Update, Song Cauli’s & Thank you

G'Day Folks,

I hope you fared well in all that crazy weather over the weekend.

This week, if you receive a weird-looking vegetable that resembles coral from the reef—well, it’s actually from a traditional Asian garden., Song Cauliflower is a unique, loose-curd variety with long, tender green stems and a naturally sweet, mild flavor. Unlike the dense white heads you’re used to, Song grows in elegant florets, perfect for quick cooking and beautiful plating.

It’s delicious raw, lightly steamed, roasted, or tossed into stir-fries—no peeling, no fuss. Think cauliflower with a snap and sweetness that kids and foodies both love.

I’d like to thank everyone who has emailed me in response to the recent chapters. I’ve greatly enjoyed reading them and responding. The reason I finally decided to write a book was to help process my inner journey. This farming journey has stirred up so many things I thought I had settled. I believe writing will help me render what is most faithful. 

What you’ll witness in my writing is someone learning how to write—learning how to document the conscious sea of thought, to study the soul's murmurings, and produce something eloquent and relatable. If you could spend time in my mind, you would begin to understand the great difficulty that presents.

Despite my writing sometimes seeming confident in its beliefs and ideas, I rarely feel that way. I am shedding my identity once again, and at times I am terrified. 

One of the loves I’ve found outside of farming is engaging in deep thought and conversation about the meaning of life—why we are here, what it’s all about, how one should live. Farming, working with Mother Nature, has cracked open a valve and broken the handle which stops the flow. 

My writing is a reflection of my mental wandering, my soul’s searching—the eternal dance most of us do, consciously or subconsciously, within ourselves, whether we realize it or not. None of us are content; static states are forbidden, they do not and cannot exist.The eternal dance exists within all of us. Or I must not be human. 

Why am I using the word “dance” instead of “struggle” to make it sound more graceful—when we all know that feeling of dread that exists inside us is anything but graceful. If you’ve never felt this dread, I may need to check your pulse. 

If you’d like to join me on this journey, I’ll enjoy your company. Please write to me if something I’ve written stirs or pokes you. We may never agree, but at least we can explore together. I’ll always be interested in what you’ve uncovered in your life—what reflections you’ve seen with your torch. For this is what endlessly fascinates me.

Thank you to Petra, who has given me great guidance with my writing. I see now I’ve been too impatient and must take more time to distill my inner maelstrom of beliefs and doubts—offering up the petals without too much stem. 

Thank you all for bearing with me as I  learned to grow great veggies over these years, and now learn to articulate and illuminate the chaos I harbour within.

Thank YOU for joining us on this epic journey & supporting Your Organic farmers!