A break from my brushes, a week away and my favorite summer recipe.
August rolls around, and like migratory birds with an unerring sense of direction, Dan and I find ourselves drawn northward to Nova Scotia, Canada. It's become our annual pilgrimage, a 12-hour journey that feels like a time warp into a world where "cottage" means "stately old farmhouse with stories to tell."
A few years back, our friends Chad and Colu became the proud custodians of just such a place on the north shore of Nova Scotia. Built in 1866, this century farmhouse stands as a testament to bygone eras, its sturdy bones yearning for a touch of subtle modern love.
Over the past three years, we've watched our friends peel back the layers of history - quite literally. They've been on a mission, stripping away decades of wallpaper (but also leaving some, which I love) like archaeologists unearthing ancient treasures. Walls have come down, cobwebs have been banished, and slowly but surely, the old girl is revealing her true character.
It's a delicate dance they're performing, this balance between update and preservation. With each improvement, they're breathing new life into the space while carefully maintaining its old-world charm. The result is a home that whispers tales of the past while welcoming the comforts of the present- and us with it.
For the last three years, this trek has been a family affair, with Dudley, our chi/rat terrier mix, riding shotgun. At 18 years old, he's been our trusty traveling companion. But this year, we noticed our sweet old boy has been slowing down, his internal compass not quite as sharp as it once was. As an older gent Dudley struggles to get comfortable in new spaces so we made the bittersweet decision to leave him in the capable hands of a dear friend this time around.
Our annual trek north isn't just about the destination; it's about the people waiting for us at journey's end. Colu and Chad, along with their lovable rescue dog, Sugo, are what we fondly call our 'chosen family'. For most of the year, they're just a stumble away from us in Hudson, close enough for impromptu dinners and other mischief.
Colu, with two award-winning cookbooks under her belt, is a culinary queen. As I write this, she's perched next to me in an Adirondack chair, her fingers dancing over laptop keys as she conjures up essays for book number three!
Chad, on the other hand, is a creative chameleon. An incredibly talented artist, he has the uncanny ability to turn his hand to any project. Need impeccably silkscreened exhibition graphics for the walls in MoMA? Chad's your man. Fancy a handcrafted table? Chad's got you covered. The farmhouse has found itself in very capable hands.
Our friendship, always warm, reached new depths during the pandemic when we formed what we affectionately termed our 'pod couple'. Who knew that global chaos could lead to such beautiful connections?
After a brief pit stop in St. Andrews, just over the Canadian border, we arrived at "The Windy Poplars" just in time for a spectacular sunset. The house, aptly named for the stalwart trees out front that engage in a constant dance with the ocean breeze, welcomed us like an old friend.
Chad had the grill fired up before we could even stretch our travel-weary legs. Soon, the air was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of halloumi sizzling and dates-wrapped in grape leaves from the garden charred to perfection. Dinner was locally raised lamb chops, new potatoes and a perfect tomato salad, simple and delicious.
We all need a place to rest and refill our cups, and for me, this is where I can do just that. This year, I made a conscious decision to leave my paints behind, packing only a pad of paper and a pen. While I know I could easily hop into town for supplies if the urge strikes, my plan is to immerse myself in Colu's world of food, to have a go at writing (thanks for baring with, I’m a bit rusty) and to just swim, eat, rest, repeat.
Throughout the year I pester Colu to make her special vongole, it is one of my favorites. There happened to be a local fishery over in Tatamagouche with some excellent specimens so we popped over to grab a bag of clammers. The recipe differs a little each time we make it depending on what ingredients we have to hand. This years batch was a collaboration between Colu and Dan and it was right corker! Here is Colus recipe should you wish to whip it up yourself. We added pancetta and scapes:
Our days here echo summers at my nan's house - a nostalgic blend of outdoor living and shared meals. There's comfort in the mismatched plates and well-worn cutlery, each piece a silent storyteller of countless gatherings. We cook with what's on hand, turning limited ingredients into simple feasts. The weather guides our plans, and the scent of mown grass mingles with kitchen aromas. No TV, just card games, books and deep breaths by the sea, bliss. It's in these uncomplicated moments, surrounded by loved ones, that I find myself truly unwinding and reconnecting with a slower, more intentional pace of life.
As artists, we can forget that creation doesn't always mean putting paint to paper. Sometimes, it's about refilling our well of inspiration. It's about letting the world imprint itself on our souls without the pressure of immediate expression.
So, if you're feeling the weight of creative expectation, I hereby grant you permission (not that you need it!) to put down your tools. Take a break. Cook a meal. Go for a walk. Start a journal and share it, or not. Let yourself be filled up by the world around you without the pressure to produce.
So let’s all remember, fallow fields aren't unproductive - they're regenerating. Your creativity works the same way(I’m telling myself this as much as I’m sharing with you). Trust that when you return to your art, you'll bring with you a fresh perspective and renewed energy.
While I'm enjoying this creative break (fear not, I’ll be back at it soon and sharing more painty bits with you here), I know some of you might be feeling inspired to pick up a paintbrush. If that's the case, why not dive into an episode of "Art in Bloom"? There's one that captures the essence of these Nova Scotia beaches I've been describing.
You can find it streaming on MAX. Who knows? It might just spark your next artistic adventure. And if you do give it a try, I'd love to hear about your experience!
Until next time, here's to guilt-free creative breaks, making our favorite summer meals and the art of simply being.
Thank you to all of you who are kindly subscribing to this new venture. I’m still finding my feet but have lots of ideas up my sleeve (coming soon, a very special collab with the lovely Colu) and would love to hear if you have any subjects painting based or otherwise that you’d like to ‘get into’.
With love,
Helen
Beautiful!!
lovely post helen- i could feel Nova Scotia