Take subscription culture: every gosh darn thing has become a subscription. We no longer buy things once and own them (remember videos? DVDs? CDs?). Instead, we pay rent to access them- forever and ever, amen. Just another sixteen dollars and ninety-nine cents (every month, mind you) for something that used to just belong to you once you’d paid for it.

And what about insurance? I have paid for car insurance for my entire driving life- yet I’ve never had a ticket, never had an accident, and never filed a claim. But year after year, I have paid thousands of dollars into something I have never used and there is no point at which I’m finally greeted with a medal of honor that says: Congrats! You did it! Well done, now here’s some of your hard-earned money back.

Now, I of course understand why insurance exists; I understand that things happen. But sometimes, I find myself looking at the whole bloated system and wondering why on earth it is that being responsible gets you the same results as being irresponsible. You both just keep on paying regardless.

And that hopeless reality runs through so much of life today: Work more in order to earn more so that you can pay and subscribe more, and then replace more so that you can keep up with more.

Am I wrong?

For many (if not most) families, the one income reality of the fifties is no longer attainable in our modern era, even if our lifestyle doesn’t look much different than it did seventy years ago. Everything costs more: housing, childcare, healthcare, you name it. We have more conveniences than generations before us could have ever even imagined- and yet, somehow, they require more work and more of our efforts in order to have them. And then, after working enough to pay for said life, we are synchronously expected to absorb the entire world.

Every war, every drought, or natural disaster (take your pick). Every murder, every missing person, every crooked scheme, every cruel word spoken by total strangers thousand of miles away.

Prior to this wild time in which we live, people primarily only knew about the troubles within their own village. That didn’t mean that they lacked compassion or empathy for those elsewhere- it meant that the human mind was never intended to carry the suffering of millions.

And with that knowing, comes the inevitable obligation of having an opinion about it- and not just any opinion, but the politically correct one. Immediately. We are expected to know which side we’re on before we even have time to figure out what happened. We’re quickly sorted into camps, arguing with people we’ve never met, seeing neighbors not as neighbors but as representatives of whatever group we’ve decided they belong to.

Every single thing has become political, a statement, another reason to divide ourselves from our neighbors- you know, the ones that Jesus commanded us to love? (Mark 12:31).

I’m just so tired of living in a world where eating something requires so much research. I’m tired of having to channel my inner Sherlock Holmes whenever I go grocery shopping. I don’t want to stand in the aisle staring for five minutes at a nutrition label wondering what I might be overlooking.

Yes, ordinary life has become unordinarily complicated, there’s no sense in trying to pretend that it isn’t.

The Bible has never eluded to humans being able to gradually perfect itself if only we educated ourselves enough, or became more technologically advanced. In fact, it very plainly tells us to expect the opposite. That critical times hard to deal with would be here and that wicked men and imposters would advance from bad to worse.

So, as a Christian, none of this should surprise me. But knowing why the world is the way it is does not always make living in it any less exhausting.

I have the glorious hope that better things are ahead and I believe that to the core of my being. But I am also living here, now, in this difficult in-between place where I know that this world is temporary and yet I still have to buy groceries in it, pay insurance in it, raise kids in it, earn money in it, and determine how much of its noise I’m willing to allow into my home.

And it is because of these things that my pursuit of a simpler life is constantly evolving. There was once a time when I thought that simplicity was mostly about doing the things that our grandparents did: growing a garden, making bread from scratch, raising livestock, harvesting and preserving food, decorating a home with beautiful things that have stories and history instead of things that arrived in an Amazon box.

I still love and do all of those things.

Mayhap all of this is why the seasons and living according to their rhythm has become ever the more important to me. The world immediately outside my front door operates according to a beat all its own- in spite of advances in technology, in spite of the pressures of society’s demands.

The waning heat of summer doesn’t give a crap about what people are arguing about today- it’s going to ripen those tomatoes without a care in the world. The berries come, and they go. The sun rises later and sets sooner. The autumn frost will sweep in, the leaves will fall, as will the snow. And before we know it, spring will be here once more- whether the headlines are bad…or worse.

What a gift, that. What a reassuring blessing to be able to participate in a rhythm that no man could invent.

That is what I’m searching for when I talk about living a simple life.

It’s a life where the things nearest to me receive the bulk of my attention- not the voices that are shouting loudly from the ether. It’s a life where I know exactly which season I am in, what my family’s needs are, who might need a little pick-me-up, and when it’s time to put the stupid phone away.

It’s a life in which I recognize and accept that my responsibility is not to the carry the weight of the whole world upon my narrow shoulders. I don’t know that I can fully make peace with the world we have built, and there are days when I look at it and feel more like an alien than I ever have before. But maybe I don’t need to make peace with all of it. Maybe I just need to become more intentional about what I allow to shape my tiny corner within it.

There’s still food that needs making, people that need loving, produce that needs picking, neighbors that need neighboring. The loud, crazy, demanding world full of its divisions and fear is not so loud after all. Not in this house.

Even so, I still wait for something better. It is coming, we are promised so by a loving God who cannot lie (Hebrews 6:18). And while I wait on His timing, I’m going to continue tending what has been placed in front of me:

my faith

my family

my home

my animals

my friends

my community

the season I’m actually living in.

Living a simple life isn’t about escaping the modern world entirely. It’s learning how to live in it without letting it have all of you.

But I know that it’s coming. And as someone who depends on a space that is clean, organized, and well prepped in order to perform properly- I know how important it is to set the stage for the heavy harvest season.

Here’s a few things that I like to do to clear the way for the work ahead.

Make Freezer Room

I know I’ve already discussed this year about how important it is to stay on top of your freezers- especially if you have chest freezers. In the coming weeks, we will not only be harvesting and freezing a large amount of produce, but we will also be processing eighty-plus meat chickens and three pigs. And that’s before hunting season is even upon us. This is the last opportunity to make sure that all of last year’s meat and produce are brought to the top of the freezer and organized in a way that makes sure it gets used first (rather than buried).

I’m also going to make sure I use up any of last year’s frozen tomatoes, peppers, onions, etc when making/canning anything that requires those ingredients this season. So before I make a batch of spaghetti sauce, I’m going to be sure to get any of that frozen produce into that batch.

Last year’s berries will be prioritized into the first jams or syrups or ice creams or baked goods that I decide to make- before using this year’s berries.

This is also the time where- if you have multiple chest freezers as I do- I get very intentional about which items go into which freezers. I have one freezer that houses primarily garden produce, while another is for chicken, another for beef/pork, and finally the one closest to the kitchen is for things I’m reaching for daily.

Inventory the Pantry

Before I start canning, I’m definitely going to take inventory of what is still on the shelves from last year. I have a lot of canned corn yet from last year, so this year I might freeze more. Some years I have way too many jars of green beans and pickles, so I might not grow as much of those next year- or at least I won’t focus so much on canning those and instead using them for something else.

I also like to clear out any of last year’s root cellar produce: sprouted potatoes, onions, garlic, etc.- get rid of all of the old before bringing in the new.

In addition, I take note of what I ran out of too soon. Despite making nearly seventy pints of salsa last year, we ran out a few months ago. I will need to make more salsa this time around. But I still have a little bit of pizza and spaghetti sauce, which means I canned just the right amount. I didn’t can any sweet meat squash or pumpkin last year, so I will definitely be including those this year.

We want to be spending our time wisely when it comes to canning and storing food, making sure that we are actually eating what we spend our time processing.

Clear the Shelves

We’re still in the pantry, so let’s bring all of those old jars to the front, making sure to put new jars behind them as we start canning. Wipe off the tops, clean the shelves, organize them in a way that best suits your needs. I like to keep all of my tomato products on the closest shelf as I reach for them the most. The pie fillings, maple syrup, pumpkin, etc.- those can be on a shelf that is further away as I don’t use them as regularly as the tomato products.

I also like to group like things: meat and stocks together, canned vegetables together, fruits and jams together, tomato products together, etc.

My canning jars are stored in my crawlspace, which is the same area where my canned goods live. Last spring, I bought some large totes to house all of my jars, and I’ve separated them by size. So pint jars and quart jars live in separate totes. That way, when I’m canning, I know exactly where to go to get the size jars that I need.

This is also a great time to clean out anything that has ended up in your pantry that doesn’t belong there. This is a task that I try to complete in both the spring and the fall.

Gather Supplies

There’s no better feeling than starting out your preserving season with everything you need on hand. Now is the time to get stocked up on:

Be sure too to locate your jar grabber, funnel, lid lifter, and inspect your canners (I had to replace seals and weights on both of my pressure canners last year).

Clean Your Equipment

Give all of your equipment a good look-over and clean it well. This includes your pressure canner, water bath canner, steam juicer, dehydrator, freeze dryer, food mill, sauce master, apple corer/peeler, etc..

Wash all of the parts, inspect them for damage or wear, put all of the pieces together and be sure you’re not missing any of them. And if these are tools that you’re only using this time of year, make room for them. Clear a shelf. Designate a corner. If they’re accessible, you will use them.

Prepare the Kitchen for Work

While I love and appreciate a beautiful kitchen- including a kitchen that sports knickknacks and lovely things whose sole purpose is to look pretty- now is the time to clear those things out of the way to make room (if needed) for the more functional effects.

Clear all unnecessary clutter. Make sure your biggest bowls are at hand, cutting boards are cleaned and ready, knives are sharpened, and extra dish towels are in the drawer.

I also like to give some thought to work flow:

These thoughts and subsequent intentional improvements can go a long way in the functionality of your kitchen during this season.

Catch Up on the Rest of the House

This of course is easier said than done- but if I can get the rest of the house in order before this season hits, it will be much easier to keep up on it.

Get those cobwebs up in the corners, the fly goo on the light bulbs, deep clean the floors and corners that get neglected the most. Wash the throw blankets on the couches (and vacuum under the cushions while you’re at it). Tackle the laundry pile, give the tub a good scrub.

Anything you can do to take the pressure off when you’re extra busy in the kitchen in the coming weeks.

Stock the Kitchen for Easy Meals

Meal planning really falls to the wayside for me during the summer. But it’s time to get back on the wagon and plan some easy meals for the next couple of months. If I can keep my cupboards stocked with pasta and if I can be sure to brown up extra hamburger or cook some extra chicken, then I can have things on hand that can easily be reached for when I’m short on time to make supper.

I’m definitely not suggesting you have to make up a bunch of freezer meals. But if we just have some go-to essentials on hand so we don’t have to find ourselves at 4:00 PM wondering what we’re going to eat, that will save us so much time and effort.

Start a Running Harvest List

This time of year is often dictated by what needs immediate attention- and what can wait. A simple notebook on the counter (or scrap paper) can act as your command center for the harvest season.

This will help with combining jobs. If I have tomatoes that need to be picked today, but I’m also anticipating them needing to be picked again later this week, I might just throw today’s harvest into the freezer and wait to process them until my next harvest- or until I have enough tomatoes to do what I want with them. That way, I’m not pulling out equipment twice or having to set aside two days for canning instead of one.

Think Ahead to Storage Crops

We’re obviously not putting everything into jars or into the freezer. Let’s give some thought to:

It’s not fun when you’ve pulled a few hundred pounds of potatoes out of the ground, only to discover you don’t have anywhere to cure them.

We’re Ready.

Just as I love a good spring cleaning: clearing the way and planning for the planting and growth to come over the summer, I do love a good fall prep as well. This is the time of year when our dreams are being realized. When the possibility becomes more tangible.

Our baskets are filling, the plants are hanging heavy with green tomatoes, the potatoes are waiting underground.

Preparing the kitchen, our pantry, our storage spaces, and our home is in its own way part of bringing in the harvest. I’m making empty spaces because I know that soon, they will be filled.

And yours will be too.

Happy harvesting (and prepping!), my friend.

But there comes a time every summer when things start to get overgrown, start to die back, and I’ve pretty much tapped out with the weeds. That time usually comes around the end of July/beginning of August. It’s where I start to notice what was worth my time- and what wasn’t.

It’s time to make note now of what those things are- before a new season shaded in rose colored glasses is upon us.

What Am I Actually Eating?

By now, it’s already obvious what I’m actually eating- and what I’m allowing to go to waste.

Let’s start with broccoli. I looooove broccoli. But you know what I don’t love? Frozen broccoli. Fresh broccoli I could eat all day; frozen broccoli is for the birds. Yet in the spring, I’m blinded by my love of broccoli, and as a result I plant 36 broccoli plants. The problem is, they all produce heads at the same time. And what I can’t eat fresh ultimately gets thrown to the chickens.

This is not a good use of my time or my space. I don’t want to be wasteful. This is where I need to recognize the distinction between “I like broccoli” versus “I need to grow all of the broccoli”.

The solution is twofold: plant a smaller number of plants in the spring, and at that time start plants from seed that can be sown in the fall.

Perhaps you’ve found yourself in the same boat- with broccoli, or with something else.

As much as I love broccoli, at least half of that space could have gone to a storage crop that would not have gone to waste. And watching those beautiful heads bolt makes me feel awful.

On the other hand, I never tire of harvesting strawberries. They happen to come on when my garden energy is high and before the heavy harvest time has hit. It’s easy for me to head out to the garden two or three times per day and fill my basket. They are easy to pick, clean, and can be thrown in the freezer with very little work. I never let strawberries go to waste. That is a crop worth my time and growing space.

What Am I Growing For: Fresh Eating for Storage?

We can only eat so much fresh because the produce only lasts so long. Therefore, we should be giving less space to those things if we’re ultimately gardening for long-term use.

For me, those fresh-eating foods are lettuce, broccoli, snap peas, radishes, and slicing cucumbers.

Crops grown for preserving include tomatoes, berries, pickling cucumbers, corn, green beans, and herbs while crops grown for storage include potatoes, garlic, onions, carrots, and winter squash. Those should be given priority in my garden.

What is More Work Than It’s Worth?

Rather than viewing your apathy as failure, let’s use it as data for next year’s garden. Put a price on your garden space. What is truly worth the time and the ground in which it’s planted? That doesn’t mean there isn’t room for growing things simply for the pleasure of growing them- but pleasure is the point if that’s the case. If it just isn’t worth stressing over pests or disease or other care, then replace it with something that is worthwhile.

What Do You Wish You’d Planted More Of?

We don’t necessarily need to focus only on what we should cut back. We can also recognize the shortages. Do you find yourself rationing a certain crop because there just isn’t enough? Was there something that you were sad to see come to an end? What will you wish you had come February?

Those are the things that you might want to grow more of or succession plant. For me, I always regret not succession planting bush beans. Because I primarily grow pole beans for canning and just a handful of bush beans for fresh eating, I always find myself wanting more fresh green beans.

Sometimes the issue simply is just timing. If it all comes at once, there’s a lot of pressure to preserve it all or let it go to waste. But if we focus on succession planting so that we’re harvesting over a longer period of time, that will give us the opportunity to enjoy what we grow fresh and also give us less to preserve at one time.

Great examples of this would be not only the broccoli and bush beans, but things like lettuce, carrots, snap peas, beets, etc.

Notice Where the Garden Isn’t Working

Are you paths too narrow? Are you struggling to push your wheelbarrow through the rows without ripping out potato plants? Which beds seem to dry out the fastest? Do you notice yellowing leaves on your plants signaling a lack of nitrogen? Maybe a simple soil test might be in order.

I’m also observing my perennial flowers this time of year. Where do I want more color? What might benefit from a trellis? What areas are struggling the most with weeds?

Let’s not wait until winter to try to remember these pain points. Take note of them now so that you can make adjustments when the beds have been pulled and the garden lays fallow.

What Should You Buy Instead of Grow?

This isn’t always the easiest question to confront as a gardener- because we want to grow it all. I get it. But sometimes, especially if you’ve found yourself year after year struggling to grow something successfully, it might be best to source a local option and use that space to grow what you are good at growing.

Take each of your crops and ask, “Is growing this the best use of my garden?” If not, then maybe you can swap with a fellow gardener. Maybe she is better at tomatoes while you’re better at cucumbers. Plan out an exchange.

