One thing nobody tells you about adjusting to farm life is the absolute rabbit hole you disappear down researching things you never once thought you needed… but suddenly become completely essential.
We’re currently back in Sydney collecting doors and windows for the kitchen renovation so everything can be installed before the new kitchen arrives—which feels wildly organised for us and has excitement levels running unnecessarily high.
But while we’ve been back in Sydney, an alarming amount of my time has been spent glued to my laptop researching farm life:
- vegetable gardens
- sheep breeds
- fencing
- water tanks
- antique hooks
Because apparently every country back door requires a Dryza-Bone jacket, a hat, and some sort of rustic hook situation. Surely this is standard farm procedure.
There are now so many things I want to do with the property that my brain feels like it’s running at about seventeen tabs open at once.
Ideas for the house.
Ideas for the garden.
Ideas for animals.
Ideas for future projects for the farm.
Ideas that probably require far more money and skill than we currently possess.
I’m also extremely lucky that Jaime agrees that acreage without animals makes absolutely no sense whatsoever.
So naturally, we’re now discussing:
- sheep
- alpacas
- agisting horses
- vegetable gardens
- orchards
- and whether we need “just a few” chickens or guinea fowl for the snakes of course.
Livestock terminology, however, appears to come with its own language.
I’m slowly learning that apparently you can’t just point at sheep, name one Boris, and hope for the best.
Although honestly, naming them is currently my favourite part of the planning process.
The Farm Purchase Era
I now find myself irrationally excited by things that previously would have bored me senseless.
Water tanks.
Old concrete laundry tubs.
Farm gates.
Vintage garden tools.
Second-hand timber.
Weatherproof boots.
I am becoming that woman.
I even baked sourdough for the first time in my life, which honestly feels like a significant personality shift.
Does this officially make me countrified? Or do I need to own more linen before that happens? Oh my god…
I think Jaime is slowly beginning to wonder what exactly he has unleashed here—and whether I have any understanding whatsoever of the word “budget.”
But honestly, if he’s allowed to buy “essential” tools for the shed, then surely my sheep research and antique hook obsession are equally valid investments.
There’s also been discussion around purchasing a Polaris buggy for extremely important farm jobs such as:
- collecting wood from the furthest paddock
- gathering fruit from the orchard
- checking fences
- or simply driving around because it’s fun.
Farm supply stores are also dangerously addictive.
You walk in needing one thing and somehow leave deeply convinced you now require:
- fencing wire
- gloves
- gumboots
- a wheelbarrow
- and possibly a small tractor.
Farm Life is a Different Kind of Busy
But truthfully, the biggest adjustment from city life to farm life has probably been the quietness.
Going from traffic, meetings, endless schedules, constant pressure, performance expectations, and making sure nothing gets forgotten… to this slower kind of life has been exactly what I needed.
This still feels like project management—just a completely different kind. The last kind of project management I thought I needed and had been doing most of my life and then it hit me like a garden spade to the head.
Now the projects are gardens, renovations, animals, vegetables, weather, fencing, and figuring out what on earth half the plants on the property actually are.
I’ve always believed you’re never too old to learn new things, and I think that’s what I’m enjoying most.
Sometimes the research becomes half the fun.
Creating a life.
Building something slowly.
Enjoying simple pleasures.
Watching ideas come to life.
That’s what fills my brain these days.
And while I still have a million ideas floating around in the background, I’m trying to let this chapter unfold slowly instead of racing to the finish line. Trying, being the operative word.
The Unexpected Joy of Farm Instagram
One thing I didn’t expect was how lovely the online country community would be.
Following pages filled with baby lambs, chaotic alpacas, veggie gardens, and people renovating old homes has somehow become one of my favourite parts of this whole transition.
The people are warm, encouraging, funny, and genuinely excited for each other’s projects and ideas. I am loving some of the virtual friends and also some of the ones that are real people in my area that I will meet in person.
At the moment, I’m mostly posting photos of the property and the early stages of renovations, but I’m really looking forward to documenting the process properly once all these ideas start becoming reality.
Looking Ahead
We already have friends lining up visits, which I’m ridiculously excited about.
I’m also looking forward to getting more involved in the community and exploring more of what the New England region has to offer.
Dad has previously been heavily involved in local garden shows, including the wonderful New England Garden Festival each October in Armidale, which also showcases local gardens.
There’s some uncertainty this year because of the drought and whether gardens will be open to visitors, but the festival itself is still such a lovely event and something I’m excited to experience properly. We are hoping to be ready and part of the garden show if that part does go ahead also.
Mostly though, I’m just excited about building a life that feels meaningful.
Growing vegetables.
Watching projects evolve.
Learning new things.
Making mistakes.
Improving this beautiful old property while respecting the incredible work already poured into it over the years.
It really does feel like a privilege to care for something with such lovely bones and so much history behind it.
If you haven’t read about the start of the kitchen renovation click here because there will be an update in the next month or two! Happy dance!
So while I’ll try to contain at least some of my enthusiasm, I also hope that this time next year I can look back and see how much this journey has grown and changed us.
Although ideally… with at least one decent snowfall included.
Because at this point, our Sydney friends seem to believe we live somewhere between a farm and the Arctic Circle, and I’d hate to disappoint them.
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