Chapter 1 – Before Noughts & Crosses

Before she became Farm Manager, Asher was simply a puppy with very big plans.

Every dream has a beginning, and ours started with what felt like an ending.

In 2017, life took an unexpected turn. My husband, Sean, left his job after standing firm against company corruption. It was a decision we knew was right, but it came at a cost. With our income suddenly uncertain, we faced difficult choices and ultimately sold our much-loved 6x3 family home in Perth, where we had raised our five children.

Life looked very different before Noughts & Crosses.

We moved south to a small 3x2 holiday cottage in the beautiful coastal town of Dunsborough.

The location was idyllic, but the reality was challenging. We were starting over in a new community, navigating unemployment, rebuilding our finances, and adjusting to a completely different season of life.

A fresh start in Dunsborough brought both beauty and challenges.

Looking back, the one constant that carried us through was our faith in Jesus Christ. When circumstances felt uncertain, our faith gave us hope, direction, and the confidence to keep moving forward.

Dogs had always been part of our family. Growing up, we found they were wonderful companions for children. However, city living and small suburban backyards meant that miniature dachshunds were the practical choice. At times we had three of them, but when we moved south, it was just Milly, Sean, our youngest daughter, and me.

As our daughter prepared to leave for university in Tasmania, Sean and I began rebuilding our lives. We established new jobs and businesses, found a new community, and started thinking differently about food, health, and self-sufficiency. We became increasingly interested in where food came from and how it was produced.

Then, in 2018, Sean announced that he wanted another dog.

Not just any dog.

A Border Collie.

As the practical one in the family, I explained that a highly intelligent, energetic working dog needed purpose, exercise, and room to move. I told him that unless we owned more than 10,000 square metres of land, it simply wasn't going to happen.

Sean took that as encouragement.

Before long, he found a beautiful 16,000-square-metre block in Yallingup. It was sloping, rocky, and full of potential. We put in an offer, started dreaming about our future home, and somewhere along the way, a Border Collie puppy named Asher was ordered.

The puppy that changed all our plans.

There was only one problem.

The land release kept being delayed.

And delayed.

And delayed.

Meanwhile, Asher arrived.

After returning home from a work trip to Perth and finding a house full of dog toys, partially demolished furniture, and an energetic young Border Collie with nowhere near enough room to stretch her legs, I finally reached my limit.

The evidence was impossible to ignore. 

"Asher needs land now," I declared.

So I went shopping.

Not for furniture.

For a farm.

A larger property in Metricup caught our attention. It was little more than a paddock with cows on it, but it had something the Yallingup block couldn't offer—space.

Eighty-nine acres of possibility.

Lots of space.

We cancelled the Yallingup contract and secured the Metricup property instead.

All 89 acres of it.

Planning immediately went into overdrive. One month later, the shed slab was poured, and Noughts & Crosses was born.

The beginning of Noughts & Crosses.

I've always loved gardening. I was experimenting with container permaculture long before it became fashionable, and first read Bill Mollison's permaculture books back in the early 1990s. Farming also runs through my family history. My grandfather was a dairy farmer in South Australia, and I suppose some of that passion found its way to me.

Sean, on the other hand, came from inner-city Melbourne, where food really did seem to come from the supermarket.

With excitement and perhaps a little optimism, I designed a complete permaculture master plan for the property, including Zones 1 through 5.

The dream was always bigger than the budget.

On paper it was magnificent. In reality, it would probably require several million dollars and a lifetime to complete.

Even today, I'm still working my way through Zone 2.

As for Asher, her world changed overnight.

She went from a two-metre suburban fence to chasing foxes almost 900 metres away at the back boundary.

"From a suburban backyard to 89 acres."

She was in absolute heaven.

The challenge then became convincing her to come back when called.

More than once, "recall training" involved getting in the car, driving halfway across the property, and beeping the horn. Before long, she learned that the horn meant playtime was over and it was time to return home.

The shed was completed and our house was under construction when COVID arrived.

Another financial challenge.

But by then our priorities had shifted.

Food security.

Health security.

Resilience.

The first flock of chicks arrived.

The beginning of our journey toward food security.

And ducklings.

Our first duckling addition.

The first vegetable beds were planted.

Fruit trees and hedgerows went into the ground.

And Asher began growing into her role.

She learned to watch over the chicks, gently allowing them to climb over her. She learned to respect the land, the animals, and the rhythms of farm life.

Learning that protecting is just as important as herding.

Together, we learned that caring for the property was about stewardship—not ownership.

The land had come to us through faith, and we believed it was entrusted to us to care for, improve, and ultimately share with others.

That vision continues today.

Noughts & Crosses is still growing.

The gardens are still expanding.

The preserving pantry is still filling.

And Asher is still convinced she's in charge.

Some things never change.

Still watching. Still working. Still convinced she's in charge.