Get a Journal

If you don’t already have one, start a garden journal. Or even use the Notes app in your phone if that’s more your style. At the top of the page, make four headings:

Throughout this month as you wander the garden, assign each of your crops to one of these categories. Give some thorough thought to everything you plant, from vegetable to fruits to berries to perennial flowers. And be specific. Rather than simply telling myself, “Plant less broccoli”, I might say, “Plant six broccoli plants in spring, start six more and plant out late summer. Fresh eating only.” And then use these honest reflections as guardrails when those seed catalogs start arriving next winter.

The August Gardener vs. The January Gardener

In those late winter months, we’ve long forgotten about the slugs, the blister beetles, the cabbage worms, and the rust. We no longer feel the regret of the bolted lettuce, the giant cucumbers that got tossed over the fence, or the rotting fruit in the fridge.

So before the frost comes and wipes the garden slate clean, let’s listen to what the garden is telling us right now. We may not necessarily have a bigger garden next year or more food. But hopefully, it will grow more of the food we actually want in quantities we can actually use, and with an amount of work that we’re actually willing and able to give it.

Here’s a list of my favorite things to throw in the freezer for later.

Berries

Berries are top of mind at the moment because we just so happen to be in the thick of berry harvest time. My dear friend Andrea and I stole away for a few hours of blueberry picking this morning. I came home with four more gallons of blueberries that need to be sorted, cleaned, and stashed away. The great thing about berries is you can spread them out on a sheet pan, flash freeze them (to prevent clumping together), and then put them into bags or containers to be processed into jams, jellies, pie filling, or whatever else I’d like when the winter months are upon us. I do almost all of my jam and jelly making during the depths of winter. No need to turn your kitchen into a sauna during the heat of summer- do your jam making when you actually want the extra heat in the house.

Tomatoes

Tomatoes are so incredibly simple: throw them into a large freezer bag until you either have enough to make a batch of whatever you’re wanting to preserve, or until you have the time to deal with them. Once thawed, the skins slip right off, thus eliminating the need to blanch and peel like you do when they’re fresh.

Bell Peppers/Hot Peppers

You can chop your peppers first (which I usually do with bell peppers) or freeze them whole (as I do for smaller hot peppers like habanero, serrano, chilis, etc.). I put them in plastic freezer containers and they keep incredibly well in the freezer.

Onions

I once had all of my white onions bolt in the garden, which makes them unable to be stored. So I bought a pair of goggles specifically for chopping onions (I cry like no other) and set about chopping them in my food processor and scooping them into 8 oz. freezer containers. Every time I needed an onion, I would simply grab one of these containers out of the freezer and dump them into whatever I was cooking. They thaw and cook up in no time! Freezing your onions is a great storage alternative for those who don’t have a cool place to hang their onions for the winter or for those who live down south who can’t grow good storage varieties.

Rhubarb

I talked about this one earlier in the season, but rhubarb is so simple to freeze. Just chop and put it into freezer bags to use during the winter. I love anything that doesn’t require blanching!

Herbs

Most people like to dry their herbs, but with regular drying you lose a lot of color and freshness. Take basil, for example. It has almost no flavor once dried (with the exception of freeze dried, which I love). So if you really want to preserve the flavor of your herbs, consider chopping them up and freezing them in ice cube trays with a little bit of olive oil. Or chop them and mix them with butter to create your own custom compound butters.

Zucchini/Summer Squash

It is so simple to shred and freeze zucchini and summer squash and pack into freezer bags. This way they can be used all winter long for breads, muffins, cakes, and soups. Be sure to squeeze out excess moisture before freezing.

Pesto

Garlic scape pesto is something I eagerly look forward to every year. I make up large quantities and freeze in jelly jars. The same goes for basil pesto (or any other kind of pesto you can dream up); whip up a batch in your food processor, transfer to jelly jars, and freeze. My pesto holds up for years in the freezer.

Sweet Corn

While I do can a lot of corn, my most favorite way to preserve corn is by cutting it from the cob and putting it into a roasting pan with butter and heavy cream. I then bake it, cool it, and measure it out into freezer bags. It’s absolutely divine!

Stone Fruits

Cherries, plums, choke cherries, peaches- these can all be frozen whole. I love to pick and freeze choke cherries and then juice them later in my steam juicer to make jelly or syrup.

Soup Starter/Stock Bags

I always keep a 2-gallon bag in my freezer that I add different scraps to from whatever I’m cooking: onion skins, chicken backs, wing tips, or carcasses, the ends of carrots and celery, etc. Once that bag is full, I use it to make chicken stock. But another thing I do around harvest time is create soup starter or stock bags with my extra produce. When I have an excess of carrots, celery, onions, garlic scapes, etc., I will divide them into freezer bags to have a base for whatever soup I’m wanting to make in the future. So incredibly handy, especially when you’re in a hurry!

Peas and Green Beans

While both of these can be canned (I’m defnitely in the canned green beans camp, but I know many prefer them frozen), these should both technically be blanched first, flash frozen, and then doled out into freezer storage.

Other Ideas to Consider

I have a walk-in cooler where I can hold over or store large quantities of produce such as carrots and apples. That means I can keep big boxes and barrels of apples until I’m ready to process them. But if you don’t have a good place to stash those, apples also freeze beautifully (just add a bit of lemon juice to prevent browning) and in doing so, makes future applesauce making a breeze.

The same goes for carrots; I can store them in a tote in my walk-in all year long. But they are another crop that freeze incredibly well. If you’re going to use up your carrots within a couple of months, you don’t need to blanch them. But if you want them to hold longer, dice or slice them up and blanch for 2 minutes prior to flash freezing them.

Freezer Containers: Glass or Plastic?

I never like to put any sort of hot or warm food into plastic, so when freezing things like stock/broth, soups, etc., try to use wide mouth glass jars. Never pour hot food into cold jars; cool the food first and then pour into your jar, only filling it about 3/4 of the way. Then transfer to the refrigerator first and cool completely before finally moving the jar to your freezer. This will prevent your jars from cracking in the freezer.

As I’ve already mentioned, I like using freezer deli containers in varying sizes for freezing berries, onions, peppers, etc. I keep a stash of 8 oz, 16 oz, and 32 oz on hand for these purposes. I also keep a supply of these 8 oz. ice cream containers for when I make my homemade ice cream and gelato. This is the perfect single-use size for my family- and another favorite way to process and freeze my berries in the summer.

As far as freezer bags, I like to keep quart, gallon, and 2-gallon bags on hand this time of year. The largest bags I use for bones and carcasses for making stock. It’s also what I use for freezing rhubarb, whole tomatoes, and soup/stock bags as those are typically frozen in large quantity.

I hope this takes a bit of pressure off of you as the produce starts coming in from the garden. Let’s not lose our sanity this late in the summer! Freeze it now, deal with it in a few months when things have slowed down and you’re looking for ways to brighten up those dark days of winter.

Happy preserving, my friend! I’ll see you next week,

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The month of July in my Zone 3b garden always starts out with a bang: the peonies and roses are in bloom, the strawberries are coming in by the bucketful, and all of the broccoli is ripening at the same time. It’s beautiful and chaotic and everything I dream of during the darkest days of winter.

Before the month is half over, I’ve pulled all of the garlic scapes, processing them into pesto, compound butter, and have blended the rest with olive oil to use as flavor bombs in future soups.

I ended up with eight gallons of strawberries this year- my best season yet. I made several batches of homemad gelato, as well as jam and my favorite starawberry rhubarb lemonade which I shared with you earlier this month. The rest are in the freezer to be processed when the heat of summer has passed.

The garden, while productive, has had its fair share of pests this year. Weather-wise, it’s been rather chaotic. We had a very long winter, almost no spring, and we didn’t get any heat forever. But then we got high temps, drought, and forest fire danger. I imagine this all plays into the pests we’re seeing this year.

I have several ant nests all over my garden- and property, for that matter. So many ants. It’s also been a year of worms: cut worms earlier this season in the corn, but thankfully after losing about 3 dozen plants or so, they got big enough that the worms couldn’t do much more damage. We have cabbage worms and some other type of worm that’s been trying its best on the pole beans, which thankfully are unphased thus far and are doing just fine. Slugs decimated a few of my broccoli plants while the majority fared just fine. I haven’t had as many slugs as I have this year in a very long time.

But I’ve only seen a few blister beetles on the potatoes this year, whereas I usually have dozens. And I’ve also not seen a lot of grasshoppers, which we also typically have plenty of.

Chipmunks have been mowing down my carrots, chewing off the tops. Thankfully I always plant a lot of everything, so I can afford to lose some. But it’s irritating nonetheless.

I have two beds of garlic, one that was planted from my own garlic seed that I’ve been saving and planting for the past 12 years- and that bed looks amazing. But I decided to try out a new variety this year, so I ordered garlic seed from Keene Organics, and while I know that new seed won’t produce as well as what I’ve been saving and replanting for years, I’m a little disappointed in how that bed is doing. It seems to be dying back already, whereas my other bed is not at all. And since I always replant my biggest garlic cloves, I will likely harvest and store the garlic for the new bed and replant most of the garlic from my other bed.

The onions and shallots look great. As mentioned in my Onion Growing Guide, I plant dormant onion and shallot plants from Dixondale Farms. This year I’m growing Patterson (yellow storage variety), Redwing (red storage variety), and Traditional Shallots.

The potatoes, despite having a slow start with the cold soil this spring, also look good. I planted Yukon Gold, All Blue, and Pontiac. I usually plant Kenebec, but I’ve been dealing with some rot with those and opted not to grow them this year. The Golds are my favorite and store super well, as do the blues. I only plant reds for fresh eating as they don’t store quite as well.

Most of the sugar snap peas have been harvested, and I’ve been fermenting them (I will share the recipe below). Fermented snap peas in the shell are my favorite way to enjoy them, so I hope you like them too! The shelling peas will be picked by the time this newsletter goes live, hopefully blanched and in the freezer.

I planted my most favorite squash- Sweet Meat Squash- along the north side of my corn patch. The east side has Sugar Baby Pumpkins, while the west side has a fun mystery mix that I found on Amazon. They’re already creeping and crawling their way through the corn and up the stalks. It’s likely to be a bit of a mess, but in the end I’m expecting to have way more pumpkins and squash than I could possibly need.

The corn itself looks amazing. “Knee high by fourth of July” is almost never achievable here as we have to plant later than most, but I’m happy to report that it’s “shoulder high by the end of July”! I’ll take it. We have to pray that we don’t get a frost that first week of September. There is a full moon August 28th, and if there’s ever a chance of frost, it’s typically around the full moon. If we can escape that one, the next is September 26th. Call it a myth or not, this gardener knows that frost loves to strike alongside that full moon. Even so, we plant a massive plot of corn knowing full well we might never taste any of it. It’s a risk we’re willing to take.

The tomatoes in the high tunnel are starting to look better. They didn’t seem to be getting very tall, and yet producing fruit. I think they were a bit stunted by the heat and likely needing more water than I was giving them. Since I’ve started watering more, they seem to be gaining some height.

My only real complaint thus far as far as crops is the cucumbers. They were the very last thing I planted, and I put them in a bed that gets a bit too much shade. My currant bushes on one the right, hollyhocks and rhubarb on the left, raspberries and a snowball bush at the back. They just don’t look very promising, but I had an incredible cucumber year last year and so I remind myself that you don’t get to have it all every year.

The end of July brings with it a bit of wildness in the garden. Things start flopping and dying back. The honesuckle has finished blooming, and the Sweet Autumn Clematis that shares a trellis with it has fully taken over and just starting to bloom. It’s stunning.

The roses have mostly finished blooming, save for the New Dawn climbing rose, which keeps on going. Hollyhocks just started blooming, and the milkweed is full of monarch caterpillars on the brink of forming their cocoons. I have more bumblebees this year than ever, and have seen more monarch butterflies than in years past, which makes me feel so hopeful.

The bee balm, daylilies, Asiatic lilies, and all of the sedum are blooming. Coneflower, cosmos, and phlox are just about ready. And with them, the hint that fall is just around the corner. Can you believe it?

In the Kitchen

I have fallen in love with homemade ice cream this month. Although I’m not new to making ice cream, I’ve been having so much fun discovering simpler recipes that allow me to whip up a special treat at a moment’s notice.

I was first inspired to delve into the world of homemade ice cream by Tara Couture at Slow Down Farmstead, who introduced me to the idea that ice cream could actually be a health food. Plenty of egg yolks, raw cream, a bit of honey, fruit. I ended up purchasing the book The Perfect Scoop*, using the custard base for all of my ice cream endeavors. But making a custard base requires time- time cooking on the stovetop, straining, cooling down in an ice bath, and chilling in the refrigerator for hours. Which is all good and well when you plan ahead and have made the time for it.

But I’ve found with each summer that passes, I have less forethought and am often flying by the seat of my pants during those short, blissful months.

Yet I still want to eat ice cream.

So I’ve been setting aside the creamy custard for this season, and opting for a much more simplified process involving cream, milk, sweetener, and sometimes fruit. One that I can stir all of the ingredients together and immediately pour into my ice cream maker, no chilling required (other than the ice cream maker bowl needing to be well frozen in advance- mine happens to live in my chest freezer at all times, so that’s never a problem).

*Affiliate link. I only share links to products I’ve purchased myself and love. If you use my link to make a purchase, I receive a small commission at no cost to you. Thank-you.

Here are a few favorite ice cream recipes I’ve discovered this month:

Wild Blueberries

I was so blessed to be able to go blueberry picking with a couple of friends last week and then again this week. We have a lot of wild blueberries in our area, but year to year it can be hit or miss regarding their fruitfulness. After a couple of lousy years, I wasn’t sure what to expect. So far, I’ve brought home around three gallons of blueberries with at least another good picking week to go.

I have a few recipes that are at the top of my list when fresh blueberries are in season. The first is a Blueberry Breakfast Cake recipe that I only ever make with fresh wild blueberries. Tame or frozen berries are too juicy and make the cake wet. But small, firm, fresh wild blueberries are perfect. Here is that recipe for you:

The next on my list would be Blueberry Crisp. I’m sure we all have our go-to crisp recipes, and mine is an old favorite.

Blueberry Crisp

Ingredients:

• 4 cups fresh wild blueberries

• 3/4 cup sugar

• 2 Tbs. cornstarch

• 1 cup water

• 2 Tbs. lemon juice

• 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract

Crumble Topping:

• 1 cup flour

• 1 cup rolled oats

• 1 cup brown sugar

• 2 tsp. cinnamon

• pinch of salt

• 10 Tbs. melted butter (1 stick + 2 Tbs.)

Directions:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Grease an 11”x7” (or equivalent) baking dish; spread berries in the bottom of the dish.

In a small saucepan over medium heat, combine the sugar, cornstarch, water, and lemon juice, stirring constantly and cooking until it is thick and clear; then add in the vanilla.

Pour the mixture over the blueberries and gently stir until evenly distributed.

Combine the dry ingredients for your crumble in a bowl; add in the melted butter and mix together until crumbly. Sprinkle the crumble over top the blueberry mixture.

Bake 45 minutes until blueberry mixture is bubbling and the top is golden brown.

Cool slightly before serving.

Fermented Sugar Snap Peas

I’ve tried a lot of ferments in my day, and sugar snap peas in the shell is definitely my personal favorite. I love to add in fresh garlic and dill, maybe a pinch of crushed red pepper. So good!

Ingredients:

• 2.5 Tbs coarse kosher salt per quart of water

• sugar snap peas in shell

• garlic

• dill

• crushed red pepper (optional)

Directions:

Stir the salt into warm water until dissolved; cool completely.

Remove the ends and strings from your pea pods. Add 2-3 cloves of garlic, 1/4 tsp. red pepper (optional), and 1 sprig of dill per jar. Put as many pea pods as you can into your jar, leaving 1.5 inches headspace. Pour the brine over until completely covered. Add a fermentation weight and fermentation lid. Set on the counter for 4-5 days or until the taste is strong enough for you. Once they’re finished, remove the weight and fermentation lid and affix a normal canning lid and band. Refrigerate.

