Away we go!

Winter Wonderland

This past weekend we were invited to stay at an out of season Bed and Breakfast, working farm, in Tatamagouche, Nova Scotia, about an hour and a half from the city of Halifax. We got a late start on our journey and so the last part of the drive was in complete darkness. We were told to stop at "the big red store, you will know it when you see it" in order to meet up with our hosts, so they could guide us the rest of the way and so we wouldn't get lost. This big red store was straight out of another time. Think general store from Little House on the Prairie and you will get the idea.

 We climbed the wide, wooden steps, approached the wood and glass door, the gentle glow of light and looked in and saw a young woman standing at a long stretch of counter. We went in and as we opened the door a string of bells jingled brightly, signalling our arrival. The wide, wood planked floors creaked under our feet and I immediately saw a wall of bright coloured yarn and some knitted socks for sale. The store had all of the chips and pop of a typical variety store but it also sold locally grown meat and honey. There was  a deli-meats counter with farm-made pepperoni. My son was drawn to the candy displayed in large, brightly coloured jars within reach of tiny hands. It was the loveliest store. The owners were clearly renovating another room to the right of the door and I wondered if they would sell hardware and animal feed. I later learnt they plan to open a small cafe attached to the store.

As we waited for our hosts to meet us in front of the store to show us the way to the farm, I was so grateful for this little stopover. I wish the owners well and I hope more of these businesses emerge in rural towns and maybe even closer to the cities. They still have all of the little things we run out of and need on the way home or suddenly find ourselves running out for, but it is presented in such a warm, friendly and charming manner. I would gladly pay a few cents more for the items in this store just to share in it's character and connect with it's owners.

As we followed our hosts down an old country road and arrived at our destination I wondered what it would all look like in daylight.There is something magical about arriving somewhere unknown, and under the cover of darkness and then having the prospect of waking in the morning and the setting unfolding like a present. We unloaded groceries and our luggage, had a quick tour of the barn by flashlight and helped with feeding the goats, but after a few quick pets, we left them to go inside, my head already spinning with ideas of how to keep goats. There, we were welcomed by a warm fire, simple surroundings and almost immediate relaxation. The old farmhouse had been lovingly stripped to it's rafters, it's wood left exposed. The owners had insulated well, clad the ceiling and walls in wood and the old floors were exposed. We spent a long, happy, late night playing board games, having some dark beer and chocolate and then retiring for the night to our lovely, simple, fresh bedroom.

The next day we awoke to a magical, winter wonderland! Every branch, and every fence post was painted in white. The farm and the landscape revealed itself to us, and it was magnificent! The house was surrounded but snowy forests and hills as far as the eye could see. We ate breakfast and bundled up to help with the remaining chores. The barn and outbuildings were well constructed, out of wood, but were not old or traditional but rather fitting a modern farmer. We had missed the milking of the goats but we loaded up water in buckets and a sled with hay bales and trudged down a path to the deer field, across a small brook and opened a huge gate to a field of domesticated deer. All but one ran away into the fenced forest, but this one little girl came over and sought pets and treats. She nibbled an apple from my hand, and let me pet her head. We spread the hay out in a few spots in the field, my son climbed an apple tree to gather a few snowy apples and we trudged back towards the main house, my son riding on top of the now empty sled. We shovelled out our car, then went to feed and water the fallow deer in a field on the other side of the house.

One of the small outbuildings

We passed by several large greenhouses and learnt the farm grows and sells organic vegetables. As we approached the next deer fence and gate, we saw a large buck look, and then startle. A few powerful leaps and he was away and out of sight. We put the water buckets out for them and laid out the hay, stood and looked and there was a pheasant in the tree next to us. I looked at the summer water trough, an old bath tub and I wondered aloud if there was a way to keep the water in the tub from freezing in winter. I am going to try an experiment next year at home. I want to dig a huge pit, fill it with manure, like people sometimes do to keep a cold frame warm, cover it with hay and then put an old metal bathtub on top, just a little above the ground. I think that as the manure rots and gives off heat, it may keep the water from freezing except in extreme cold. I look forward to blogging all about a steaming pile of poop and it's warming affects!

Washing station

My husband said "hey Sarah, get on" motioning to the empty red sled. I hesitated, smiled a big grin, and got on. It jerked and I fell backwards as he took off but managed to stay on. He went straight, slowed to go over a bridge just a bit narrower than the sled! He got going again, faster and rounded a corner I flailed but stayed on, laughing all the way (ha ha ha). Another corner and we were back at the house. A snow ball fight, and a snow man later we went inside, stripped off layers of damp winter clothing and collapsed by the fire, the snow on our mitts and boots sizzling and steaming, as they too warmed by the wood stove.

We had lunch, coffee and sat around chatting, my son in his long johns. Not once did I think of TV, computer or Internet. We soon had to pack up and head home to feed and water our own small animals. It was all over too soon. I was sad to leave but glad we left with such a perfect, relaxing and joyous memory. As we turned out from the driveway we drove along under snowy trees and looking at beautiful vistas, I regretted momentarily not taking more photos but sometimes you are so busy living in the moment, you forget to capture it on "film" or digital media as it were. I went home recharged, with lots of ideas, inspiration and memories.