From Homestead to Lakeshore: One Year Later

Exactly one year ago today the family and I stepped through the doorway of our lakeside home and began a completely new chapter in our lives.

For us, this is an anniversary well-worth noting, as it took nearly two years to uproot ourselves from Québec, transplant to the Halifax area and fulfill a dream.

It was always a lifestyle move: a conscious effort to slow down, be closer to nature and anchor ourselves in a coastal community where families are cherished and people are friendly.

So how did that work out for us? One year later, I think it’s time to share a peek at our family life now, tour the new Simple Bites kitchen and open up about community here on Canada’s East Coast.

A new ‘chapter’ almost doesn’t cover our transition from homestead to Nova Scotia lakeside living. Life has changed so much since we got a new home for the holidays last year, that it feels like a completely new book. The characters are the same, however; just more relaxed and at peace with it all.

The hassle of the megacity pace has been replaced with an easy mix of urban and country life — we’re right in the middle, living about 8 minutes from a Starbucks/movie theatre/Indigo bookstore-type shopping centre, but also situated on a lake across from a provincial park that feels very cottage-like.

It is indeed the best of both worlds, and this comfortable intersection is very common in Nova Scotia, where lakes abound and the ocean is never more than an hour away no matter where you are in the province.

The New Simple Bites Kitchen

You’ve been asking for a peek at my kitchen and so – please come on in. It’s small and white, practical and pretty, and it’s where I still spend most of my time.

Photo by Denis Duquette

My favourite thing about the whole kitchen is the small window above the sink which looks out over the lake. From there, I watch geese take off and land, a blue heron that comes and feeds along our shore, and the enormous, ever-changing sky.

My entire kitchen area is a mix of modern and antique. The modest kitchen triangle just didn’t have enough cupboard space for my gear, so I rescued an old hoosier (vintage cabinet, Canadian-made, utterly charming and full of history) and gave it a home in a sunny little breakfast nook.

Photo by Denis Duquette

Along with a little table for two – that also boasts a lake view – my kitchen space is complete. It’s about a third of the size of my last kitchen, but I love how cozy it is. The true heart of our home.

From this modern kitchen triangle + antique hoosier + breakfast nook, I run a home business, feed a family of five, host nonstop, and strive for a zero-waste kitchen. It’s my happy place and where I’ve been able to quiet my mind, listen to my heart and follow a new direction for my work.

Oh, and in case you missed them, here are three Nova Scotian-inspired seafood recipes:

• Simple Cioppino
• Springtime Lobster Niçoise Salad
• Citrus, Shrimp and Quinoa Salad

Lakeside Living

As I write, my view is much the same as it was when we moved in a year ago: fickle November skies reflected in a deep blue lake, swirling snow that never seems to land, and a nearly bare apple tree. The only difference is that now I have a year of memories in this backyard and lakeshore.

I can picture Clara doing backwards dives off of our floating dock and a string of kayaks heading out for an after-dinner paddle. I recall our mid-winter skating party and hear the laughter of the children and the scraping of the hockey sticks on ice. It’s been an incredible 12 months.

Like I mentioned above, we moved into our house a year ago. It was a month before Christmas, and we were exhausted. We hibernated that winter, unpacking boxes….embracing the art of slow living. Then spring arrived.

April, May, June…we watched our little acre on the lake come to life and before we knew it, everything was blooming. Then along came summer and slow living took on a whole new meaning.

Photo by Jessica Grace Photography

I spread quilts under the apple tree and the kids ate their lunches in the shade. Friends dropped by and we shared many a picnic on the dock.

Each morning brought visits from our favourite family of mallards; each evening we paused at sunset to watch the colours streak across the lake.

We found a little yellow rowboat and christened it ‘Buttercup’. Canoe rides began with morning light and lasted past bedtime. It was a hot summer and the kids swam in the lake at every opportunity.

Photo by Angela Chin

I couldn’t have dreamed this big for our family, and yet here we are. It wasn’t easy to uproot, but it was worth the effort, a thousand times over.

Anchored: On Community

I get asked the most about community. How did we make friends as adults? How did our children fare with starting over? And it’s no wonder these are your questions; we all crave connection and belonging.

What we’ve found is that Maritimers have a strong sense of community and cherish it dearly. It’s anchoring, particularly when there is so much that batters us about these days like social media and the vicious news cycle.

We knew a handful of families when we moved here, so it wasn’t a complete reset. Saints, they were, because they put up with exactly one million questions of our questions from “Where is the best butcher?” to “What is the deal with donairs?”.

Photo by Jessica Emin

My dear friend Breanne welcomed me into her book club, and solid connections were formed through that gathering. I also started my own cookbook club, which took off and continues to flourish.

People who I knew though the publishing and blogging world reached out. We joined a church through a friend’s invite. We met more families through Danny’s professional network. Our neighbours showed up to say hello and share hot cocoa on the ice. Bonds were made through school friends and at local events.

I joined few local blogging groups on Facebook – and here in the Maritimes, they actually meet up in real life. Community and networking, together.

Over time, the family and I chose a favourite farmers market, coffee shop and ice cream parlour, each visit anchoring us further to this place.

Last but not least, my sister moved here to Halifax with her family over the summer, so now we have close family nearby – the missing puzzle piece to our community.

Overall, it was a smooth transition and although we still miss our friends and family in Montréal, Nova Scotia feels completely like home.

Exploring Nova Scotia

More nature, less noise. More experiences, less stuff. More views, less screens.

Photo by Tim Chin

It was the summer of the picnic, as well as five camping trips, hundred of hiking excursions and beach outings. To say that Nova Scotia is full of hidden gems is an understatement.

Next spring I’ll write about our camping adventures in a full post because I could expound on them for pages and pages. Update: read them here: Family Camping in Nova Scotia!

We’ve only just begun our roadtripping fun, but our first summer in this province brought us to shaded waterfalls, pristine white beaches, charming country villages and thrilling seaside hikes.

Photo by Tim Chin

I need to end this post; it’s already far longer than I anticipated. But allow me say one last thing: I share all of this in hopes that you are inspired to pursue your dream.

That dream might be a change of pace, a smaller house, living near water or maybe just starting a cookbook club. It could be more camping with family or driving the famous-for-a-reason Cabot Trail here in Nova Scotia.

Whatever it is, don’t ever give up reaching and believing. Life is too short to live with regrets.