Around the Farm

It’s been a very busy month around the farm. Eighty-five broiler chicks that will provide a year’s worth of meat for our family of five arrived July 7th. Each of us have our jobs when it comes to the animals, and tending the meat birds has always been mine. I’ve been so pleased with the quality of birds from Dahline Poultry. After going through the Covid years of terrible stock from a number of hatcheries, it’s so refreshing to receive birds that are healthy, robust, and most importantly- not dying. I can’t tell you how many birds we’ve lost over the years until I discovered this hatchery. And the best part is they ship to your home! No more early morning phone calls from the post office after chicks have traveled three days in the mail. Dahline uses Spee-Dee delivery; the chicks are loaded on the truck that morning and delivered to your home a few hours later. It’s amazing.

And speaking of chickens, we’ve had several laying hens sneak off and show up with baby chicks this month. There have been six different sets of chicks, totaling around 50 babies so far. There’s nothing that warms my heart like a mama hen scuttling around the yard with her fluffy youngsters in tow.

Our three feeder pigs are growing like weeds, and are so thankful for their shady home in the woods as we’ve survived some of the hottest temperatures we’ve ever experienced here. It’s been brutal.

I’d been hoping that I would have some calf stories to share with you before the month’s end, but unless something happens tonight, I’m sad to say we’re still waiting. Our boss cow Pearl is due with her fifth calf and looking like she’s ready to go at any moment. Her daughter Rain is expecting her first calf and was due last Saturday. I’d thought with the full moon last night and the early morning thunderstorm that we might see some action. So at three o’clock this morning, I headed out with the spotlight and took a peek. They were just looking at me like, “What do you want, lady? Get back in bed.”

We’re hoping for a heifer calf out of Pearl to keep as a future breeder. It will be our first registered Dexter calf, and learning the paperwork side of all that felt a bit overwhelming. But as my husband and I look to our inevitable future of what our lives look like with what will be fully grown teenagers/young adults and not needing to grow as much food as we once did, we’re wanting to keep our options open regarding the cows. Maybe that will be selling registered stock. Maybe that will be selling cuts at the farmer’s market. We’re not sure, so we want to be breeding and registering our stock and building a breeder’s portfolio just in case we want to go in that direction.

It also led to some discussion about our farm name. We chose the name Yellow Birch Hobby Farm back in 2013 when I first started my blog. Perhaps it was more of a hobby back then, but it became so much more than that. In fact, I just recently had a conversation with a non-farming friend about raising animals and gardens and all of the work involved. He said, “Well, that’s, like, your guys’ hobby, right?”

It made me pause. Calling it a hobby makes it seem like something we do for fun like crocheting or scrapbooking. But it’s not always that fun, it’s hard, and so much of our life revolves around it. It’s a lifestyle. It’s a choice. It’s how we have nourished our family for years.

The word hobby does not sit right with me. But Yellow Birch Farm was already taken, even way back when we chose our name. So as my husband and I were talking this through, and as we were filling out paperwork for the American Dexter Cattle Association with the cursor blinking on Farm Name, we were like, “What do we call ourselves then?”

The Yellow Birch portion of our name comes from the handful of yellow birch trees on our property; a tree that was mostly logged out of our area decades ago for their beautiful veneer. You hardly ever see them and we have two massive, old yellow birches on either side of our house, with younger specimens scattered elsewhere. I felt strongly about keeping that part of our name.

So we settled on Yellow Birch Dexters. Simple. Although I’ve done a CSA in the past, I don’t think we will ever do any other farm business besides cattle, so it just seemed right.

Which means our breeder prefix for all of our registered stock will be Yellow Birch (insert name).

I hope that come the next newsletter, I will be able to report that two fresh calves have safely arrived and that all are doing well.

Seasonal Checklist

I hope your July has been a beautiful one. Thank you as always for reading. See you soon,

If there’s one tool in my kitchen that has changed the way I preserve fruit, it’s the steam juicer.

As I write this, I have a batch of red and white currants gently steaming away, filling my kitchen with the gloriously tart scent of midsummer. In just a couple of hours, I will have just enough crystal clear currant juice ready to be turned into beautiful currant jelly.

If you've never used a steam juicer before, it's essentially a three-piece pot. Water simmers in the bottom section, steam rises through the fruit sitting in the top basket, and as the fruit softens, its juice collects in the center reservoir. From there, you simply drain the hot juice through a hose into jars or a saucepan.

No jelly bags, and no squeezing juice from messy pulp.

The juicer does all of the work for you.

What I Use Mine For

Currants

Currants are packed with natural pectin, making them ideal for beautiful homemade jelly. And although I don’t drink much wine anymore, the best wine I ever had was a homemade sparkling currant wine. Incredible!

Chokecherries/Cherries

Anyone who’s picked chokecherries knows how tedious they can be to process. A steam juicer makes the job remarkably simple. The juice separates cleanly from the pits, leaving you with beautiful juice for jelly, syrup, or wine. The same applies to regular cherries.

Plums

Plums are another fruit that shines in the steam juicer. Instead of wrestling with pits, the steam extracts every bit of juice while leaving the solids behind. The resulting juice makes some of the prettiest ruby-red jellies you’ll ever see.

Apples

Most people think of apples for applesauce first, but I find myself consistently reaching for my steam juicer when it comes to apple harvest time. The juice can become apple jelly, homemade cider, or serve as the base for homemade wine. Sometimes I simply can the juice to enjoy throughout the winter, even using it in my favorite BBQ pork recipe.

Rhubarb

Rather than cooking rhubarb down in a pot and straining it afterward, I simply chop it and let the steam juicer do the work. The result is a gorgeous pink juice that’s wonderful for jelly, lemonade, sparkling drinks, sauces, or simple syrup.

You can use whatever fruit you like. These are just some of the most common ones I’ve used. I know I’ve mentioned wine quite a bit (I was once very much into wine making), and one year a neighbor gifted me a bunch of grapes she’d picked from the southern part of the state. I juiced them and it produced what looked and tasted just like Welch’s grape juice. Which I then turned into a sparkling grape wine that tasted like grape pop. Talk about dangerous!

How to Use a Steam Juicer

A steam juicer can look a little intimidating the first time you take it apart. There are several pieces and a rubber hose with a clamp. But once you understand what each section does, it is one of the simplest preserving tools you can use.

Most steam juicers have three main sections: A bottom pan that holds the water, a middle section that collects the juice, and a strainer-looking basket on top that holds the fruit.

As the water boils, steam rises through the fruit basket. The heat causes the fruit to release their juice, which drips through the openings into the collection pan below. The juice can then be drained through the attached hose without ever needing to mash the fruit or pour it through a jelly bag.

Steam juicers vary somewhat by manufacturer, so always read the directions that came with yours. But this is the basic method I use.

Step 1: Wash and Sort the Fruit

Begin with ripe fruit. Wash it well and remove any leaves, insects, or moldy fruit.

One of the pleasures of using a steam juicer is that most fruits require very little preparation. Currants can generally go into the basket with their stems attached, chokecherries and plums do not need to be pitted before juicing, and apples can be washed and roughly chopped without peeling or coring them first.

Larger fruits should be cut into pieces so the steam can work through them more easily. I chop rhubarb stalks into short lengths (2-inch chunks( and cut apples into quarters.

There is no need to crush the fruit before placing it in the basket. The steam will soften it and gradually draw out the juice.

Step 2: Fill the Bottom Pan With Water

Fill the bottom section of the juicer with the amount of water recommended by the manufacturer. My goal is to begin with enough water to produce steady steam without filling it so high that it could bubble into the juice-collecting pan.

Set the water pan on the stove along with the lid and bring to a boil.

Before adding the fruit basket, check that the rubber hose is securely attached to the juice outlet. Close the clamp so the juice cannot begin draining before you are ready.

The hose may become very hot during use, so I clip the clamp to one of the steam juicer handles where it stays in place until I need to drain the juice.

Step 3: Fill the Fruit Basket

Place the prepared fruit into the perforated basket. You can fill the basket quite generously, but avoid packing or pressing the fruit down. Leaving some room at the top for the steam to circulate helps the fruit release its juice more evenly.

Some people sprinkle sugar between the layers of fruit while steaming, but I prefer to extract plain, unsweetened juice. That gives me much more freedom later. I can turn it into jelly, wine, syrup, or a drink, or combine it with another fruit without having already committed to a particular amount of sugar.

Step 4: Assemble the Juicer and Add the Lid

Set the filled fruit basket over the juice-collecting pan and place the lid firmly on top.

Make sure all three sections are sitting together properly. You want the steam to rise through the basket rather than escape through a gap between the pans.

Step 5: Let the Fruit Steam

Once the water is simmering, the steam begins softening the fruit and releasing its juice. Depending on the fruit, the size of the batch, and your particular juicer, it may take a while before enough juice collects to drain.

Soft berries will usually begin releasing juice sooner than firm apples. I allow the fruit to steam until it has collapsed, is pale in color, and the flow of juice has slowed considerably.

During this time, I can wash jars, prepare my jelly-making supplies, work on another kitchen project, or move on to something else nearby. The steam juicer does not need constant attention, but it should never be left completely unattended.

Step 6: Drain the Juice

Place a heat-safe container beneath the hose. A warmed gallon glass jar or stainless steel stock pot works nicely.

Release the clamp carefully and allow the juice to flow into the container. The juice and hose will be extremely hot, so I use caution and keep my hands away from the stream and use an oven mitt while holding the hose.

As more juice gathers in the middle pan, I drain it periodically. Do not allow the juice reservoir to become so full that juice reaches the bottom of the fruit basket.

One important thing to know is that the earliest juice may be different in strength and sweetness from the juice extracted later. Rather than treating each container as a separate batch, I usually combine all the extracted juice and stir it before measuring what I need. This gives me a more even flavor throughout the finished jelly or other recipe.

Step 7: Decide How You Will Use the Juice

Once the fruit has released its juice, you can use it right away or preserve it for another day.

For jelly, I measure the extracted juice into a saucepan and follow a tested jelly recipe appropriate for that particular fruit. Steam juicing gives me beautifully clear juice without squeezing a bag of cooked fruit, which can force pulp through and make jelly cloudy.

Depending on the fruit, I may also use the juice for:

• Syrup

• Wine

• Cordials

• Lemonade and sparkling drinks

• Sauces

• Drinking juice

• Canning for later jelly-making

The juice produced by a steam juicer is hot, but hot juice is not automatically shelf-stable. If I am not using it immediately, I refrigerate, freeze, or can it.

Step 8: Cool and Clean the Juicer

When the batch is finished, turn off the heat and allow the juicer to cool before taking it apart. There may still be hot water in the base and hot juice in the reservoir, so I never try to carry or disassemble the entire thing while it is full and steaming.

Once it is safe to handle, empty the fruit basket and wash each section thoroughly. Pay special attention to the outlet and hose, where juice residue can collect.

I rinse the hose promptly so sugary juice does not dry inside it. Then I allow all the pieces, including the hose and clamp, to dry completely before putting the juicer away.

This truly is one of those tools that will earn its keep in no time- and once you’ve used it just a couple of times, it really does become second nature. If you love fruit, you will absolutely love your steam juicer.

That is all.

Thanks for joining me today, friends. I’ve got work to do in the kitchen- I’ll be back next week!

Living in Northeastern Minnesota, surrounded by thousands of acres of federal land and the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, we are certainly accustomed to forest fires. Every summer, the familiar smell of smoke often disrupts our enjoyment of the outdoors. But it’s typically more of an annoyance than a fear.

But this year is different. It started with a stretch of extreme heat (for us- mind you, a typical summer day for us hangs out comfortably in the seventies, with nighttime temperatures in the fifties and sixties). Eighty degrees is hot. So when we get into the nineties and hundreds, we practically melt. Most everyone I know does not have air conditioning (including us). And because it’s such a rare occurrence, we simply weather the heat for the short time it’s here and then get back to business as usual.

My broiler chicks had arrived just a few days before the heat started and though I’ve raised chickens my entire life, this was my first experience with having to worry about chicks overheating. Normally, I’m running two heat lamps and trying to keep them from getting cold. This time around, I was filling their waterer with ice and putting quart containers of frozen spaghetti sauce wrapped in towels as mini air conditioners in their brooder, watching them huddle up next to it in relief.

I’d so been looking forward to the end of this stretch of misery, with temps promised to be in the sixties overnight. But just as the heat was about to come to a close, heavy smoke and ash made its arrival, forcing us to close our windows. Air quality hit levels so hazardous that pollution control crews thought that their equipment was malfunctioning.

It wasn’t.

A south wind had brought down the smoke of fires burning in the Superior National Forest, the BWCA, and in Ontario. The sky turned yellow and orange, an eerie blanket of darkness enveloping our surroundings. But because it was so hot, we took the three mile drive to the lake to cool off, despite the terrible air quality.

The sun burned red through the haze, its reflection zigzagging over the calm, cool water. I’d already developed a headache and was ready to go home almost as soon as I’d gotten there. I watched as a couple calmly made their way in a canoe, seemingly unaware of just how bad things were.

“Nice night we’re having,” I remarked sarcastically as ash fell around us.

The girl smiled. “It sure is! Not too hot, not too cold”- as she flicked a cigarette into the water. Better there than out the car window on the drive home. Better extinguished than tossed into woods so dry they seem ready to ignite from a single spark. Would she do that anyway, on her drive out? I sometimes wonder how people can be so unaware.

That night at home was awful. Our old mercury thermostat maxes out at eighty-five; it was at least that in the house. I slept on the couch, wondering how much ash was falling in the dark. The next morning, I went out to my garden and found it sprinkled with debris. It desperately needed watering, and as I did so I watched the water mix with the ash and fall from the broad leaves in gray streams. It made the garden feel not quite as nice as it did a week ago.

The last few days have been spent constantly updating ourselves on the progress of the fires, seeing the evacuation stages being announced for areas north and west of us. Having real conversations with our kids about what evacuation might look like for us. Getting important paperwork together and ready. Deciding what we would take with and what we would leave. Determining where the animals would go. Where we would go.

Of course, we pray it doesn’t come to any of that. But we certainly don’t want to be caught unaware.

But one thing these past few days have reminded me is how quickly ordinary life can change. How one day you think your biggest problem is how you’re going to get through a few days of heat, the next you’re contemplating what is most important amongst your belongings- and realizing how very little (materially) really even seems to matter.

We spend so much of life believing that tomorrow will look the way it does today. We make plans for next week, next month, next season. And most of the time, things do go according to plan. Things are as they should be.

But every now and then we're reminded that so much of life rests in hands other than our own, in situations and circumstances beyond our control.

So today we’ll keep doing the work we’ve been given, while praying for rain, for the firefighters standing between these flames and our communities, and for all those who have already had to leave home. Sometimes faith looks less like having certainty about tomorrow, and more like faithfully tending today’s responsibilities anyway.

Strawberry Rhubarb Lemonade

When it’s hot, there’s nothing more refreshing than this strawberry rhubarb lemonade. I’ve made it so many times over the years. And with a bumper crop of strawberries this season (at least eight gallons so far!), and plenty of rhubarb in the freezer, it’s the perfect way to use what we already have.

Ingredients:

5 cups chopped rhubarb

4 cups frozen strawberries

2 cups fresh lemon juice

2 cups sugar

2 cups water

6 cups cold water

Directions:

Put 5 cups chopped rhubarb into a sauce pot with 2 cups sugar and 2 cups water. Bring to a boil, turn down heat, and simmer for 15 minutes. Strain liquid through a fine mesh strainer; save solids for another use or compost.

Pour the rhubarb liquid into a high powered blender along with 4 cups frozen strawberries and 2 cups lemon juice. Blend until completely smooth. Pour mixture into a gallon glass jar and stir in 6 cups cold water. Chill completely before serving.

