I live on a hectare of land—my little slice of paradise and a warm escape from Canada’s icy, slippery winter wonderland.
As a senior, I’ve learned that snow and ice don’t mix well with me (or my hips). So, here I am, turning this plot of land into a lush garden that’s slowly becoming the envy of, well, mostly just me, but it’s quite the masterpiece in progress.

My hectare is a delightful patchwork of flowers, fruit trees, and vegetable beds. One part blooms with vibrant colours, while the other grows the vegetables that keep me fed and feeling virtuous about my food choices. Freshness is the name of the game here. There’s nothing like biting into a sun-warmed tomato or crunching on a cucumber straight off the vine. It’s like nature whispers, “See? This is how veggies are supposed to taste!”
We also keep a few chickens—not just for their eggs but because they’re fantastic little composters who love munching on leftovers. They strut around like they own the place, occasionally “borrowing” a bit of fruit or a veggie. I think they’re plotting to overthrow me, but I let it slide.
Of course, this garden doesn’t run itself. Enter my dream team: Romeo and Sam, the hardworking gardeners who keep everything thriving, and Jazmin, our innovation guru. She’s like the garden’s mad scientist, whipping up organic sprays and fertilizers that keep pests away without making the plants feel too “chemically.”
The Priceless Joy of Gardening
Let me be clear: this garden is not a money-making venture. It’s the opposite. I pour in more money than I get back. But can you put a price on the joy of plucking fresh vegetables for breakfast or wandering among fruit trees with a steaming cup of coffee in hand? For me, this is living.
Every morning, I gear up like I’m heading into battle: gloves on, basket in hand, cutter ready, and coffee firmly in my grasp. I stroll through my garden, saying hello to the plants, inspecting the squash flowers (are you male or female today?), and ensuring everything grows as it should. I’ve even started building more raised beds for better yields and experimenting with planting in pots. Why? Because I can and love seeing my neighbours scratch their heads and ask, “What’s she up to now?”
A Garden That Connects
Last year, I started this journey but had to leave halfway when I returned to Canada. It’s hard to garden long-distance, even with modern technology. You can get photos and videos, but nothing beats being here. There’s magic in touching the soil, smelling the herbs, and hearing the chickens cluck disapprovingly at your every move.
My hectare is more than just a garden. It’s my playground, sanctuary, and reminder that life can still be full of new beginnings, even as I grow older. The joy it brings me—watching tiny seeds grow into plants, feeding both body and soul—is priceless.
So here I am, cultivating not just fruits and vegetables but also happiness and a sense of purpose. Every day is a new adventure, whether figuring out how to outsmart a mischievous chicken or discovering a hidden zucchini the size of a baseball bat. Life on my hectare? It’s more rewarding (and hilarious) than I ever imagined.