Consumption queen to living green: a mission in progress.

I was never a green goddess.

Never did Bikram yoga on my lunch break, prepared vegan meals like a master-chef or owned a nutri-bullet. Heck, I'd never even grown my own Kale. 

I wore make-up that could seal roads, ate McDonalds two nights in a row and often wondered if Coke Zero support groups existed. The last time I went for a good, long run was my year 5 'Cross-country Carnival' when practising the Macarena was still a solid Friday night. I spent a lot of money I didn't have, on a lot of things I didn't need. 

Then six months ago my partner and I packed up everything we owned (including one attention deficit kelpie and a 3T truck full of reclaimed timber) to head for the hills. 

We were unprepared.

Moving from inner-city Brisbane to a mountain in the D'Aguilar Ranges was a decision we made on little more than a whim. After stumbling upon an ad for the property -and knowing we could barely afford the deposit- we threw caution to the wind because we both had a 'good gut feeling' about it. We wanted a change.

Most people we knew thought we were crazy. "But why?" was the common response from friends and family members. Nobody could understand why two young 20-somethings would want to uproot to the middle of a national park. "It's just so far from everything" they cried, and well, they were right.  Located on the fringe of Brisbane, ours would be the last property before the 'Thanks for visiting Brisbane' sign and the last up the range to enjoy rubbish collection by the council. Further up, folks seemed to be on their own.

Despite opposition however, our intrepid trio (boy, girl, dog) made the move and settled swiftly into a cosy mountain cabin that enjoyed beautiful views of Brisbane City. Perched up high, we escaped much of the suffocating QLD heat over the summer, swimming at the nearby reservoir when the humidity got too much. Mu (my love), always busy building something, built us a bar on the veranda. We held evenings at our place with music, friends and plenty of wine (whilst thinking 'how did we get so lucky'?). 

The new place had room for a small workshop too, perfect for our side-business selling reclaimed timber furniture as 'Mu & Mo'. But the wildlife! There was wildlife everywhere; birds that visited each afternoon, beautifully patterned butterflies, cheeky goannas, earth worms the size of my arm and shy young wallabies. We even had a resident Carpet Python named Kelvin until our dog  Rhea enthusiastically introduced herself one morning. Shortly after that Kelvin moved out.

Mountain life was not all wine and funny stories though. We were forced to learn a lot about rural living, and fast.

Running on tank water meant Mu was up cleaning the gutters most days and my love of baths was suddenly a rare pleasure. If we ran out we had to pay to get water trucked in. Checking Rhea for ticks became an obsessive compulsion for me and we learned to share the house with (or sometimes politely remove) geckos, bugs and spiders. Then at the start of summer we had to make an escape plan for bushfire season and decide what to take with us in an evacuation. Apparently "high heels and dog" was not a well thought out answer.

Not having any neighbours took some getting used to as well. Our electricity often went out during storms, and the first night it happened I was, of course, home alone. Unable to find a torch and stuck in the middle of the forest on a moonless night, I did what can only be described a 'losing it'. Rhea was running around barking at shadows like a lunatic and I got scared. 

Hours later, I was found cuddling the dog in the bathroom, convinced someone had cut the power and we were all 'goners' (wolf creek style). 

On a separate occasion we learnt first hand what happens when a septic tank is full. For those unfamiliar with septic tanks, they store human waste. They need to be monitored so they can be pumped and collected by what I affectionately refer to as the 'poo truck'. I suppose this means it is driven by the ‘Poo Man’, but he's a nice bloke, so we just use his real name. Anyway, our septic tank overflowed. As you can imagine it was a particularly, ahem, shitty day. 

The real kicker though, was when we realised no buses drove up the ranges. I tried to think quickly and invested in a scooter that I named Patrick Piaggio. Patrick proved to be very fuel efficient, very cute, very fun and also very, very useless up hills.

Actually, it was recently, on one of many sluggish rides to the bus stop that I had the idea for this blog. Stopped half way down a steep hill, I was watching a very Zen echidna cross the road at snails pace and I got to thinking. I would never have had time for this a few months ago.

Moving to the mountain has forced me to slow my life down. Everything that initially presented as an obstacle has became a lesson in patience.

 I am more aware that I have only one life and I want to be proud of it. As a result of this, I have become more concerned with the environment, and living intentionally. I want to exercise more. I don't want to drink coke zero (mission in progress). I don't want to buy clothes from sweatshops. I want to grow more plants, maybe even Kale! I want to learn how to cook more whole-food recipes. I want to be better, and I will be.

Thus, I am beginning this blog with the following aims in mind:

-To discover & document ways to be kind to myself, others and the planet.

-To provide an honest account of going green, from someone who has really 'done all the dumb things'.

-To seek sustainability with maintainability for normal people with complex/busy lives.

H xx