That’s all I have for you this week, my friend. I took a couple of weeks off of writing as the first half of July was quite busy for our family, and then this last week with the heat and the smoke, I’ve just gotten so far behind on work and tending my house the way I like to, so I need to get to it. But thank you so much for joining me for this week in season. I will see you again very soon. Until then, take care and be safe!

The end of June is my most favorite time in the garden. Everything is neat and orderly, not too big or overgrown just yet. Lush, green, full of promise. I typically do a full walk-through video this time of year in order to capture it all. It’s so fun to see how things change, evolve, and mature from one year to the next.

I spent some time this month moving some things around and, of course, adding in some new additions. Ruby Spice Summersweet, Northern Exposure Amber Heuchera (or Coral Bells), as well as more bee balm, phlox, and coneflower. The lilacs have mostly faded, but the peonies are just about ready to burst into color- what a wonderful time of year!

All of the vegetables were in before the beginning of the month, and we escaped a June frost this year- a rarity for us. That means we may see corn a week earlier this year, and when an early September frost typically visits, that week can make or break the season.

I’ve noticed a lot of pest pressure for being so early in the season. Due to cool weather for the last couple of weeks and frequent (albeit minuscule in amount) rain, the slugs have been attacking the broccoli and green beans. Nevertheless, they are pulling through.

I have lost at least a few dozen corn plants to cut worms, which I’ve been hand picking. The hope is that the plants are soon big enough to withstand their offense.

I’ve also learned some lessons, such as don’t plant onions where potatoes grew the year before, because inevitably you will leave lots of little potatoes behind which will then sprout and you will have to dig out from under and around those small onion plants. What a nightmare.

Otherwise, things are growing and moving right along. Garlic scapes are just barely starting to peek through, the potatoes had been a bit stunted due to the cold are finally starting to take off, the peas have loved the cool weather, the first strawberries have ripened, and broccoli heads are forming. Not bad for being a little over 30 days frost-free. Here’s a look at my early summer Zone 3b garden.

In the Kitchen

I’ve been chopping and freezing rhubarb, and will continue to do so as long as I can. I’m always mindful to never take more than one third of the plant at a time, focusing on taking the largest stalks first. The kids are very excited for Rhubarb Punch, a favorite around here that we enjoy all winter long. It’s an excellent way to use your frozen rhubarb. Here’s the recipe for you:

Rhubarb Punch

Ingredients:

8 cups chopped rhubarb (fresh or frozen)

8 cups water

2 1/2 cups sugar

2 Tbs strawberry gelatin powder (I like this one)

2 cups boiling water

2 cups pineapple juice

1/4 cup lemon juice

6 cups ginger ale

Directions:

Combine rhubarb and the 8 cups water in a large stock pot. Simmer for 10 minutes, drain liquid into another large pot or bowl. Discard rhubarb pulp or use for another purpose.

Dissolve the sugar and gelatin powder in boiling water; add to rhubarb liquid along with the pineapple and lemon juices. Refrigerate until cold. Stir in ginger ale prior to serving.

• Rhubarb

• Chives

• Strawberries

• Snap Peas

• Lettuce

• Aspargus

• Radishes

• Spring Onions

• Garlic Scapes (we have about a week or two before harvest, but many places are harvesting right now. This is the only time of year to get them, so if you’re not growing your own hardneck garlic, be sure to visit your local farmers market or farm stand to get your hands on some! They are an absolute must have!)

• Cilantro

• Thyme

• Oregano

• Basil

On the Farm

The late spring/early summer is always the time we focus on raising a lot of our meat for the year. This is done through raising feeder pigs, chickens, turkeys, sometimes ducks, and typically processing a cow. We always get our meat birds in May, but because we will be out of town the first week of July, we decided to hold off on them until we get back. So 85 chicks will be arriving July 7th.

We picked up three feeder pigs from my long-time friend, whose husband runs a hog farm. Sometimes we only raise two, but because none of us drew bear tags for the upcoming bear season (and because we are feeding three teenagers), we opted to get a third. Pigs are so much fun to raise- they are incredibly smart and love to root around. We put them in a wooded area this year with plenty of brush and logs and other things to explore. We were hoping the shade would keep them nice and cool this summer.

I mentioned last week in my wedding Anniversary essay that we had spent the week processing an entire cow. This is a great feeling heading into the summer with a freezer restock as these months are typically pretty lean before the garden is producing and the year’s meat is mature. Every year we analyze what we have, what we went through too quickly, what we had a surplus of. Being a family who chooses to eat meat, we’re committed to doing so in the most responsible way that we can. That means raising it ourselves, hunting, or sourcing it locally. And that means we are having to look ahead at what’s coming- or what’s not.

Deer hunting in our area has declined drastically over the past decade. What used to be a dependable source has become sadly unreliable. We also hunt black bear, which is done through a lottery system. It used to be that you could expect to get drawn every three years. Now it’s five. And with four hunters in this household, you would think that one of us would get drawn every year. Last year, my oldest son and myself both drew tags and filled them. This year, nobody drew a tag. So the decision to process a cow was settled on, and we’re grateful for it.

I still need to order turkey poults and decide if we want to do meat ducks this year or not. I feel like that decision will wait until we’re back in town, after we have the chicks settled in.

And in looking forward to next month, we are expecting calves around the end of July! Our main girl Pearl is due with her 5th calf and her daughter Rain is due with her first. Rain did not take the previous year, so we’re hoping she took this time. I’m anxiously anticipating this new life! We’re very much hoping for a heifer calf out of Pearl, who we would keep on as a future breeder for us. Stay tuned for July’s Month in Season for an update on what did- or did not- happen!

End of June Checklist

Before the calendar turns to a new month, I hope that you will find the time for these simple tasks:

• Cut back herbs before they bolt. Oregano, thyme, etc. tend to bolt as summer’s heat sweeps in. Once they flower, the plant’s energy is directed away from the leaves which can make them bitter and less flavorful. Cut back by no more than 1/3.

• Clean hummingbird feeders. Mold and fungus and even fermentation of the sugar water can lead to illness or even death.

• Thin your carrots. Don’t make the mistake of neglecting to thin your carrots before they get any bigger! If you want nice big carrots, thin them to at least one inch apart.

• Feed your roses. I typically do this on the first of the new month, but whatever date you choose, pick one that you can remember and stick with. They will thank you for it.

• Clean birdbath and fill with fresh water. Add a little solar fountain if you’d like!

• Put together a bouquet of flowers with whatever you have growing right now. This includes wildflowers, weeds, greenery, branches- whatever!

• Start and end the day outside- every day, but at least once. When you get up, before looking at your phone or making coffee, head straight outside for some morning sunlight. Even if for just a few minutes. Even better if you’re barefoot. Do the same at dusk.

Thank you for joining me for this month in season. I hope you had a beautiful start to your summer and are enjoying every moment of sunshine given to you! I’ll see you again next week. Until then, take care,

*Affiliate links. I only recommend products that I use and love. If you choose to use my link to make your own purchase, I receive a small commission. Thank you for your support!

Four days of cutting, wrapping, grinding, cleaning, labeling, organizing, hauling meat from the cooler to the kitchen and to the freezer, cleaning, trimming fat and rendering tallow, prepping bones for stock, prepping organs for the freeze dryer,- did I mention cleaning? Four long days of work that left us tired, sore, and practically falling face-down into bed each night. And, as this sort of work typically does for me, in the midst of it all I found myself returning again and again to the same thought: how grateful I am to be married to capable man.

Of course, the meat itself was certainly part of that gratitude. Because of the skills we have gained over many years of study and practice, our freezer is now stocked with nourishing food that will feed my family for many months to come. But my gratitude extends far beyond the sustenance itself.

What moved me most was the man standing beside me.

What I admire is not that my husband knows everything. He doesn’t. In fact, one of the things I respect the most about him is that he would be the very first to admit it. He didn’t grow up on a farm, wasn’t raised around livestock, didn’t even have a family pet. He did not spend his childhood learning how to butcher animals or build stuff or tackle the countless projects that seem to present themselves throughout our property. He grew up in town, far removed from the life we now live.

And yet, over the years, I have watched him become remarkably capable.

The older I get, the more convinced I become that capability is rarely something a person is simply born with. More often than not, it is forged through the sheer willingness to try. It is grown and nurtured through countless mistakes and failures and frustrations…and persistence. It is built each time something unfamiliar is encountered, and conscious resolution overtakes any sense of intimidation. It is developed when the decision is made that not knowing how to do something is not a good enough reason to walk away from it.

That is the quality I see in my husband. When something breaks, his first instinct is not to panic (that’s my job), nor to immediately find someone to else to solve the problem (again, my instinct). Instead, he begins learning. He researches. He studies and experiments, asks questions. And he tries.

There is something just so reassuring about living alongside a person like that. Not because it guarantees that every project will be successful or that every problem will be flawlessly solved- but because it creates a sense of steadiness. Challenges do not send him into a panic (remember? my domain). Difficulties do not immediately become reasons for him to give up. He approaches obstacles with the confidence that comes from having figured out hard things before.

In many ways, I think this kind of competence has become deeply undervalued. We live in a world where so much attention is given to visible and widely shared achievements- and yet some of the most important work in life happens behind closed doors and without likes, comments, shares, and emojis. It happens in garages, workshops, gardens, kitchens, barns, and basements. It happens when someone spends an evening (or a multitude of them) learning a new skill, repairing what is broken, maintaining what has been entrusted to them, or taking on the work that nobody else sees.

The capable husband is rarely lauded in those moments. There’s not an audience who cheers for him when he figures out how to get the sump pump working, or how to fix a leaking pipe, repair a busted golf cart, change the oil, fix fence, or processes a massive animal in a tiny kitchen. Much of that work goes unnoticed. Yet all of those countless acts of competence form the foundation upon which families build their lives.

As I worked alongside my husband these past few days as I have so many times before, I found myself thinking about how much security comes from that kind of capability. Not financial security, though that certainly has its place. I mean the security that comes from knowing that the person beside you is willing to engage with the world rather than retreat from it. The security of knowing that when a challenge arises, he will not simply throw up his hands and declare it impossible. He will learn what needs to be learned, do what needs to be done, and meet the situation with patience, effort, and determination.

What I especially admire is that none of this comes from a place of pride. The truly capable people I have known are rarely boastful about what they can do. If anything, they tend to be acutely aware of how much they still have left to learn. Their confidence comes not from believing they have all the answers, but from knowing that they can continue learning. There is a humility in that approach that I find deeply attractive.

I often think about how many generations before us viewed capability as an ordinary expectation of adulthood. Men and women alike understood that life would require them to learn practical skills, to adapt to changing circumstances, and become resourceful with what they had. There was dignity in knowing how to provide and repair, how to create and how to steward their resources well. Those skills were not hobbies- they were part of caring for a family and contributing to a community.

Watching my husband over the years has reminded me that this spirit is not lost. It is still very much alive in people who choose to learn rather than to depend entirely on others. It is still present in those who are wiling to tackle unfamiliar or intimidating projects, to develop new skills, and to take responsibility for the things under their care. It remains one of the most admirable qualities a person can possess.

On the day this essay goes live, our seventeenth wedding anniversary is just one day away. Seventeen years is enough time to stop being taken in by what someone says they will do and become deeply appreciative of what they actually do, year after year. When I stood on the beach of Lake Superior as a young bride, holding my soon-to-be husband’s hands, I had no way of knowing that one day I’d be standing beside him processing a cow, stacking hundreds of pounds of beef into a freezer, and marveling not at the task itself, but at the man he had become.

As I look back on the nearly two decades we've shared together, I'm struck by how much there is to appreciate now that I couldn't yet see when we were young. Not because those early qualities have disappeared, but because life has revealed so many others. There are things you simply cannot know about a person in your early twenties. Some qualities only emerge after years of responsibility, hardship, sacrifice, and ordinary life together. Over time, I've come to appreciate reliability, perseverance, resourcefulness, and quiet competence in a way I never could have when we first married. Marriage teaches you that love is built as much through ordinary Tuesdays and shared work and stress and struggles as it is through milestones and celebrations. Looking back, I realize that one of the greatest gifts of these seventeen years has been the privilege of watching my husband continually grow into a more capable man.

As we stocked the freezer and scrubbed the floors for the hundredth time, I felt grateful not simply for the food, but for everything it represented. It represented years of learning, of trying new things, of developing skills that neither of us possessed when we first married. It represented an understated, steady accumulation of knowledge and experience that happens when someone repeatedly chooses growth over comfort.

This is not a celebration of self-sufficiency, nor a claim that every man should know how to butcher a cow, build sheds, repair equipment, or master any particular skill. Capability wears many different hats and takes on many different forms.

What deserves admiration is not the specific task, but the mindset and willingness behind it. The willingness to engage with the work that life presents to you. The courage to learn. The determination to be and become useful.

And so, with our seventeenth anniversary approaching, this is simply an expression of gratitude for a good man. A man who did not begin life with these skills, but who acquired them one by one through effort and persistence. A man who continues to learn, continues to grow, and continues to approach challenges with the belief that they can be met.

The world is made better by people like that. Families are strengthened by people like that. And after seventeen years of marriage, I find myself more grateful than ever to share my life with one of them.

Happy anniversary, honey. Thank you for every skill learned, every challenge tackled, every project completed, every way you’ve helped build the life we share today, and for all of the immense love with which you do it all. It has been one of the great privileges of my life to watch the man I married become the man you are today.

It feels good to have it all done. Now, we enter “maintenance mode” as I call it- weeding, watering, re-sowing what fails to germinate, succession planting, pruning, sprucing…and waiting.

Now, my attention can turn to less pressing matters: finishing the fencing at the back of my garden once and for all. My space has been ever-changing over the last 13 years since I built my first beds. I’ve lost track of how many expansions have been done- fencing shifted, torn down, rebuilt, moved, replaced.

You see, when I started this garden, I was of a strictly utilitarian mindset. I didn’t care if things were ugly- as long as they were functional and productive. Most of my garden beds started out their life as hugelkultur beds (more on that topic to come), which meant the length and width depended entirely on the woody debris I was working with. My garden space was once woods- and as we were clearing the space for it, rather than hauling the brush away to a burn pile, we simply piled it up as the base of my future garden beds. Those brush piles were topped with loads of manure and animal bedding, followed by hand-mixed dirt comprised of topsoil, compost, shredded leaves, decomposed tree matter, vermiculite- whatever I could get my hands on at the time.

There was not really a rhyme or reason or thought put into any sort of garden design. There was nothing aesthetically pleasing about my growing space at all.

But as the years went by, I fought my “you can’t eat flowers” attitude (yes, I know there are some edible flowers, but you get my point) and planted my first perennial: a poppy in honor of my dad who loved them.

I figured I would buy one perennial flower every year- to slowly add to this space. But once you’ve been bit by that bug, that “one per year” concept goes right out the window.

Because what happened was something very unexpected: the more flowers I grew, the more maintained my walk paths became, the more love and detail I added, the more tidy my growing space- the more I just wanted to be there. For no reason at all.

Prior to this, my presence in the garden was for work to be done. It was a place of productivity. A place that I loved and enjoyed, of course- but not in the way it is today.

Today, it’s a place where I get out of bed at 4:45 AM just to catch the glow of the solar lamp posts before they shut off at first morning’s light. The place where I get to inhale the smell of lilacs permeating the humid morning air after pouring rain all night long. Where I get to check for frogs and toads in the small pond, the fountain’s gentle cadence washing all of life’s anxieties away.

It’s a place where bumblebees dance over the Lamium and hummingbirds fight over the feeder. Where I dream of the day my climbing roses are covering their trellis, twisted up with clematis.

It’s where I have my afternoon coffee and leave voice chats for my closest friends, finding respite from the sun beneath the shade of the big old maple tree under which many of our favorite chickens have been laid to rest.

It’s where I’m finding myself giving more and more growing space to the flowers, including a bed I established when my beloved Kitty had to be put down a couple of summers ago and she needed a beautiful place to rest.

