When the girls are home, we buy prosecco by the case. It’s our drink. Icy cold poured slowly into a tall frozen flute, prosecco is the perfect summer drink. For fun, we add different combinations of muddled fruit and herb … Continue reading
So you remember four years ago, Ralph and I were sitting on the veranda cooking up our next farm project when he says, “I think we should build a pond.” “A what?” “A pond. We’ve been talking about a swimming … Continue reading
It was a great week. The vegetable garden is finished except for a few less hardy things like eggplant and an assortment of peppers; bell, jalapeno and cayenne that I’ll plant after the full moon in June. Deer fence is … Continue reading
It happened, again. Another winter over. I’m not sure if it’s the bone shattering cold, the conveyor belt of darkness or the sameness every day that keeps me from embracing six months out of every year. Whatever it is my … Continue reading
My kitchen looks like a bomb went off, when I cook. Summer’s winding down leaving us short on time to spend with friends here at the farm, so we doubled booked this weekend. Friends over-night Friday then different friends over-night … Continue reading
We haven’t had rain for weeks. As the heel of my work boot hits the top of my garden spade, the force drives it deep into the parched soil. The well-rooted older gardens brave the drought with hardened patience. They understand … Continue reading
RIGHT TURN CLYDE! For those of you who remember my jubilation last summer when I’d discovered that my struggling teeny black current shrub had miraculously birthed an over-flowing pound of ripe juicy berries, you’ll understand me being tickled beyond pink … Continue reading
Five years ago, I planted a Montmorency cherry tree outside my kitchen door. Today, I picked cherries from that tree and made these sour cherry muffins. Food bliss… Kaitie’s home. Mom, let’s go feed the horses. Rubber boots on bare … Continue reading
THE FARM IS DRIPPING WITH ROSES. Climbing roses, wild roses, old-fashion roses and rambling roses have exploded at the farm. Every nook and corner is bursting with their perfume. When the air is still, you can taste their sweetness. When the wind … Continue reading
My love language is food. What’s yours? Saturday, while I was preparing food, I thought about how much I enjoy cooking. Every part of it. The menu planning, grocery shopping, kitchen time and, best of all, eating with people I … Continue reading
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