How to harvest raspberry leaves. There are small moments tucked into the daily waves of movement and noise when I sneak away. A worn, thrift-store basket tucked up under my arm, I slink out the kitchen door – never bothering to close it and risk some little one hear the squeak of it shutting. My
How to store carrots. The flowers of the spring have already bloomed and tucked back into the soil while the strong perennials take their place in the potager and greenhouse gardens. As of today, the bright blue delphinium stick above the yarrow and strawberry plants. The lovage now reaches the roof life and the market
I don’t share every recipe that I make on the blog. Unfortunately, as much as I’d like to spend time photographing each dish, I’m sure my children would begin to pound their little dirty fists on the table in protest. But every once in awhile, a dish comes along that simply begs to be shared. Einkorn rhubarb
I have to kill her. The “her” that’s always telling me to do more… be more… “live up to my potential”… and stupid things like that. She must go. As I write this, there are no less than 21,837 crayons littering the floor. And not even nice crayons. The weird chunks of broken crayons that
“Garden house”, as my friend Angela calls is, is a true struggle. While I’m bent over sinking carrot seeds into the soil, the interior of our cottage is somehow slowly exploding with mud, dirty dishes, piles of laundry, and random bits of food. Feeling quite proud of my accomplishments, I’ll venture back into the cottage
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You know what’s fun? All your kids getting the chickenpox. You know what’s even more fun? Getting the shingles yourself and then actually giving all your kids the chickenpox. Whoop! We sure know how to par-tay here on the farm. Luckily, we’re able to lay low as needed (hello, the cow is dry!) and our bathroom cabinet is
I used to sneak blog posts into nap times. Ha! Nap times? What are those? It feels like it’s been ages since I was able to sit down and process my thoughts for more than a nanosecond. And being able to type those thoughts? It’s pure bliss (at least for a writer-poser, like me). A