Every year, I shift things to make paths a little bit straighter, beds a little more aligned (while this is easier said than done), things a little more coherent.

I’ve promised my husband that this back fence line is truly the official back fence line. No more expansion- at least in that direction (ha!). So, the other night, I found myself peeling logs for my fence posts, getting swarmed by mosquitoes and blackflies. It took me back to when I was just 13 years old, when I was building fencing for my future horse. I cut the trees with a hand saw, peeled them with a log peeler, dug my post holes, tarred the bottoms of the posts to fight rot, and set each post myself. Hours and days and weeks of work.

And here I am, thirty years later, still building fence.

Not to keep the deer out, because we just don’t have a problem with them here. But to give delineation to my space (and to deter the chickens, of course). That visual separation between garden and the ever-encroaching woods that surround this abundant space carved out of the unruly forest.

Of course, nothing is ever truly finished. Pathways have to be refreshed. Rotted posts and rails have to be replaced. Raspberry canes and crabgrass have to be fought off constantly.

But as I was pushing a wheelbarrow full of fresh wood chips just last week, I had the thought: “I don’t ever want it to be done.”

I don’t ever want there to be a spring where I don’t have a list full of tasks to complete. Because in that labor is so much joy. So much purpose to be found. So much satisfaction to experience in the work.

The tasks change from year to year. We are not building fence every growing season, nor digging ponds or building new beds.

Sometimes, the focus is on trellising. Or where to put new perennials. Or what kind of lighting to bring in or details that could add to the space. My current obsession is finishing my sitting area under the maple tree- a project that I haven’t been able to fully flesh out without that fence line in place. But now that that project is upon me, I’m bursting with ideas. And with a large pond (hopefully) being dug this summer to the south of the garden, I know that a new expansion is coming- so completing this back space before we break ground is where my focus gets to be now that the planting has been completed.

The early weeks of working on the garden come with a bit of frenetecism, primarily because we have three short months of frost-free growing conditions. That’s a tight timeline, so we pack in as much as we can into it. Like a moth to a flame, you can find me heading out there just about every free moment- because I know the time is fleeting.

And as I’ve grown older, I’ve come to understand that amidst all of the work and production- there’s room for beauty. There’s a need for beauty. In this fast-paced, distracted world, we need things that ask us to slow down; to notice and to linger.

That’s where the flowers, the pond, the lighting, the delineation come into play. All of these things create- for me- a sense of calm and escape. And ultimately, that’s really what I’ve come to understand after all these years of gardening.

It never really was about the vegetables.

Yes, the produce is amazing. Filling the pantry and freezers with food you’ve grown satisfies the soul in an ancient way. It brings me as much joy today as it always has.

But the older I get, the more I realize that the garden has been shaping me as much as I’ve been shaping it.

It has taught me patience, because nothing worth having can be rushed. It has taught me stewardship, because beauty and abundance require care. It has taught me hope, because every spring begins with little more than faith that a tiny seed will become something far greater than itself.

The fence posts, the wheelbarrows full of wood chips, the endless weeding, the pathways that need refreshing, the beds that need restructuring- these are not obstacles standing between me and the beautiful garden. They are part of the beauty itself.

Because a garden is never finished.

There will always be another perennial to plant, another project to dream about, another corner to improve, another season to prepare for. There will always be work waiting.

And for that, I am grateful.

Because as long as there is work to do, there is still something to hope for. Something to build. Something to nurture.

So tomorrow morning, alongside the rising sun, I’ll likely find myself wandering the paths once again. I’ll pause beneath the maple tree, listen to the fountain, check for frogs in the pond, and take a long, giant inhale of the lilacs before they fade for yet another year.

Then I’ll notice something else that needs doing.

And, God willing, I’ll spend the next thirty years doing it.

And then there are their sweet, almost storybook-like flowers. Delightful purple pom poms that attract all of the bees.

Both parts are edible, and are hardy in even the coldest of growing zones. They require almost no care and keep on giving for months. Maybe you have some chives growing in the corner of your garden, and every year you tell yourself you’re going to make more use of them. But maybe you don’t know where to start or what to do?

Here are some fun and easy ways to put both chives and chive blossoms to work in your kitchen.

20 Ways to Use Chives and Chive Blossoms

1. Make Chive Blossom Vinegar

One of the prettiest vinegar you can make is chive blossom vinegar. Simply fill a jar with fresh chive blossoms and cover them with white wine vinegar or apple cider vinegar. Let it steep for one to two weeks before straining.

The result is a gorgeous pink vinegar with a mild onion flavor that is perfect for homemade salad dressings. Use it in place of other vinegar in you vinaigrette.

2. Stir Chopped Chives Into Scrambled Eggs

Simple, classic, and for good reason. Fresh chives add just enough onion flavor without overpowering the eggs. If you don’t love the texture of onions in your scrambled eggs but love that bit of flavor, chives hit the spot.

3. Make Compound Butter

There are so many ways to make compound butter, and chive compound butter simply cannot be overlooked.

Mix finely chopped chives into softened butter, add a bit of salt, roll it into a log, and refrigerate. Once firm, slice into 1/2” thick slices, wrap, and freeze. A slice melted over grilled meat, vegetables, fresh bread, or baked potatoes feels luxurious for something that takes less than five minutes to make.

4. Add Them to Homemade Ranch Dressing

Fresh chives instantly elevate homemade ranch dressing.

Fresh or dried chives, combined with parsley, dill, garlic, and sour cream, creates a dressing that tastes far fresher than anything you’ll buy at the store.

5. Freeze Them for Winter

One of the easiest herbs to preserve, so there’s no excuses not to! Simply chop and freeze in airtight containers or freezer bags. Unlike many herbs, chives hold their flavor remarkably well in the freezer.

6. Make Chive Blossom Salt

This one is a favorite for sure. Blend fresh blossoms with coarse sea salt and spread the mixture on a tray to dry. Once dried, pulse it briefly in a food processor. The result is a beautiful finishing salt that looks just as lovely as it tastes.

7. Sprinkle Them Over Soups

A handful of fresh chives scattered over potato soup, chicken soup, or cream-based soups adds freshness and color. It’s the finishing touch that makes a simple meal feel just a little bit elevated.

8. Add Blossoms to Salads

The blossoms separate easily into dozens of tiny edible florets. Their mild onion flavor pairs beautifully with spring greens and makes even a simple salad feel special.

9. Make Chive Blossom Butter

Similar to compound butter, but using the blossoms instead of the leaves. The purple flecks create a beautiful presentation on homemade bread.

10. Mix Into Cream Cheese

Fresh chives folded into cream cheese create an easy spread for bagels, crackers, sandwiches, or vegetables. This is especially good with homemade sourdough bread.

11. Use Them in Potato Salad

If there was ever an herb meant for potato salad, it might be chives. Their gentle onion flavor complements potatoes without overwhelming them.

12. Add Them to Homemade Bread

Mix chopped chives into savory bread dough, biscuits, or dinner rolls. The flavor becomes more subtle after baking but adds wonderful depth.

13. Make Chive Blossom Jelly

This might sound unusual, but chive blossom jelly is surprisingly delicious. The finished jelly has a delicate savory flavor and pairs beautifully with cheese and crackers.

14. Stir Into Mashed Potatoes

This was the first thing I ever did with chives, back in my early days of gardening. A generous handful of fresh chives turns ordinary mashed potatoes into something extra special and delicious. Add butter and cream cheese, and you’re set.

15. Garnish Deviled Eggs

A small sprinkle of chopped chives or blossoms makes deviled eggs look beautiful while adding flavor. Perfect for spring gatherings and potlucks.

16. Add to Homemade Dips

Whether it’s onion dip, spinach dip, or a simple sour cream dip, fresh chives add brightness and freshness.

17. Make Herb Vinegar and Oils

Chives pair beautifully with other spring herbs. Combine them with parsley, dill, thyme, or tarragon to create custom herb blends for cooking and dressings.

18. Feed the Pollinators

Not every use has to happen in the kitchen. Chive blossoms are one of the earliest and most reliable nectar sources in my garden. Honeybees, bumblebees, butterflies, and countless beneficial insects flock to them every year. Sometimes the best use for a flower is simply letting it bloom.

19. Plant More of Them

If your clump has become crowded, spring is the perfect time to divide it. A single established plant can become several new ones in just a few minutes. They transplant easily- and you’ll have more chives for yourself and plenty to share with friends.

20. Let Them Be Beautiful

In a garden focused on food production, it’s easy to evaluate every plant based on how much it yields. And while we want to make the most of our efforts, I want to say that it’s okay if you can’t get to everything. There’s inevitably always something that seems to fall to the wayside.

Chives and chive blossoms can simply be enjoyed for their beauty, too.

And sometimes, beauty is enough for the season.

I hope that this list has given you a few new ideas to try this year. I’ve found that having some fresh inspiration helps motivate me to actually use what I grow- and to have fun while I’m at it.

See you again soon, my friend.

Earlier this month, I shared my Top 10 favorite earliest blooming perennials. Most of these have bloomed this month, despite extended cold weather and what has felt like an endless winter (it snowed last week, just in case you were wondering).

The last two weeks of May are by far the most frantic and back-breaking for me in the entire gardening season. It’s a race against the hatching of blackflies and mosquitoes; a tiny window where we don’t get eaten alive the moment we step outdoors. But of course, I got sick during this time (still questioning if it’s mono or not) and have had little energy to accomplish more than the bare minimum in the garden.

So far, I’ve planted out the onions and shallots, shelling and snap peas, carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, cabbage, lettuce, beets, radishes, and potatoes. In a week, I will start planting pole beans, cucumbers, squash, corn, and I will transplant the tomatoes into the high tunnel along with the basil.

I’ve added some perennials as well; two new David Austin climbing roses: Strawberry Hill and Jame Galway. I installed a double arched arbor at the end of my walkway into the sitting area beneath the big maple tree; these two climbing roses are planted on the left side of the arch. On the right side, I have two other David Austin roses (Gertrude Jekyll) planted along with Sweet Summer Love and Jackmanii clematis (if you didn’t know, roses and clematis are a match made in heaven).

I also added a Sonic Bloom Weigela, two Walkers Low Catmint, Hellebores, and a Fire Light Hydrangea so far. I dug up and transplanted two shoots from my white lilac into my main garden. All of these are Zone 4 friendly, and though I’m tecnically Zone 3b, I’ve done pretty well at keeping most Zone 4 perennials alive.

My main focus as we head into June is getting all of the vegetables planted and to try to keep up with weeding while everything is small. The weeds are so much easier to manage once the plants are bigger and can hold their own against them. But I tell you what- my most favorite time of the entire season is just a month away. The end of June is magical- everything is so green and beautiful; not too big yet but showy and maintained and orderly. I love it so much- can’t wait to share with you all.

I hope your garden season is off to a great start! We’re always a bit late to the show, but we do catch up. I’m here for it, late or not.

Things I’m Drawn To

I’m not typically shopping for fun home stuff this time of year because I’m hardly indoors at all, but I can’t stop thinking about this beautiful ceramic butter dish from The Fine Cheese Company. And yes, I searched their site to see if they also sold the butter mold that left the cow imprint on that butter. Unfortunately, I didn’t find it. Which I suppose is a blessing because I don’t think I could ever stop looking at that buttery artwork long enough to actually eat it.

And even though my season for house projects has passed with garden season taking over, this incredible wallpaper caught my eye and I’ve all but committed to using it in my bathroom refresh that I have planned for next winter. I’ve been wanting to go with a slightly lighter, warmer green in the bathroom and the neutral colorway of the “Fable” design pairs so nicely with the paint I’ve been considering. Its whimsical toile-esque design could keep me scouring its details forever.

What I’m Watching

I’m not at all one for watching television. But this week, the second season of Castle Impossible debuted on HGTV and as I ate up every episode of the first season, I’ve been eagerly anticipating the newest season. This show follows married couple Daphne and Ian as they set about restoring the most incredible 500-year old chateau (Château de Lésigny), located just outside of Paris. Daphne inherited the property from her late grandfather, utilizing primarily the first floor of the four-story structure to host weddings and other events in order to help pay for renovations.

The first season took us through the restoration of several different spaces within the chateau as well as a stable and hunters lodge located on the grounds. I imagine this newest season will follow the same premise (episode 1 of the new season featured the creation of a stunning library). If you love history, castles, architecture, antiques, and DIY- you will love this show as much as I do.

In the Kitchen

To be honest, once gardening season is here, I’m looking for all the ways to keep my time in the kitchen at a minimum. There’s just too much to do! It’s been my mission to figure out how to better manage meals come summertime. Every year, especially during planting season, I struggle with having to break free from the garden in order to put food on the table.

I resisted the instant pot craze for as long as I could, until I found one at our local thrift store for $20 and figured it was worth a try. Even though I do actually really enjoy cooking, I recognize that I’m only one person and if I want to be in the garden, I cannot simultaneously be in the kitchen.

So I’ve been slowly getting acquainted with my Instant Pot and trying out some new recipes. I thought I would share with you what’s been working for me so far, in case you too are looking to lighten the load in your kitchen this summer.

Once I discovered you could put a whole frozen chicken into the Instant Pot, push a button, and come back a couple hours later to supper- I was in. Of course, I would prefer a crispy skin chicken that’s been baked in the oven, but this recipe already saved my sanity once. Definitely doing it again.

Instant Pot Frozen Whole Chicken

I also made a super quick corn chowder that went perfectly with some homemade bread. I just so happened to have corn cut from the cob and shoved in a freezer bag from last fall- this was the perfect recipe to put that to use.

Instant Pot Chipotle Cheddar Corn Chowder

A couple other entrees I want to share:

Instant Pot Chicken and Vegetables

Instant Pot Pesto Zuppa Toscana

I’ve tried several side dishes as well, some favorites have included:

Instant Pot Risotto Carbonara

Perfect Instant Pot Rice

Instant Pot Rice Pilaf

If you have some favorites, PLEASE share! I’m really trying to be intentional with my planning as we head into the busiest season for us and would love to hear about your go-to recipes.

Family Life

We hosted a murder mystery party for the kids and their friends a couple of weeks back. I found this boxed set on Amazon and wasn’t sure exactly how it would all come together. But hand it off to a bunch of teenagers and they made it happen!

The setting was an Italian restaurant “La Speranza”, following the murder of Restauranteur “Pepi Roni”- a setting which my oldest insisted we make happen here- in our very small house. I must admit, I had my doubts- but after moving out a couch and moving in some folding tables with several bricks placed under the legs to raise them up a bit- it worked out beautifully.

Each of them received their character descriptions about a month in advance so that they could arrange costumes and practice accents. There are menu suggestions as well- we kept it simple with spaghetti. To set the mood, I found this amazing Italian playlist on Spotify. I had it playing for hours even before the party started.

Clues are given, lines are read, accusations are made- like real life Clue. It takes about three hours to complete and was a great time! It was decided immediately that we would be doing another one. There are many different boxed sets available- I’m thinking the 1950s barbecue would be a great one for summertime.

I’ve written quite a bit this year about my struggles with this transitional time of life as a mom who has been home with her kids for the last 16 years. Having teenagers is so much fun, truly. But I have grieved the passing of their childhood pretty hard these last few months. As they continue to grow, become more independent, and need me less, I’ve had to wrestle with my identity outside of full-time-mom.

With my oldest graduated, I know that the other two will follow in no time. They will continue to branch out, make new friends, work more, and be home even less. And while I’m eternally grateful for all of the hours and days and years we’ve had together, it will never feel like enough. I’ve been incredibly blessed- and I suppose that is what makes this time so bittersweet.

To you moms of young kids right now: please believe me and others when they tell you it goes SO fast. Childhood is but a blip on the radar- so take advantage of every moment while you can.

Thank you for stopping to join me for this month in review. I’ll see you again next week- until then, take care.

Back in January, I shared with you that I was getting my seasonal recipes together. I didn’t want to wait until harvest time to try and remember what it was I wanted to make with my produce. And here we are, on the cusp of the first offerings of the season, and I’m determined to not let anything go to waste.

