Tuckamore: The Story Behind Our Name and Vision for our Homestead
“Is Tuckamore your last name?” “What’s a ‘Tuckamore’?”
How do you sum up a feeling? Your vision, hopes, experiences past, present, future, your one day legacy…your everything… into a two word name?
How do you succinctly capture it?
If you know me, you know I agonized over our name and branding like our logo, colours, our philosophy (found at the bottom of our story page, it might make most sense after reading this post!), and font.
I had obsessively been rambling, writing, brainstorming, and essentially driving Lloyd (and anyone who would listen) batty to no end, and had worried that ‘something homestead’ or ‘something house’ was never going to see the light of day.
It was through the everyday, mundane task of folding and putting away laundry that ‘Tuckamore’ came to be. You know when you’re half listening, full folding, and a little bit some place else day-dreaming? That was it.
Me (folding, in our apartment bedroom): “ What about Maple…Maple Hill House…no that’s already in use. Fox Downs Homestead something? No, remember that documentary we watched where the fox were fighting amongst themselves? Was it the fox that ate the cubs in the end? I can’t remember but it’s enough to say no on that one!”
Lloyd (in his man-cave chair): “Yep. That one.”
I filled pages with sketches, jotted down words that ‘felt right’ and that signified what the homestead would be to us, to our family, and one day, we hoped, our community.
Our farmhouse build hadn’t been started yet but you know one thing I knew I wanted? A wooden sign at the bottom of the driveway.
Almost like one of those bed and breakfast crests, but with Something Homestead or Something House, on it. A sign you could see before you saw the house and know you were home.
It would be months before we broke ground on the farmstead build but I had years of pining, pinning, and planning while we served a decade’s long stint in Newfoundland and Labrador, during Lloyd’s Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) days.
I actually chose our reclaimed hardwood flooring while we lived in Newfoundland, our house plans had been years in the making. Planning the house offered comfort and hope for an eventual one day return home.
Lloyd and I both come from a small tight knit community on Cape Breton Island; an island bursting with culture, world renowned scenery, and community spirit. Our Newfoundland days were at times tough. We both missed home, family and friends, and the community we were raised by.
It was in Cape Breton that the seeds of our back to basics journey had been planted years ago. Our friends, family, and community had made us feel as though we belonged so much so that we had no choice but to return someday.
Being away were some of the hardest years for both of us, we were in tough careers (policing, and I was in the social work sector for a brief time), and felt the wear and tear of being under pressure from the demanding responsibilities our lines of work had brought us.
One of the hardest bits for me while living away was a homesick heart.
Our solace? Friendship and kindness we found in our Newfoundland communities.
The people were welcoming and offered a firmiliar community spirit we had known in Cape Breton.
The Newfoundlanders knew of similar struggles that islanders can face, changing economies from shrinking populations and the impacts those circumstances have on families and the broader community.
They got us. And accepted us as though we were their own. We were able to volunteer and get active in our church. One of my best friends was a woman a few years (or more) my senior who seemed to always know, without me needing too say it, that what I really needed was some conversation over a hot cup of tea and some sweets.
I grew up going to weekly teas with aunts on my mum’s side (a large extended family). Affectionately known as ‘hen parties’, they shaped my world and I think I have them to thank for always feeling like the oldest young person in the room.
Okay.
How did we come to choose ‘Tuckamore’?
We learned of the Tuckamore while living in a smaller northern community in rural Newfoundland.
Tuckamore trees are more so a formation, rather than a type of tree. Positioned on the harsh coastal banks of northern communities, the trees and shrubs need to grown with the wind and tough elements in order to survive.
In doing so, they form little communities and safe havens for one another, and small animals in their surrounding area.
Tuckamore prove that adversity, especially, can shape us. Sometimes we find ourselves in more harsh conditions than we might choose, but growth is possible and sometimes, discomfort brings the most meaningful of growth that will change us for a lifetime.
The Tuckamore remind Lloyd and I of our Cape Breton roots and upbringing as well as our found community of Newfoundland and Labrador.
I still get a bit misty eyed as I type that. It means so much to us to carry this name, it holds our past that’s shaped who we are and guides us to where we want to go in the future.
Flash-forward a few years later in our Halifax apartment, folding laundry trying to think of our name, I look up to see a painting we had taken back with us from Newfoundland. We spotted it while visiting Gros Morne National Park but it was a bit pricey so we decided to wait. Before we left the island to move home, Lloyd surprised me with the print, a beautiful, large scene of the Tuckamore.
Me (still folding): “No, Lloyd, the name’s got to be perfect…it’s…I’VE GOT IT…” Running out of our bedroom, misty eyed, I blurted out, “TUCKAMORE!”
Thank you so much for taking the time to pop by today!
I hope it is more clear as to why we chose the name Tuckamore and elements like the bee to signify our vision! We hope to prove worthy of the name and look forward to sharing as we continue on with this ever evolving journey.
Hope to see you again soon, -Samantha