I wrote this paragraph a few weeks ago: We all have tools in our belt for stress reduction, mental clarity and grounded goodness. We know. It’s in our guts. When
Temperatures plunged into the twenties last night, officially ending the growing season around here. Ruby and I ran though clouds of our own frosty breath to collect hundreds of green
When I stand before trees weeping with a summer’s fruit, I experience a primal shift in my guts. I am energized, electrified, entranced. Like, I’m 100% in. No waffling. Attentive
Well shit, things are heavy in the world right now. I woke up in the middle of the night last night imagining things I’d rather not imagine. Things I’ve read
Amidst the: Salad every night, snacking on sun-warmed peas, all those green tomatoes wiggling bigger every day… Bouquets of mint, oregano, chamomile, dill and lavender drying, waiting to season the
It’s summer. I don’t recall a time when temperatures were 104 degrees in June, when fishing was halted for the season, campfires so cautionary, the creek’s water feels like August.
I seem to remember (I say “seem to” because my memory is sometimes quite imaginative from when my kids were babies) people telling me – as I nursed one daughter,
hump day nuggets: bits of the season in photos and words At the dinner table last week, Ruby leaned back and the entire top half of the chair crashed to
This last weekend was THE weekend we were to wrestle our kale into jars. We’ve been tackling the more fragile, tempermental foods leaving the kale in the cold, wet garden
Last night, our neighbor did a backbend and attempted to kick over. She asked for help, Margot jumped in – silently, like a back walkover ninja – and was kicked
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