While there certainly is room and a place for simply chopping rhubarb and placing it into 2-gallon freezer bags to be used in rhubarb punch in the future (a favorite around here), there are so many other fun options available in the rhubarb realm.

1. Roast It Instead of Stewing It

Most people cook rhubarb on the stovetop until it collapses into a soft sauce, but roasting it in the oven keeps the pieces more intact and jewel-like. Toss it with a little bit of sweetener and white wine and roast until just tender.

Serve it over yogurt, oatmeal, panna cotta, ice cream, pound cake, or even cottage cheese for breakfast.

2. Make Rhubarb BBQ Sauce

Rhubarb’s tartness works beautifully in barbecue sauce. Brush it over grilled chicken, ribs, or meatballs. It gives barbecue sauce a brightness that tomato alone doesn’t have.

3. Try Rhubarb Chutney

Chutney is one of those old-fashioned uses that deserves a comeback. It’s wonderful served alongside pork, roast chicken, sharp cheddar, or layered into sandwiches.

4. Make a Rhubarb Simple Syrup

One of the easiest ways to use a large amount of rhubarb. I make a rhubarb and rose petal syrup every year. The result is is bright pink and wonderfully tart.

Use it in:

• Lemonade

• Sparkling water

• Italian sodas

• Cocktails

• Iced tea

• Homemade popsicles

Or drizzle it over pancakes and waffles.

5. Make Rhubarb Curd

If you love lemon curd, rhubarb curd is worth trying at least once. Silky and tart, it’s beautiful spread onto scones or layered into cakes and tart shells. The color alone makes it feel like spring.

6. Pickle It

Quick-pickled rhubarb sounds unusual until you try it. The tartness works surprisingly well with savory foods. Serve it alongside rich meats, charcuterie boards, grain bowls, or tacos.

7. Turn It Into a Shrub

A shrub is an old-fashioned drinking vinegar made with fruit, sugar, and vinegar. Rhubarb makes an especially good one. Mixed with sparkling water, it becomes one of the most refreshing warm-weather drinks imaginable-tart, bright, and not overly sweet.

8. Make Savory Rhubarb Sauce for Meat

We often pair fruit sauces with meat: cranberry with turkey, apples with pork- and rhubarb works beautifully the same way. A savory rhubarb sauce can be served beside pork chops, duck, venison, or roast chicken.

9. Add It to Salsa

Finely chopped rhubarb paired with jalapeño, onion, cilantro, lime juice, and a bit of sweetener makes an unexpectedly delicious salsa. Especially good over grilled fish or chicken.

10. Freeze It for Winter Baking

One of the best things about rhubarb is how beautifully it freezes. As I mentioned already, you can simply chop it, spread it onto sheet pans to freeze individually, then transfer to bags or containers. No blanching required.

In the dead of winter, pulling out a bag of spring rhubarb feels like opening a little capsule of the season.

11. Make Rhubarb Butter

Rhubarb butter is like apple butter, but tangier. Cook rhubarb low and slow until thick, concentrated, and spreadable. Add vanilla bean, orange zest, ginger, or cardamom if you like. Spread it onto toast, biscuits, or sourdough bread.

12. Pair It With Unexpected Flavors

Everyone thinks of strawberry-rhubarb, but rhubarb pairs beautifully with so many other flavors:

• Orange

• Vanilla bean

• Rose

• Elderflower

• Cardamom

• Ginger

• Black pepper

• Honey

• Maple

• Basil

A simple rhubarb compote with orange zest and cardamom reads entirely different from the classic version most of us grew up with.

13. Swirl It Into Homemade Ice Cream

A tart rhubarb swirl folded into vanilla ice cream or frozen yogurt is one of the best balances of sweet and tangy. Especially good with custard-style ice cream.

You can also make a fantastic no-churn rhubarb ice cream- it was the very first ice cream I ever made and did not disappoint!

14. Use It in Breakfast Baking

Rhubarb deserves more of a place at the breakfast table.

Try it in:

• Muffins

• Coffee cake

• Scones

• Danish pastries

• Cinnamon rolls

• Baked oatmeal

Its tartness keeps baked goods from becoming overly sweet.

15. Make Rhubarb Lemonade

This deserves its own category because it’s that good. Combine rhubarb puree with fresh lemon juice and cold water for a drink that tastes like spring in a glass. Beautiful for gatherings too.

16. Make Rhubarb Vinegar

Steep chopped rhubarb in white wine vinegar or apple cider vinegar for a week, then strain. The resulting vinegar is lightly pink and wonderful in vinaigrettes and marinades.

17. Add It to Savory Grain Bowls

Roasted rhubarb adds brightness to grain bowls. Another good reminder that rhubarb doesn’t always have to live in the dessert category.

18. Make Rhubarb Cordial

A concentrated cordial stored in the refrigerator feels wonderfully old-fashioned. Mix it into sparkling water or serve it over ice when guests come over.

19. Dry It Into Fruit Leather

If you have children- or simply too much rhubarb- homemade rhubarb fruit leather is worth trying. Blend rhubarb with strawberries or apples and a bit of honey, then dehydrate until chewy.

20. Share It

This just may be the most traditional rhubarb use of all. And dare I say- your neighbor might appreciate a bag of rhubarb over the oversized zucchini left on their doorstep. Maybe print off this list of recipe ideas for them as well? Just a thought.

Now it’s your turn. What are your favorite ways to use rhubarb? Have you enjoyed your first stalks of the season yet?

See you again soon, friend.

Carrots are one of those crops that feel intrinsically tied to the idea of a productive garden. But for many gardeners, the reality looks quite different.

Tiny roots no thicker than a pencil.

Hairy little carrots twisted around each other underground.

Beautiful tops above the soil, only to reveal disappointing harvests below it.

If that’s been your experience, you are certainly not alone. Carrots can be particular in some regards. But once you understand what they truly need- and just as importantly, what they don’t- you can grow carrots that are large, sweet, straight, and worthy of that beautiful harvest basket after all.

Choosing the Right Carrot Variety

Not all carrots are created equal, and choosing the right type makes a significant difference in both success and usefulness.

I like to grow a mix, but I focus primarily on storage carrots.

Storage carrots (for fall harvest and winter keeping):

• Bolero (my go-to)

• Danvers

• Scarlet Nantes

These are dependable, larger carrots that hold well in the ground and in storage.

Fresh eating carrots (for summer harvest):

• Napoli (very early and sweet)

• Sugarsnax (excellent flavor)

These tend to be quicker to mature and are best enjoyed right out of the garden.

If you’re impatient for those first fresh eating carrots, adding an early variety like Napoli alongside your storage carrots is a good way to both allow you to grow for eating now and for eating later.

As Always, Soil Matters More Than Anything

If there’s one thing carrots demand, it’s good soil.

They need:

• Loose, well-worked, loamy soil

• Free of rocks, sticks, clumps, or other obstacles

• Deep enough to allow roots to grow straight down

Any obstruction will cause forking, twisting, or stunted growth. Before planting, take the time to really prepare your bed.

A Note on Fertility

Carrots are light feeders. Too much nitrogen leads to:

• Hairy roots

• Excessive top growth

• Misshapen carrots

Instead of fertilizing heavily, I plant carrots in a bed that held heavy feeders the year before.

Examples of heavy feeders:

• Tomatoes

• Peppers

• Cabbage and broccoli

• Squash and pumpkins

• Potatoes (probably my favorite crop to plant carrots after because potatoes require deep, loose soil- which is exactly what carrots love as well)

These crops use up a lot of the available nutrients, leaving behind a more balanced environment that carrots thrive in. Keep this in mind when mapping out your garden/planting season ahead.

Planting Carrots

Carrots are direct sown. They do not transplant well. Plant your seeds 2-4 weeks before your last frost.

• Plant as soon as your soil can be worked in spring

• Sow seeds about ¼” deep

• Keep rows evenly spaced (or broadcast in a bed if you prefer)

I plant my carrot seeds by carefully sprinkling them along the row, trying to not get too many seeds clumped together as I go. You can try pelleted seed, but I found the germination to be spotty, so I prefer to plant regular seeds and thin them later.

Carrot seeds are tiny and slow to germinate, often taking 10–21 days. Instead of covering them with soil, I will sometimes sprinkle vermiculite over the seeds. That helps me see where the row is planted and also helps hold moisture right on top of the seeds.

The Most Important Step: Consistent Moisture

Carrots must stay evenly moist during germination.

If the soil dries out:

• Germination becomes patchy

• Growth becomes uneven

Some gardeners lay a board or burlap over the row to hold in moisture until seeds sprout, then remove it as soon as seedlings appear. I’ve used plywood, large sheets of cardboard, and 2"x4” boards. Just keep an eye on the soil underneath and water as needed; remove as soon as the seeds begin sprouting.

Thinning: The Step You Cannot Skip

This is the difference between disappointing carrots and beautiful ones. When seedlings reach about 1 inch tall, thin them to at least 1 inch apart.

It can feel wasteful, but it’s essential.

If carrots are crowded:

• They compete for space

• Roots stay small and thin

• Growth becomes uneven

Give them room, and they will reward you.

If you want larger carrots, you can even thin a bit wider as they grow. When I’m choosing carrots to snack on, I will purposely pull ones that seem a little too close to another- giving that other carrot more room to get bigger.

Watering and Ongoing Care

Carrots prefer:

• Consistent moisture

• Not too wet, not too dry

Inconsistent watering can lead to:

• Cracking

• Tough texture

A steady inch of water per week is a good guideline, whether from rain or irrigation. Keep the bed weed-free, especially early on when carrots are slow to establish.

Companion Planting

Carrots benefit from a few well-chosen neighbors. Good companions include:

• Alliums like onions, leeks, shallots, chives and garlic- they help repel carrot rust flies

• Lettuce and spinach

• Legumes such as green beans and peas

• Radishes, beets, and turnips

• Herbs such as oregano, cilantro, sage, and rosemary

Harvesting Carrots

You can begin harvesting early varieties like Napoli once they reach a usable size.

For storage carrots:

• Let them mature fully

• Harvest in the fall, ideally after a few light frosts

Frost improves flavor by converting starches to sugars and for that reason, I leave my storage carrots in the ground for as long as I can before harvesting for storage. I like there to be several frosts before I pull the majority of my crop.

I prefer to pull by hand whenever possible, but you can carefully use a fork to loosen the soil and encourage them to be pulled more easily. You mustn’t damage the carrots with the fork or any other tool, however- so take your time and set aside any that do sustain injury.

Storing Carrots for Winter

Carrots store beautifully if handled well. Pull from the garden, snap off the green tops, DO NOT wash, and they are ready to store.

You can:

• Store in a root cellar packed in damp sand

• Keep in the refrigerator in perforated bags

• Leave them in the ground (in milder climates) under heavy mulch

Because I have a walk-in cooler, I store my carrots in a large tote that has holes drilled in the sides for airflow. I put a layer of damp garden soil in the bottom and then add a single layer of carrots (without letting them touch one another). Add another layer of soil along with another layer of carrots, continuing until the tote is full. My carrots stay fresh and last a full year this way. If you have a cold corner of an unheated garage, shed, or basement- definitely give this method a try!

At the end of the day, carrots really aren’t a difficult crop once you understand what they’re asking for. A well-prepared bed, lighter soil, restraint with fertilizer, and proper thinning will take you far. In fact, I truly believe thinning is the piece most people skip when they dream of big carrots but continue harvesting tiny ones.

Give them space, keep things simple, and let them grow . Before long, you’ll be pulling up thick, beautiful carrots that are actually worth washing, storing, cooking with, and proudly adding to your harvest basket each fall.

Had I not changed my tune with regards to the garden and what it could offer up for my enjoyment before anything got put into the ground at all, I would be quite miserable right now.

But I learned several years back the importance of being greeted by something bright and sweet and blooming in the instant the snow receded. It gives me hope and brings me joy when I’m unable to do any planting just yet.

So if you’re like me and need a little encouragement in your cold climate garden, I’ve got a few perennials suggestions for you to add to your plant list so that you too can stretch the most enjoyment out of your short season.

10 Tried-and-True Early Spring Perennials

Early Snow Glories or Glory of the Snow

I transplanted these many years ago from a neighbor’s woods. I spotted them very early in the spring, shocked that anything could be blooming so early. I knew I had to have them and every year, without fail, they are the very first to bloom. The moment they peek through what remains of the snow, their cheery purple heads are there to say hello.

Striped Squill

The second ones to bloom, shortly after the Early Snow Glories are the Striped Squill. I believe I got 100 tiny little bulbs in a fall bulb order one year and I planted them all under my barberry. They can essentially be used as a ground cover in those patches of ground that don’t want to grow much else- give them a try!

Crocus

The third bloomer in my garden and in most early spring gardens. You can simply plant these and never do anything to them ever again and they will always show up for you. They are so low maintenance, you almost forget they are there- until they show their pretty faces.

Grape Hyacinth/Muscari

These always bloom at the same time as the tulips and make a fabulous pairing if you do it right! Plant them with light pink or yellow or even rich deep magenta tulips. The contrast is beautiful!

Tulips

This one is a no-brainer. Of course we all love tulips. However, I struggle a little bit with these- they are so short-lived and I don’t necessarily love the foliage they leave behind, so I do keep my tulips to a minimum while still enjoying a few spots here and there throughout my flower beds for their fabulous spring showing.

Daffodils

We all know and love daffodils- and there are so many wonderful varieties! Trumpet, large and small-cupped, double/frilly, and more! And they don’t just come in yellow. My favorites are the Bridal Crown Double Narcissus and the Replete Double Narcissus- I’m a sucker for the ruffles!

Hyacinth

I fell in love with the Fondant Hyacinth that went into my first perennial flower bed. They smell incredible! Another early bloomer for the spring garden.

Forsythia

This yellow flowering shrub loves to put on an early spring show! I remember the first time I took note of a massive forsythia that was blooming at the entrance to the nursery where I used to buy all of my fruit trees. I was on the hunt for early bloomers and I immediately asked my dear friend Bob if he had any forsythia for sale. He did. I bought it and promptly planted it in front of one of the corners of my garden, right outside my bedroom window. It has exploded in size and while some like to keep theirs pruned, I don’t mind mine a little bit wild.

Creeping Phlox

I like to think of creeping phlox as living mulch- it spreads and crawls, a blanket of flowers covering everything in its path. I love how it cascades over borders and settles between rocks. Available in a variety of colors including hot pink, soft pink, lavender, light blue, white, variegated, and more.

Violas and Pansies

As a child, one of my most favorite little surprises was when I’d find some Johnny Jump Ups blooming randomly in the grass. Their bold little cute faces peeking through the lawn. Violas and pansies grow very easily from seed and will spread with little to no maintenance.

Humbly, these more subtle bloomers pave the way for the arrival of lilacs, peonies, azaleas, roses, and so much more. And there are countless other perennials you can seek out; these are just a start to your early spring perennial flower garden. I like to disperse them throughout my flower beds so that no matter where I look in those early weeks of spring, there’s something beginning to emerge. After such a long winter, even the smallest bloom feels significant. A reminder that the garden is waking back up again, little by little, even if the trees are still bare and the nights are still cold.

“You know what?” he said, “Even if we didn’t get any maple syrup at all, I would still do it.”

By it he means drill holes in trees, pound in taps, hang buckets, trudge through four feet of snow carrying five gallon buckets full of sap for weeks at a time. Take a full day boiling down that sap, tending fire, getting smoke in your face, burning through a cord of wood.

Even if at the end of all that we didn’t get any syrup at all- he would still do it.

“You know, to carry on the tradition,” he added.

I have turned those words over in my mind all day, because it speaks to something so much deeper than the syrup itself. It’s not the beautiful jars of liquid gold stocked on the shelves, nor the sweetness added to coffee or poured over pancakes.

