a note about trying to decide how to get rid of it when the building was torn down…but have not yet worked on that part. Now I have some delicious details I can write.
Thank you for your support and ideas, and thank you Jolandi, for encouraging us to use your platform for other conversations. Love, Crystal <3
What a newsy post. Like you, I always being two steps behind. I get over it. The tales of roe deer and mongoose gave me a smile.
Maybe one day we will catch up with ourselves. 😆