Yarrow Salve inspired by Taproot Magazine. I’m using Yarrow and Lemon Balm — the chopped herbs will soak in olive oil for two weeks.
Fermented garlic scales and garlic scape relish. Amabel is in training with the fermentation master. . .
The jars are already sizzling with bubbles.
Tiny terrarium necklaces for the Artists Market. More details about our preparations coming soon!
Two months ago I stopped working at an office. Surprisingly, it is taking me much longer to let go of that part of my identity, my routine, my focus . . . and reclaim my own mental space and home schedule again. Over the past decade I’ve always “worked” in some form or another, but something took ahold of me while I was working in an office for a couple of years and becoming part of an organizational culture — something that I didn’t quite recognize until I’d left it. It was so easy to point to my well-respected, local land conservancy and say, “I work there.” It was so official. Legitimate. I liked that.
Now I squirm a bit when asked, “Where do you work?” My answer is much more complex. I get to say, “I do this,” instead of “I work there,” which is not always an easy thing to explain.
The how and why I got here is a long story, but after a bit of mental turmoil I’m ready to admit the simple truth: I am so happy to be home again. I love to work at home. I say this with joy and also with a little guilt — because whether or not my current work will materialize into income is still an unknown. So, can I still call it work? Also, now that it is summer, my days are very likely to include a spontaneous picnic or two . . . and what would the boss say?
Spring is a windy beach, still clean from a half a year of ice and snow.
Spring is a handful of radishes fresh from the moist earth.
Spring is a half-grown chick — part bird, part dinosaur.
Spring is a baby with bare arms. And bare feet.
Spring is a morning in the garden.