It is the doing of the thing. The returning to it, year after year, whether it feels efficient or convenient. There is something fortifying in repetition of this kind, especially in a world that boldly urges us to move on when things feel difficult or too demanding of our time, especially when money can simply buy the thing we are laboring so hard to produce.

Maple syruping (or “sugaring” as my sweet neighbor puts it, who operated a commercial maple syrup operation back in the ‘70s on the very land from which we now procure our own maple syrup) has never been the easiest way to add a little something extra to the morning coffee. It is slow and fickle work, dependent on weather completely out of our control. Some years are abundant and generous- while other years are not- and there is no way to guarantee which kind of season you will have. There are easier options, faster ones, more predictable ones (like going to the grocery store).

And yet, every single year, we go back out to the trees. We drill the holes, hang the buckets, break new trail, and tread new paths. We start fires in the wee morning hours on boiling day, standing over a steaming pan hour after hour, watching as the sap turns from clear to deep amber brown.

We do it knowing that it might not be a “good” year.

That is what stayed with me when he spoke those words. The understanding that some things are worth continuing regardless of what they produce.

Traditions are more fragile than we can fully appreciate. These are things that depend on us to continue them- and if they are not, they quietly fade from existence. Sometimes they are forgotten slowly. One skipped year. Then another. Until knowledge becomes less certain, the process less familiar. What was once a living part of a family’s rhythm becomes something they “used to do”- and then something they only vaguely remember.

I think about how easily that could happen. Not out of carelessness or busyness or practicality. It is always reasonable, in the moment, to let something go. To say we will come back to it next year. To choose what is easier or more efficient in that moment. But over time, those choices accumulate. And without anyone making the deliberate decision to continue, even when it would be simpler not to, the thread is broken.

There is a special sort of inheritance that isn’t stashed away in a safety deposit box or written carefully into a will or formally passed down- but lived out in front of those who are watching.

It is carried in habits, in the returning to the same work year after year.

It’s in the working of a garden each spring, in new baby chicks and feeder pigs. In hunting in the fall, in canning and butchering and processing. It’s in making homemade bread, mending clothes, sitting around the table every night to eat as a family, and fixing what’s broken rather than throwing it away.

Our children absorb more than we realize in those moments. They see what we give our time to, what we are willing to do even when it requires (a lot) of effort, what we keep coming back to without being told we must.

And in that, they begin to form their own understanding of what is worth keeping.

Maple syruping, for us, has become more than just a seasonal task. It gathers us around the same work and process and rhythm that has been repeated enough times now to feel familiar and grounding.

Hearing my son speak so matter-of-factly about his intention to carry this forward felt like a glimpse of something I have so deeply hoped for but could never ensure. That these cyclical practices would not end with us- but would be picked up and continued in the hands of the next generation.

That is how these things endure. Not through obligation, not because we tell them they have to- but through recognition of their worth.

Some things are not meant to be measured by what they produce (although the produce is certainly sweet)- but by what they preserve.

Because in the end, what we choose to continue is what we ensure will not be lost.

It feels a bit silly to post anything about the garden this week, because it’s mostly been under snow. Yes, this is one of those years where winter is refusing to loosen its grip. But spring is winning…finally.

We experienced some really extreme low temperatures back in January, including wind chills of -60 F. As the gardener, all you can do is hope and pray that you mulched the roses well enough for them to survive. But you never really know until spring if they did.

I killed many roses before I learned to take that necessary step of mulching in the fall. Last year was year three for my New Dawn climbing rose, and it was the year that it finally started to take off. I knew that if I could keep it alive through this winter, that this year might be the one where it really puts on a show. So, last October, I gently laid it down on the ground and covered it heavily with straw. And yesterday, I removed that straw to discover 99% of it was alive and intact. It felt so good to put it upright and attach it to its trellis.

My two David Austin “Gertrude Jekyll” roses also survived. They were planted last year in a flower bed where I laid to rest my beloved cat “Kitty”. We’d had to put her down the summer before and I knew I wanted to bury her in my garden. I had a bed that I’d planned to plant with flowers and thought it would be the perfect spot. In truth, after we buried her, I could hardly bring myself to go into the garden at all the rest of that summer. But by last year, I’d found peace with it and began adding a few things- the roses, a couple peonies, a hydrangea, and clematis.

Another David Austin rose “Lady of Shallot” pulled through, but the shrub rose next to her that didn’t get mulched as good as it should have didn’t fare so well. And the top half of my tree rose died because I never did get around to wrapping it with burlap.

And then there’s the “Summer Cascade” Wisteria that I never even planted. Left in its pot under the big maple tree. Somehow it’s alive. Can’t quite understand that one- but it means I need to actually pick a spot for it this year.

I spent the first of many glorious spring days cleaning up after last year’s remaining mess. I pruned the big chokecherry tree that stands in the middle of my flower garden, as well as the “James McFarlane” lilac (a variety that blooms later than regular lilacs and grows FAST if you’re looking for something that doesn’t take years to put on size).

As a former vegetable-only grower, I cannot express to you the joy it brings me to have become a flower gardener as well. I resisted for years when my focus was rigidly utilitarian. Sure, I had a few things here and there, including my very first perennial- a poppy that I planted in honor of my dad (they were his favorite). But it wasn’t until the fall of 2020 that I started prepping the first real flower beds, which morphed the following spring to include a small pond and it has continued to expand from there. It really brings the entire space together and gives me the permission to garden for enjoyment, rather than just utility.

This week I also started planning out on paper where everything is to go. I try to be very mindful of crop rotation and so when deciding where to plant something, I take a look at the four previous years and what has inhabited each bed. I’ve had to learn a lot of restraint in my vegetable growing. I used to have a second large garden that we eliminated two years ago as it was too much to manage, and I found that I really wanted to be spending my time in my main garden anyway. So I focus on growing what we eat the most of: lots of potatoes, garlic, onions, shallots, green beans, carrots, peas, brassicas, cucumbers, herbs, and leafy greens. The tomatoes are all planted in a high tunnel and we also plant a very large plot of corn on the other side of our property. But as for the main garden- I stick to the staples and rotate carefully.

There are also times when I take a year off of planting something. Last year, I didn’t need to plant shelling peas as I’d put 9 gallons in the freezer the year before and still had plenty to get us through. This year, I most likely won’t be planting squash as I need the extra room to grow peas. I’m always considering what we need, what did well the year before- and what didn’t- and adjust accordingly.

And then there are extra curricular projects. I have been planning to dig a large pond in the land adjacent to my main garden. It’s a shady area with maple trees surrounding it that I want to turn into a mini park-like spot. I am thinking about how I’d like to incorporate it into my existing garden space (which is all fenced in- mainly to keep my chickens out).

My husband brought home a load of reclaimed brick as my wedding anniversary gift last year, and I’m thinking I’d like to use it as the walkway around this pond. It’s been very difficult to let that stack of goodness just sit there, waiting to be used.

So many dreams to dream and bring to life this season! I look forward to sharing it with you in the coming months.

Maple Syrup Season Comes and Goes

I shared this week about the yield of maple syrup from our first boil this year.

Every season is different, but this one was particularly strange. While March started out warm, we don’t typically put taps into the maple trees until around the third week of March- at which point it was cold. For what felt like forever. A couple weeks ago, we started getting some warmer days, but there was over three feet of snow in the woods and the trees just couldn’t seem to warm up enough for the sap to run well.

Over a week and a half, we collected 200 gallons of sap, which we boiled down over a twelve-hour period last Sunday. It was the perfect day for evaporating: 19 degrees in the morning, the wind blowing directly at our fire. Cold and dry and breezy. We use a 70-gallon stainless steel pan that we put over a homemade cinder block stove. As the sap evaporates, we continue to add more sap to the pan. It took about 8 1/2 hours before all of the sap was in, and less than 4 more hours until it was cooked down to syrup.

It’s then poured through three layers of pre-filters and a felt filter, which removes all of the impurities and sugar sand, leaving you with crystal clear, pure maple syrup. Because it’s too much of a job to can it that night, I put all five gallons of syrup into our fridge and deal with canning it the next day.

On Monday, we hauled another 55 gallons of sap out of the woods. And then Tuesday we FINALLY got a big run: 140 gallons. Then another 35 on Wednesday. So we’re already ahead of the amount of sap we just boiled on Sunday. Which means we will be boiling again this weekend.

After that, I suspect we will be done. The trees are on the verge of budding and the temps are not quite falling below freezing- needed for the sap to run.

Next year, we’re just going to go ahead and tap the first week of March- that early run would have really added to our season. And while we’ve been doing this for over a decade, I still feel like we’re ever playing a game of chicken with the weather. Always learning.

So it was a short and sweet season (emphasis on the sweet). Grateful for what we were able to get and we will do it all over again next spring!

Fighting Seasonal Blues

I was talking with a friend recently, who mentioned how much his wife was struggling this month.

“She’s just so ready for spring,” he said.

And I get it. When your winters often begin in October and stretch on through April, we all get anxious for spring to arrive.

I used to struggle terribly. I absolutely dreaded the onset of winter, knowing it would be many, many months before we were released from her snowy talons. I would get downright mad when I would wake up in the morning to fresh snow or to yet another cold day where little melting happened, staring longingly at my garden space, dreaming of green things.

But that was until I realized something.

It wasn’t necessarily the snow or the cold or the fact that winter was long. It was I was filling my time wishing for something rather than using that time on something productive.

I realized that, as a creative person, I simply needed to find somewhere other than the garden on which to focus my creativity. In the earlier winter months, that creativity is often focused on food: baking, cooking, trying new recipes. But by late winter, I’m tired of cooking. I’m ready for something new.

And so, my home became my own giant palette. Something that, year after year, I could add to, adjust, play with, alter, dress up- or dress down.

I’ve now come to look forward to the late winter/early spring months that I once dreaded. My wheels start to turn, I begin seeing things within my home in a new light.

I’m never quite sure where my creativity will lead. This year, I repainted my living room, which then led to repainting my kitchen, which then led to sanding and repainting my kitchen cabinets.

Then there was the first door project. An ugly gray exterior steel door (rust and dents included) that divides the back porch from the rest of the house. I couldn’t afford to replace it, so I set about finding a way to make it better. Paintable wallpaper, trim, wood appliques, a beautiful window cling. And paint, of course.

As I told my friend as he grieved on behalf of his wife: “Why do you think I literally paint everything in my house in March and April?”

And perhaps painting or home projects is not the answer for everyone. But I do think that if you are someone who finds yourself in a season that is holding on longer than you’d like, and you’re struggling with that moody restlessness that can so easily make itself comfortable within you- find the thing that helps you endure. The thing that fills the time so that you’re not simply wishing it away. Something on which to place your focus.

Because, as I always say, the time is going to pass anyway. You will get to that next season. But will it be with freshly painted walls? Or only memories of frustration and bitterness as you wished for that time to pass?

I choose paint. I hope you choose what you love.

See you next week,

I don’t consider myself superstitious, and I don’t believe in luck, good or bad. But there are stretches of time when life gathers its weight and delivers it all at once. When it rains, it pours- and more often than not, it does seem to come in threes.

As I write this, I’m just an hour and a half past the third event in a span of barely eighteen hours. My chest still burns, and more than once I caught myself wondering if I might need to call an ambulance, if what I was feeling was something more than stress. At this point, more than anything, I find myself hoping for a quieting- for things to settle, for my body to catch up, because my nervous system has just about reached its limit. Running through deep snow in the woods to block your loose cows from darting down the driveway and into the road will give just about anyone a heart attack.

But let’s start from the beginning.

The beginning is about 4:15 PM yesterday. Supper was just about done, I was hungry, waiting for my husband to get home, when my daughter asked me why our fridge was so cold that the milk was frozen.

Now, our fridge is a 6’x8’ walk-in cooler we built nearly seven years ago. It is run by a large air conditioning unit accompanied by a device called a Cool-Bot which overrides the minimum temperature of 60 degrees on the air conditioner so that you can set it to refrigerator temperatures. It’s been the greatest blessing and the greatest curse. A blessing in that we literally have a giant fridge, but a curse in that we literally have a giant fridge.

You’d be surprised by how much you can neglect a fridge that almost never demands you clean anything out of it because you always have more room. That means getting rid of leftovers, throwing out the 100 pounds of apples you never got to preserving, or even removing the mostly empty 5-gallon buckets that once held flour and sugar- there’s no real pressure in dealing with any of it.

But I digress.

Back to frozen fridge.

So I pull the plug on the Cool-Bot, as well as the air conditioner. Go do some research. Research says DON’T PULL PLUG ON AIR CONDITIONER. Go plug back in. Run the fan function. Ice gets worse. Husband gets home.

We begin researching together. I start serving supper. I go to head down to the basement crawlspace where we store all of our canned goods to grab a jar of pickles.

“Basement is flooded!” I screech.

Suddenly the cooler is on the back burner and we need to deal with the water in the basement before it reaches our furnace. Thankfully, just a few weeks back I decided to tackle the much-dreaded task of cleaning out the basement.

So most of what sits on the floor was stored in plastic totes. Everything else was up off of the ground except for a few cardboard boxes which now needed to be thrown. And after getting a sump pump going- then having it die- then swapping it out for another, we got the water out of there in a couple of hours. Of course, there’s much drying and all that to be done, but the immediate crisis was subdued.

The attention was returned to the cooler, where we ended up pulling the air conditioning unit that we were hoping just needed a good clean. So we packed all of the important food into coolers with ice while my husband planned to clean out the air conditioner today on his lunch break.

Which brings us to this morning when my middle son suddenly asks me if the cows were supposed to be out in the field. Which, of course, they weren’t. We don’t allow them access to the field in late winter because the snow is so deep and the field fence is only so high. Not only that, but the big access gate to the field is left open all winter so the kids can go in and out of there with their snowmobiles. That means- if the cows are out IN the field, they can also get OUT of the field.

We were out the door in just a few seconds and it’s then I see our boss cow Pearl and her daughter Rain trotting down our driveway. I directed my son to go over to the gate and open it while also keeping everyone else in as I took off at a full run (it’s important to note: I NEVER run) down the trail that runs parallel with the driveway before darting through the woods (think: deep snow) to cut them off. They immediately turned around and headed back toward their pen- but of course continued down the driveway toward the neighbor’s place. I instruct my son to grab the box of apples we’d just removed from the cooler last night. Pearl turns around at the sound of apples being shaken in a box, but can’t figure out how to get in. Finally, after some trips up down and around the driveway, she does. But Rain does not. More chasing ensues, I finally get her into the field and she ultimately figured out how to get back into the pen.

By the time it was over, my chest was on fire and I could hardly catch my breath. I had serious thoughts about the possibility that I might have a heart attack. I’ve never felt anything like it. But when I tell you that the thought of my animals- large, expensive animals- taking off into the woods and never being seen again- it’s about the worst thing you can imagine for the livestock owner. We are backed by endless state and federal land. Thick woods in which you get lost just five feet in.

This is not the first time we’ve dealt with animals on the loose. It won’t be the last. But it certainly was an unnecessary finale to a stretch of stress that I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to handle.

Most often, I push through these stressful moments and complain about them after the fact. But last night, I found myself wanting to give up.

I didn’t want to deal with the water in the basement.

I didn’t want to deal with troubleshooting videos online.

I didn’t want to pack up all of my food in coolers and go to bed with the situation unresolved.

But even so, in the midst of last night’s chaos, I found myself tending to the things that were in my control: wiping down the counters, changing out the tablecloth, cleaning out the sink strainers, scrubbing the stove top.

If I can at least control the orderliness of my home, I can better deal with those matters outside of my control.

In the aftermath of these events, I found myself researching how to better handle my reaction to them. Interestingly enough, controlling what’s in your control just so happened to be one of the suggestions.

I also looked into why things do seem to happen in threes.

Some of my research suggested that we needed to stop being superstitious. But I’m not superstitious, so I felt that didn’t really apply.

Other articles suggested that we look for patterns, and when we look for a pattern we will often find them. But to me- three events back-to-back that are each stressful on their own, let alone in succession or all at once- that is not a pattern, that is fact. (I wonder if a fourth event would make me deny its significance)?

