The Wilsons: We moved to the bush...what could possibly go wrong?

When people dream about moving to the bush, they picture breathtaking sunsets, wildlife wandering past the deck, coffee with incredible views and a slower pace of life.

They're absolutely right...

They just forget to mention the rest.

Nobody tells you that you'll become emotionally attached to an inverter, that checking the weather app becomes a personality trait, or that squirrels will eventually become your landlords.

We've reached the point where the first thing we check every morning isn't the time—it's the inverter. The weather app gets checked more often than Facebook because sunshine no longer means, "What a beautiful day!" It means, "Excellent! We might actually make it through tonight without rationing the kettle."

One evening, we decided to treat ourselves to dinner. While we were blissfully enjoying a meal, our solar system quietly waved the white flag. Poor Bruno was left at home sitting in complete darkness, probably wondering if we'd abandoned him forever. We came home feeling like terrible dog parents... Bruno, on the other hand, had already forgiven us.

Then there are the squirrels...

Every morning it is breakfast on the deck and, without fail, they arrive. They chatter away, making their way on top of the roof..to almost look down on us! They tilt their little heads and watch Bruno and us as though we're the newest attraction in Dinokeng. We're convinced they're holding daily committee meetings about the strange humans who have invaded their territory. We wonder what our nicknames are!!

Speaking of wildlife, putting out our salt lick has been one of the best decisions we've made. It's become the hottest restaurant in the bush, with a steady stream of animals stopping by, and even the occasional squabble. Watching them gather there reminds us every day why we packed up our city life.

Of course, not every day looks like a tourism brochure.

We've become so accustomed to farm life that drinking borehole water straight from the irrigation source no longer seems strange. A year ago, we'd have questioned it. Now it's just another Wednesday.

Then there's the swimming pool...

If you ever want to test a marriage, buy a pool, fill it with borehole water and tell yourselves, "How hard can it be?"

Darryl has spent more time staring at that pool than most people spend watching Netflix. Every day begins with another theory, another test, another chemical and another confident declaration that, "I've figured it out."

The pool, however, remains committed to keeping him humble.

Just when he starts celebrating a small victory, the borehole decides it's also in the mood for a little drama and randomly stops working. Out come the tools, the head scratching and the muttering. At this point, we're convinced the pool and the borehole have formed an alliance purely for their own entertainment.

We're fairly certain that by the time the pool finally sparkles, Darryl will have earned an honorary degree in borehole engineering... whether he wanted one or not.

Then there was the night I was peacefully asleep when something smacked me square in the face.

Not a spider.

Not a bat.

Not even a snake.

A chunk of cement.

Our only conclusion is that the resident squirrels had been doing some unauthorised renovations in the roof and accidentally dislodged part of the ceiling. Nothing quite says "good morning" like being assaulted by your own house.

Night-time showers have become another Wilson family adventure. It literally feels like camping. Picture walking up to the cabin when the temperature dips, enjoying a glorious hot shower, then discovering your towel is still back at the house.

There's no graceful way to sprint home while trying to preserve what little dignity you have left. We call these adventures, laugh and enjoy these moments.

Bruno also decided to keep life interesting after being stung by something. Thankfully he was absolutely fine... although our fluffy carpet wasn't. Apparently, that was the most appropriate place to redecorate after vomiting. He seemed to perk up pretty quickly, but it is a different kind of worry when you are out in the sticks!

It's not all chaos, though.

I have emerged into a farm type Nigella (maybe it is all the My Kitchen Rules Darryl makes me watch), and have finally perfected a meat marinade that deserves its own fan club, and I somehow managed to make cream cheese balls from yoghurt, as well as pickling cherry tomatoes with basil and garlic! Small celebrations on my culinary journey.

The biggest milestone of all is that the cabin makeover is finally complete, and we absolutely love how it has turned out. Standing back and looking at Lioness Rest now reminds us why every late night, every paintbrush and every sore muscle was worth it.

Then Emma arrived from KZN to experience "farm life."

Within days she'd met a bee, a moth and a spider—the official bushveld welcoming committee…not to her..but to us! To her credit, she didn't run back to the airport. Instead, she embraced every moment and even joined us for a game drive in freezing 1°C.

She's tougher than she thought.

Our garden is finally starting to resemble the picture we had in our heads when we first arrived. We're learning that every fallen leaf is future compost, every branch is future firewood, and drying wood properly is apparently a skill nobody tells you about.

The funny thing is, if someone had told us a year ago that we'd spend our days discussing battery percentages, arguing with a swimming pool, chatting to squirrels, collecting leaves, drying firewood, drinking borehole water and celebrating a successful salt lick...

We probably would have laughed.

Today?

We still laugh...

Because somewhere between the inverter obsession, Darryl's battle with the pool, Bruno's adventures, the inquisitive squirrels, freezing showers and wildlife on our doorstep, we've realised something.

We didn't just move to the bush.

We found home.

And despite the chaos, the unexpected repairs and the daily surprises... we absolutely love this life.

The Wilsons xx