I live on the edge of a small village in North Otago, New Zealand, on an acre of land on which I grow all my fruit and veg. Hens provide me eggs. I'm not quite self-sufficient: I barter for meat, fish and other food, as well as for treats.

I stopped conventional work in June 2015, aged 53, aft Read more...

I live on the edge of a small village in North Otago, New Zealand, on an acre of land on which I grow all my fruit and veg. Hens provide me eggs. I'm not quite self-sufficient: I barter for meat, fish and other food, as well as for treats.

I stopped conventional work in June 2015, aged 53, after a stressful career as an ecological policy-maker and project manager in public service.

I had long dreamt of stepping off the hamster wheel. In 1990 I had a bit of an epiphany while sitting on a cliff-top in Orkney when I realised that the only way to allow the planet to flourish was for human beings to change the way they lived in many fundamental ways. It was simultaneously frightening and exciting to realise this truth.

For years I tried to achieve change through work and my home life, but with little obvious success. In 2015 it was time to take the plunge and live the change I want to see.

Now I live lightly: a simple life which meets all my needs.

My days are mostly occupied in the garden, orchard and kitchen. And I’m as happy as I’ve ever been. It has been a revelation to discover that I am significantly more fulfilled and content being self-reliant, and no longer part of the world of constantly wanting stuff.

My simple self-reliant life has been enhanced by becoming a sourdough-baker and cheese-maker. I am quite obsessed with both.
While I am content from day to day in a way I never imagined, when I look ahead to the future of this beautiful planet I am still terrified by the blundering blindness of humankind. We all know better. So why aren't we all doing better?

On a daily basis I try to find ways to better communicate the changes that we can make to reduce the over-exploitation of the planet that humans seem hell-bent on ignoring.

In 2008 I arrived in NZ: originally from England, via Scotland and Australia. A job brought me to this country and within a couple of weeks I realised I would be here for good. I lived in North Canterbury for eight years before I stopped work and moved south in 2016 to find cheaper land and no earthquakes. 

My constant companion is Bean, a Rhodesian Ridgeback, who features in many of my Blips.

And finally, my moniker. My parents expected a fourth boy when I was born: I was scheduled to be Michael. They had no girls' names up their sleeves, but they did have a Beatrix Potter-like blue shawl in which I was wrapped. As a result Jemima Puddleduck became my name until they decided on Elizabeth (Liz). It was abbreviated to Mima, which is what Dad continued to call me for the rest of his life. He was my mentor, my role model and the name is dear to me.