Confirmation bias is another thought. That after the first or second bad thing- we start looking for a third. But I tell you what- I was not looking for my cows to get out at 9:00 in the morning when my husband wasn’t home. No, I don’t go looking for trouble. It finds me.

And then there’s the thought that grouping these moments into a set of three offers a kind of psychological comfort- that by gathering them up and naming them as a trio, we create the sense that something has been completed. As though the pattern itself draws a boundary line, reassuring us that the worst has already arrived, and that now, at last, it might pass.

Whatever the case may be, I’m not entirely convinced that the number matters as much as what we do in the middle of it.

Because whether it comes in threes or twos or stretches on far longer than we feel we can bear, trouble has a way of squeezing us into a moment where we have to decide how we will respond. Not in theory, not in the quiet of an perfect and uneventful day, but in the thick of it- when the basement is flooded, a big old fridge of food is at risk, and the cows are halfway down the driveway.

This is what it comes down to:

Not trying to make sense of why it comes all at once, or assigning it a number so we can feel some illusion of control- but learning, slowly and imperfectly, how to not give up when it does.

To reach for what is within our hands.

To wipe the counter. To straighten up the living room. To check the gates and improve your security measures. To take the next step, and then the next.

True resilience is built in those moments. The kind that pushes you to do the thing when everything in you wants to walk away. Something that reminds you- after the fact, when your breath has returned and the house has settled- that you are more capable than you felt in the middle of it.

If there is any comfort to be found, it’s here.

Not in believing that the third thing means it’s over.

But in knowing that when it comes- and it will- you have already lived through it before. You have already gathered yourself, already done the work, already seen it through to the other side. And you can do it again.

So if you find yourself in one of those stretches, where it feels like everything is happening at once, where your body is tired and your patience is thin, and you’re wondering how much more you can take-

Stay right where your feet are.

Do the next small, right thing in front of you.

And trust that the settling will come.

In This Article You’ll Learn:

• how to choose and prepare seed potatoes

• how to plant, hill, and care for potatoes through the season

• how to harvest and cure them for storage

• how to store potatoes so they last through the winter

• and how to grow enough to carry your household through the colder months

Choosing the Right Varieties

Not all potatoes are equally suited for long-term storage. Some are best eaten fresh, while others develop thicker skins and firmer flesh that allow them to keep for many months.

A few of the varieties that I’ve found to store especially well include:

Yukon Gold – an excellent all-purpose potato with good storage life
Kennebec – a dependable white potato that stores beautifully
Russet Burbank – a classic baking potato with long storage potential
All Blue – a striking purple potato that also stores well
French Fingerlings – small but durable for winter storage

Choosing varieties bred for storage ensures that all of your months of hard work continues to feed you in the many months to come. Of course, there is certainly room for growing short storage varieties (like most of your red potatoes), as long as you make sure to eat those up before reaching for the longer storage potatoes in your cellar.

Seed Potatoes vs. Grocery Store Potatoes

One of the most common questions gardeners ask is whether they can plant potatoes from the grocery store. Technically, potatoes will grow if planted from grocery store tubers. However, they are rarely the best choice for several reasons.

First, a lot of your grocery store potatoes are often treated with sprout inhibitors to prevent them from growing during storage. These treatments can delay or reduce sprouting in the garden. Second, grocery potatoes are not certified to be disease free. Planting infected tubers can introduce disease into the soil that may affect future crops.

Seed potatoes, on the other hand, are grown specifically for planting. They are certified to be free from many common potato diseases and are selected for strong, vigorous growth. For this reason, I always recommend purchasing certified seed potatoes from a reputable supplier or local nursery.

Preparing the Soil

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: your garden is only as good as its soil. You must always start here.

Potatoes grow best in loose, well-worked soil rich in organic matter. Compacted or heavy soil restricts the development of tubers and can lead to smaller yields or misshapen potatoes.

Before planting, I add a couple wheelbarrow loads of well-rotted manure and with a metal rake, work it into the soil deeply so that it is loose and well-combined. Potatoes form underground stems that expand into tubers, and they need room to grow.

When it’s time to plant, I dig a trench roughly one foot deep. Along the bottom of the trench I sprinkle bone meal, which provides phosphorus to support strong root development and early plant growth.

Preparing Seed Potatoes

It’s time to plant when it’s about 2-4 weeks before your last frost date. For me in the Zone 3b north, that’s usually around the beginning of May, as long as my soil temps have hit around 45-50 degrees F or so. It depends greatly on the spring, which sometimes comes early but most times comes late.

Seed potatoes often come in a variety of sizes. I like each seed potato or piece of seed potato to be around the size of a chicken egg and contain at least two to three eyes. Sometimes these eyes are actual nubs or sprouts, and other times the eyes are simply small indentations where sprouts emerge.

Cutting potatoes this way allows each piece to grow into a separate plant while maximizing the number of plants from each seed potato. Many gardeners cut their seed potatoes a day or two before planting to allow the cut surfaces to dry slightly. I usually cut them the day of planting and let them sit out in the sun for about 45 minutes to an hour while I’m prepping my beds. This helps reduce the risk of rot once they are in the soil.

Spacing and Planting Depth

Spacing has a significant influence on the final size of the potatoes. For larger potatoes, I plant them about 12 inches apart within the row. Rows should be spaced roughly 30–36 inches apart, which provides room for hilling and good air circulation between plants.

The seed pieces are placed in the bottom of the trench (cut-side down, eyes up) and then backfilled with soil. As the plants grow, additional soil is gradually mounded around the stems.

Hilling and Mulching

Hilling is an important step in growing potatoes. As the plants grow taller, soil is mounded around the base of the stems. This serves several purposes. First, it encourages the plant to produce more underground stems, which leads to more potatoes. Second, it protects developing tubers from sunlight. Potatoes exposed to sunlight turn green.

I hill my potatoes a few times throughout the season as the plants grow. Sometimes this is raking the soil up around the plants, and sometimes I’m hauling in compost to essentially bury the plants- except for the top 6” or so. In addition to hilling, I also mulch heavily around the plants with straw. Mulch helps conserve moisture, suppress weeds, and regulate soil temperature. Using both hilling and mulching together creates ideal conditions for steady potato growth.

Watering

Potatoes benefit from consistent moisture throughout the growing season. As a general guideline, potatoes should receive roughly one inch of water per week, either through rainfall or irrigation. Inconsistent watering can lead to irregular tuber growth or cracked potatoes. Even moisture allows the plant to develop evenly sized tubers beneath the soil.

Determining When Potatoes are Ready

Potatoes can be harvested at different stages depending on the type desired. Once I see flowers on my potato plants, I know that in just a week or two, I can start scrounging for “new potatoes” (small, immature potatoes with thin skins). New potatoes can be harvested while the plants are still green and actively growing.

For long-term storage, however, potatoes should be allowed to fully mature. I wait until the plants have completely died back before harvesting for storage. At this stage, the potato skins have thickened and hardened, which greatly improves their storage life.

Harvesting & Curing

Harvest potatoes carefully to avoid bruising or cutting the tubers. Using a potato fork or shovel, loosen the soil several inches away from the plant and gently lift the potatoes from the ground. After harvesting, they should not be washed. Instead, brush away excess soil and allow them to begin curing.

Curing allows the skins to toughen and small wounds to heal, which helps prevent rot during storage. Spread the potatoes in a dark, well-ventilated place with moderate warmth for about 10–14 days. During this time the skins become firmer and better suited for long-term storage.

Storing Potatoes for Winter

Once cured, potatoes store best under cool, dark conditions with moderate humidity.

Ideal storage conditions include:

• temperatures around 40–45°F
• darkness to prevent them turning green
• good airflow
• moderate humidity to prevent shriveling

A root cellar, cool basement, or unheated garage space (that doesn’t freeze) often works well.

Potatoes can be stored in:

• wooden crates

• burlap sacks

• cardboard boxes

Avoid storing potatoes in sealed plastic containers, which trap moisture and encourage rot. It is also best to keep potatoes away from onions in storage. Onions release gases that can cause potatoes to spoil more quickly.

Under good conditions, storage varieties such as Kennebec, Yukon Gold, and Russet Burbank can keep for many months.

Troubleshooting Common Potato Problems

Even with good soil and proper care, potatoes can sometimes fall short of expectations. Most issues can be traced back to soil conditions, moisture, or spacing.

Small Potatoes

If your harvest yields many small potatoes rather than large ones, the most common causes are:

• plants spaced too closely

• poor soil fertility

• inconsistent watering

• insufficient hilling

• harvesting too early

Spacing potatoes about 12 inches apart allows each plant enough room to develop larger tubers. Crowded plants compete for nutrients and tend to produce smaller potatoes.

Misshapen Potatoes

Potatoes that are irregular or knobby are often the result of:

• compacted or rocky soil

• uneven watering

• physical obstacles in the soil (rocks, etc.)

Loose, well-worked soil allows potatoes to grow evenly and expand without restriction.

Green Potatoes

Potatoes exposed to sunlight turn green and develop a compound called solanine, which can make them unsuitable for eating (especially in large amounts). This happens when tubers are too close to the surface or not adequately covered. Regular hilling and mulching prevent this by keeping developing potatoes buried and protected from light.

Green potatoes and whether you should eat them or not can be hotly debated amongst gardeners- especially those who have been eating them all of their life. While some say throw them all away, others claim they’ve always eaten them without issue. The fact is that solanine is considered poisonous, so at the very least they should not be consumed in excess.

Cracked or Split Potatoes

Sudden changes in moisture, such as a dry period followed by heavy rain, can cause potatoes to split. Maintaining consistent soil moisture throughout the growing season helps prevent this issue. Obviously, we don’t have control over the weather; but do try to adjust your watering according to the amount of rainfall you get.

Scab

Scab appears as rough patches on the skin of the potato. It is usually caused by soil conditions, particularly:

• soil that is too alkaline

• overly dry soil during tuber formation

Potatoes prefer slightly acidic soil, and maintaining even moisture during early tuber development can help reduce scab.

Rot in Storage

If potatoes begin to rot during storage, it is often due to:

• insufficient curing

• bruising during harvest

• storage conditions that are too warm or too damp

• planting a short-storage variety

Only fully cured, undamaged potatoes should be stored long-term.

How Much to Plant for a Year’s Supply

One of the most common questions gardeners ask is how many potatoes they should plant to feed a household. The answer depends on how often potatoes are eaten, but a general guideline is:

• 50–75 pounds per person per year for a household that eats potatoes regularly

To grow that amount, a rough estimate is:

• 10–15 pounds of seed potatoes per person

Under good growing conditions, one pound of seed potatoes can yield approximately 10 pounds of harvested potatoes, sometimes more (I typically see yields of 20 pounds per pound of seed planted).

For those aiming to store potatoes through winter, it is worth planting more than you think you need. Potatoes are one of the most reliable calorie crops a garden can produce, and any surplus rarely goes to waste.

Like many things in the garden, potatoes respond best to a few things done well. Healthy soil, proper spacing, and some intentional care through the season are what shape the harvest in the end. The treasure hunt at the conclusion of the season- finally getting to unearth the reward beneath the soil- is one I look forward to every year.

Happy planting, my friend.

See you soon,

Unlike the first fire of the season, where I can sit and bask in the warmth and stare endlessly at the inviting orange glow through the glass, by April I’ve made hundreds of fires and they’ve pretty much lost their charm.

In truth, we often continue making fires into the early part of June. Usually just to heat the house in the morning, allowing it to die by noon. When you live where it’s winter for two thirds of the year, that is just part of the routine. But on a morning whose light looks like spring but whose landscape does not, the making of the fire feels a bit more abrasive than it did months ago.

I’ve had to train myself over the last several years to resist feeling resentful of the season hanging on so long. Not that I post on Facebook anymore, but there was a time that I did. And my Facebook memories remind me of how often I would openly complain about winter’s refusal to take her leave.

If left unchecked, resentment and bitterness over things you cannot change will only leave you bitter and resentful- with the same amount of snow. No measure of whining and complaining will cause the weather to cooperate with your preferences.

And so, I have found myself resisting that urge to wish the season along more quickly- and instead to step more fully into it.

Intentional seasonal living is often romanticized at the height of each season. We wax poetic about the newness of spring, the abundance of summer, the glorious beauty of autumn, and the coziness of winter. But what we do not talk about as often is the endurance required when a season overstays its welcome. The discipline of staying present when everything in you is screaming to move on.

It is one thing to enjoy winter in December, when it feels fitting. It is another thing entirely to embrace it in April, when you are watching everyone else enjoying tulips and daffodils and putting their first seeds in the ground.

This is when intention matters the most.

For myself and my family, that intention has taken shape in maple syrup season. Over a decade ago, a dear friend and I put out 25 taps in a stand of maples. We had no idea what we were doing, all we knew is we wanted to be outside and if maple syrup was at the end of it, it was a worthy endeavor.

A local syrup operation offered up an old pan for us to boil our sap in. It was small and rusted- but it was enough. We built an outdoor stove with cement block, delighted in tasting the sap as it cooked down, and many hours later we filtered and canned out first batch of liquid gold.

Since that time, my brother joined in on the enterprise and there’s been some expansion and improvements, including a bigger pan and a fine-tuned process. Just last week, we put 130 taps out and there are many hands that make the work possible. In the last 10+ years that we’ve been doing this, the kids have grown into strong capable teens which means I get to do the fun part of emptying the sap from the buckets on the trees into 5-gallon buckets that get hauled away for me. The kids still love climbing into the back of the pickup as we head the 1/4 mile down the road to my dear neighbor’s property where she produced maple syrup commercially back in the 1970’s. It delights her heart to see her trees being used once again.

This act of putting in taps, checking buckets every night, the thrill of a big run where those buckets are nearly overflowing with sap- it’s become a grounding routine for us. It lets us know exactly where we are: on the brink of winter’s end and spring’s beginning. The snow that once felt like an obstacle is instead appreciated for its ability to keep our collected sap cold (yes, maple sap goes bad if not kept cold). What was formerly resented becomes part of the process.

That shift changes everything. When we are able to see the season not as something to merely get through, but as something that still has so much to give.

Maple syrup season has become, for our family, both a closing and an opening. The last hurrah of winter, one final invitation to step fully into what the season offers before it gives way. At the same time, it carries with it the first hopeful hints of spring: longer evening light, trees budding, the sense that beginnings are soon to be realized.

It gives shape to what would otherwise feel like an endless stretch; of winter that refuses to go away. And it reminds me that impatience often grows in the absence of purpose. When our days lack rhythm, when we are simply waiting for something else to begin, time slows down in all the wrong ways. But when we give ourselves something to tend to, something to participate in, then the days begin to march on steadily.

Yes, having maple syrup season as our purpose in these last days of winter acts as an anchor for us. For you, it might be something else. Perhaps your anchor is creativity: Writing a page each morning. Sketching. Photographing the same place each week and watching it change slowly over time. Turning attention into something you can hold onto.

And for others, it may be as simple as choosing one part of the home to care for well during that stretch of time. Not everything all at once, but one drawer, one cupboard, one corner. The kind of work that brings a sense of order when the world outside your door does not yet present as you’d like it to.

This is what it looks like to live seasonally in a place where the seasons are long. Not just celebrating them at their peak, but learning how to anchor yourself within them, especially at their edges- worn and frayed as they may feel.

There will always be parts of every season that seem like too much.

Too long or too cold.

Too busy.

Too hot or too dry.

Too fleeting.

The goal isn’t to eliminate that feeling entirely- but to meet it with something that allows you to plant your feet right where you are.

To find the work, the rhythm, the small practice that keeps you in the present.

For us, right now, it is sap buckets and trudging through deep snow. It’s sopping wet coveralls, and hot, hand-harvested maple syrup being poured into jars to be enjoyed in the months ahead.

Spring will come. It always does. The garden will awaken, the soil will soften, and a new season will ask me to step in and stay as long as its around.

And it’s my job to make sure that I do.