Excerpt from Life in the Making Quarterly Issue 03:

Come to visit the farm on any given day and you will be met with piles of boots lining the hallway as you walk in. If I’ve remembered, I will have hollered at the kids to straighten them but, if not, best to keep an eye out and don’t trip on the pair inevitably abandoned in front of the door.  

As we walk into the kitchen, the counters will be lined with bread in various stages of fermentation, cheese draining, herbs drying, and stacks of veg from the garden. At least two dogs, some cats and possibly a goat kid will run up to greet you. Books and craft projects line the shelves in the dining and living room, while wet laundry hangs to dry in front of the radiators and fires.

We are makers and doers here – everyone always has a project on, and the house tells that story. What we’re not is tidy. We clean, of course, but it has to fit in amongst the other things we do and love.

Throughout most of the winter, our house sits in a shadow. The sun’s arc is so far to the south, it spends most of the day behind the Campsie Fells – tall hills that stretch from east to west towards Glasgow. Even on the sunniest of days, the light is the equivalent of soft focus – lighting the windows with merely a gentle glow.

And then one day, the sun peeps its head above the hills and light streams into the windows…lighting up every single bit of dust on the surfaces, floors and windows. I stare at the floors I most surely just swept, and see every errant speck of dust and grime. Where the moody glow of firelight made that pile of half-finished knitting look cosy, the spring light makes it look nothing less than clutter.

Every year I am certain that this must be where the trend for spring cleaning comes from. That new year light illuminating the remnants of a season spent in the muddy dark.

As a lifelong untidy person (ask my childhood best friend, Nathan, about my locker growing up), I will not give you any spring cleaning tips. I know better. However, I will share with you what we use to get this old place back from the brink and ready for the sun’s return.

Beeswax Wraps

I have to admit that it took me a long time to start making my own beeswax wraps. It felt too much like a craft project for me, despite having everything to hand AND loving the ones I have bought previously.

I tried a few different methods of making them and this is my favourite. I simply have an old paintbrush that sits in an old enamel dish of beeswax. I melt it every so often on the stove to make a batch of wraps and then store it as is in the cupboard until next time.

• Scraps of light-weight cotton fabric - old bedding and button up shirt fabric are perfect for this.

• Beeswax pellets - about 50g (1/4 cup) will cover about 1.5 yards of fabric

• Pinking shears (optional)

• Old paintbrush

• Cardboard or an old pan

1. Using your pinking shears if you have them, but don’t worry if you don’t, cut your fabric into squares of useful sizes. Use your bowls as a guide to make sure they will fit comfortably. These don’t need to be perfect and I never measure them. Just cut into a few useful sizes - you can always cut them down again later.

2. Melt your beeswax down over a low heat on a stove. It can be tricky to clean a pan that has been used for beeswax. We use an old enamel dish that we just use for melting beeswax, but. recycled tin food container works well for over the stove or a microwave safe one works if you are using the microwave.

3. Once the pellets are all melted, lay out your fabric on your cardboard and start painting the melted beeswax on your fabric. Ensure you cover the whole piece. Flip and cover the other side.

4. Let the fabric cool and it is ready to use.

To use your wraps, simply warm them with your hands and shape them around the top of the container you are covering, like you would plastic wrap.

To clean our wraps, simply wash in cool water. They may need some top up of beeswax with use, in which case, repeat the steps above.